Set Me Free

by padfootjr24

ON HOLD After seven years of war, Voldemort is finally dead but Harry still has a few loose ends to tie up, one of which lies deep within the Department of Mysteries.

Ok, for the last several months I've been focusing on this for the simple fact that it wedged itself into my head and refused to leave. This is part one of a two part fic and I hope you like it.

SET ME FREE

By

Padfootjr24

It was a cloudy afternoon in early September that saw Gabrielle Delacour striding down the main street of Hogsmeade with only one destination in mind. Like everywhere else she went, her Veela qualities gained her the attention of just about everyone she passed. Whether it was the men looking at her with lust in their eyes or the women looking at her with scorn and jealousy. Even on a good day it was hard to ignore this kind of attention but on this particular day she noticed none of it, so intent was she on the confrontation she knew would be coming.

It had now been nearly a year since Voldemort's defeat but the Magical world was still in a state of rebuilding. After seven brutal years of war with the Death Eaters and their allies most of magical Europe and even parts of North America was still in ruins and economies that had been on the verge of collapse had only now begun to rebound, primarily because of the man responsible for their deliverance from terror, though no one had laid eyes on him in eight months.

Due to the injuries he sustained during his final duel with Lord Voldemort, Harry Potter had been admitted into Saint Mungos in a deep coma. He appeared to be unresponsive to all treatments but after two and a half months he seemed to come out of it on his own. The diagnostic charms that had been placed on him alerted the staff to his change in condition but by the time they reached his room he was already long gone. Since that time his chosen representatives have been using the vast Potter-Black fortune to help rebuild their world with no word from their savior. Many reporters, Ministry personnel, and friends of Harry's had tried to get this team of lawyers and Gringotts goblins to give up his location or even pass messages to him but they were very tightlipped on the matter.

That was until two weeks ago when he was spotted in Hogsmeade. Naturally his friends descended on the wizarding hamlet to see him but were all turned away at his home on the edge of town. They were either ignored or cursed if they tried to enter the house. That was what had Gabrielle making the trek through the village and down a little used path that led to Harry's residence.

After meeting her for the second time when Bill and Fleur were married after his sixth year Harry had taken her under his wing in a manner of speaking. She had just finished her second year at Beauxbatons but had no feel for defense whatsoever. She was brilliant with both charms and transfiguration that surpassed even Hermione at that age so he made it a priority to show her how to use these strengths to her greatest advantage. As a result, and with his support, she developed her own style and easily threw even some of her older schoolmates off guard using some rather unconventional methods, winning a school wide dueling tournament when she was just a forth year. What meant the most to her about winning was that Harry had come to France to see it just to give her his support.

As the years wore on she was actually surprised that he had actually started to consider her his best friend despite the four year age difference. Ron and Hermione got married when they were eighteen so the 'golden trio' began to drift apart slightly as the newly weds needed time to be together. Harry didn't really mind that much, it was the way of things. Madam Maxime didn't seemed to mind him dropping in on Beauxbatons on weekends or the occasional evening to spend a few hours talking with her, she seemed to think he needed some time to wind down with all the pressure he was under so she gave him permission to drop in any time. She even talked him into helping her defense professor a number of times while doing demonstrations. Those always seemed to be the most popular classes.

These were the primary reasons that Ron and Hermione had called, begging her to help when they couldn't get through to Harry. She had been working at the French Ministry creating new spells at the time and had immediately dropped everything and headed to England without even packing. She had been annoyed that no one had let her know that he was back before then but that irritation quickly changed to concern when they gave her all the details.

Shaking her head to clear these thoughts, Gabrielle walked up the steps and firmly knocked on Harry's door. She could hear someone moving around inside but like Hermione had told her, she was ignored. With a huff of annoyance she closed her eyes briefly and apperated just inside the door. It was only her quick reflexes and even quicker wand that saved her from being hit by a pretty nasty hex that was aimed right at her forehead.

"Nice to see you to, Harry!" She commented as he eyed the figure standing in the dimly lit sitting room.

"Gabrielle? What the hell are you doing here, don't you know it's considered impolite to apperate into someone's home without their permission?" Harry responded in annoyance.

"May I come in?" She asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh, that was good. Did you hurt yourself? How did you get through the wards anyway? Not even the Weasleys could get through!"

"You keyed me into them last year, remember?" Harry merely grunted as he flopped back down into the chair and put his wand on the table beside him. Taking this as a good sign, Gabrielle stepped into the room and after looking around for a moment before turning up the lights with a wave of her wand. Harry instinctively covered his eyes from the harsh glare while Gabrielle herself had to stifle a gasp of shock.

There were at least five empty bottles of firewhiskey and several bottles of pills littering the floor as well as a veritable mountain of parchment scattered about with who knows what scratched all over them. Harry himself was wearing a pair of sleeping pants and a tee shirt and to put it bluntly, he was filthy. It was quite obvious that he hadn't bathed or shaved for at least week and probably hadn't slept for at least that. His left arm was trembling slightly causing her to look towards the various small bottles suspiciously.

"Oh, Harry, what's happened to you?" Harry didn't bother to give an answer or even remove his arm from across his eyes. He just ignored her. Using her wand to clear away the dust and grim from the chair across from him, she sat down and picked up several of the parchments that were at her feet. Due to the horrible and jerky handwriting she couldn't make heads or tails of it.

"What are you working on here?" She asked, trying a new approach. She didn't really expect an answer but she was pleasantly surprised when that is what she got.

"I've decided to write my autobiography." This confused her to end since she always knew how much he hated being in the spotlight with everyone knowing every facet of his life. "I'd prefer that the name Harry Potter just sunk into oblivion and wasn't remembered at all. But since that is certainly not going to happen I would rather do this myself and write the truth instead of having a dozen or so others come along in the next few years and write about me as if I were some kind of flawless god on earth. If I'm remembered I want to be remembered for me and not some idiot's awe inspired version of me."

"That seems like a worthwhile project but why start it now? Most people wait until the end of their lives before they even consider such a task."

"Because, Gabrielle, my life IS over. I spent the last several months traveling around, seeing things I've always wanted to see. Doing things that I've always wanted to do and I came to a very ugly realization. As much as it sickens me to think about, when I'm gone people will think of me in the same light as they now think of Merlin, the Hogwarts founders and even Dumbledore. But what have I really done? What have I done to make the world a better place? I killed a psychopath but big deal. Those other men and women, they had their share of battles but they had other things to offer the world, knowledge, wisdom and so on. Me, I'm a fighter, plain and simple, I have been all my life in one way or another. Besides Quiditch the only thing I've ever been good at is killing people. But now the war is over and there is no more use for me."

"Harry, there is plenty left for you!" Gabrielle nearly shouted as she jumped to her feet in horror at what he was saying. "You might not want to play Quiditch because of the publicity but you still have your friends and family. People who love you and would do anything for you. And you have plenty to offer the world if you so chose. You may not be the most intelligent or wisest person around but you are a natural leader and an excellent teacher. Look what you did for me over just a couple of weeks that first summer. You have a great many things left and I will not stand for anyone belittling you, not even yourself." She finished hotly as she glared at him. After a moment Harry began to chuckle lightly but there was no humor in it.

"I never could win an argument with you."

"That's right." She responded a bit smugly.

"But you've lost this one!" Filled with anger, she was ready to lay into him again when he finally removed his arm from his face and looked at her. The look in his eyes stopped her dead and she couldn't seem to look away. The brilliant green eyes that once held so much passion and life now looked nearly dead and filled with nothing but hopelessness and sorrow. After turning to look at the floor for a few moments Harry took a deep breath and looked back into her eyes.

"I'm dying, Gabby. I have been since the moment I killed that son of a bitch. And there is nothing I can do to stop it."

"What?" She asked in a shaky voice as she sunk back into her chair. Harry sat for several minutes without uttering a word as he debated whether or not to tell her but figured he had no choice since he already gave her the final result.

"When Dumbledore died, his phoenix Fawkes vanished soon after but showed up with a small trunk at the Dursley's three days before your sister's wedding. Inside were a couple of journals as well as the Sorcerer's Stone that I was told had been destroyed at the end of my first year. After the shock of having THAT stone delivered to me, I sifted through the journals to find out why. It turned out that Dumbledore arranged for the trunk to be delivered to me in the event that he was killed before he could disclose certain information to me.

"Since my first year I knew I had a connection to Voldemort through my scar but until then I never knew the extent of it. Apparently it didn't only connect out minds but also our souls. Voldemort could have killed me at anytime because he was protected due to the use of his Horcruxes. But if I managed to kill him, then my soul and magic would begin to strain to the point that I would follow soon after.

"The Sorcerer's Stone wasn't brought to Hogwarts for protection as we had been told. Nicholas Flamel gave it to Dumbledore to try to aid me. Since I was first hit with Voldemort's killing curse, both Dumbledore and Flamel had been trying to find some way to sever the connection but were unsuccessful. Once Voldemort was dead the Elixir of Life would sustain me so while I was in Saint Mungos Dobby would sneak in and give me the potion at the appointed times to make sure I stayed alive."

"How, how much time do you have?" Gabrielle choked out as tears streamed down her cheeks.

"I have enough Elixir left to sustain me for a little over a year, maybe a year and a half, but no longer than that."

"Well you have the stone, can't you make more?" She asked desperately.

"No, I destroyed the stone several months ago. Even with the Elixir I feel the pull on my soul and it gets stronger every day. If I keep taking it, it will eventually get to the point where the pull will drive me insane. If I kept the stone I have no doubt that Hermione would figure out how to make the Elixir and she and Mrs. Weasley would no doubt continue pouring it down my throat. I have no intention of spending years on end as a raving lunatic while they try in vain to find a cure that doesn't exist. Even if they accepted that fact, they would never be able to simply let me go and let me die."

"Can you blame them? None of us would want you to die?"

"Life, just for the sake of life, is no life at all. My body would be alive but my mind and soul would be broken. Keeping me alive with the Elixir would be torture, for both you and me."

"You've known about this for seven years now and you never told anyone, why?" Gabrielle sobbed as she jumped back to her feet and began pacing across the floor. "You seemed just as happy as everyone else at Fluer's wedding."

"That's because I was, despite the events in the world at the time. What you have to understand, Gabby, is that I never expected to survive that war. During the summer after my fourth year I had an awful lot of time by myself to think and I realized that Voldemort would never stop coming for me. He would never let up until I was dead. Just about everyone was very encouraging about it, at least they tried to be, but I never once believed that I could beat him. My ego was never THAT big. He was too powerful, had fifty years of knowledge and experience over me and was more cunning and ruthless than I could ever have hoped to be. So I accepted pretty early on that my life was effectively over, learning the true nature of our bond only confirmed what I already knew."

"So you're just going to give up? What about Hestia?" She asked in desperation.

"What about her? She made her decision."

"NO SHE DIDN'T." Gabrielle shouted with renewed anger. "You made it for her, you never gave her a choice." Harry wanted to deny this but he knew that he couldn't even convince himself much less his younger friend so he didn't even try. Hestia Jones was in her seventh year when Harry first came to Hogwarts and despite their difference in age the two hit it off pretty well when he began to take an active role within the Order shortly after Dumbledore's death. They didn't become 'intimate' until shortly after his ninthienth birthday but even before then everyone took notice that the two seemed the happiest when they were with each other.

Despite the war, the two years they were together was without a doubt the best years of his life but as they closed in on Voldemort's final Horcruxes and the inevitable result of their destruction he felt that he had no option other to push her away. All 'for her own good' of course. It was certainly the hardest thing he had ever done. She tried to resist, of course, but with the constant pressure she finally had enough. Not only did she leave Harry but she also left the Order, chosing instead to fight along side the Aurors. They had not spoken or even seen each other since. Although niether ever talked about it, those that knew them could clearly see how painful it was to them on a daily basis. His actions didn't seem to make sense to anyone. They all knew that Harry was not above distancing himself from his loved ones in an attempt to 'protect' them but for the first time they were gaining ground on the Death Eaters and had Voldemort in a near panic as the different peices of his soul were being destroyed. It looked like they would actually be able to end the war, and end it soon. Harry was at his strongest and many believed that he was more than a match for the Dark Lord so to them there was no logical reason for his actions. It seemed that Gabrielle now had the answer but before she could voice her opinion on the matter a large black raven soared in through one of the high windows overlooking Hogsmead with a high pitched screach. This clearly had her concerned as only Voldemort and his top Death Eaters were known to use such birds but Harry didn't seemed concerned at all. In fact he looked down right delighted, in a creepy sort of way.

"It's about damn time." He said loudly as he jumped up to recieve the message the bird dropped to him before flying back out. As Harry read, Gabrielle grew increasingly concerned by the look in his eyes. A look she had seen only a handful of times, usually just before he entered a fight. Without saying a word he rushed to the fireplace, threw in a handful of floo powder and called out "Longbottom Manor!" She just watched as the familar face of Neville Longbottom appeared a few moments later.

"Neville, grab your gear and get over here now!" Harry ordered. Without a word Neville pulled back and broke the connection as Harry ran upstairs, presumably to get cleaned up and changed. Gabrielle just stood there looking up the stairs with a dumbfounded expression on her face. She had no idea what was going on but it was clearly important and something that had obviously been planned for sometime now. The fact that he called Neville of all people also set warning bells off in her head. Though he was pretty forgetful and clumsy during his early years at Hogwarts he had certainly blossomed towards the end of his fifth year. While niether he nor Harry were 'officially' employed by the Ministry, they worked closely with the Unspeakables as part of a 'Hunter Team'. They were more commonly known as Kill Squads. Unlike the Aurors or even the rest of the Unspeakables, the Hunter Teams did not bring back prisoners. Their sole objective was to eliminate any enemy they encountered, if they tried to surrender or were incapacited, it didn't matter. None surrvived. There were five teams of six and each of these men and women were autherized to use any means they deemed necessary. They were, quite literally, judge, jury and executioner. Harry and Neville were recruited into this unit, not necessrily because of their skill or knowledge at the time, but rather because they both had a deep seeded hatred for all Death Eaters because of their experiences. Primarily for what happened to their parents and in Harry's case, Sirius as well, and they had both proven that they were willing to do anything to achieve their goals.

Gabrielle was pulled from her thoughts a few minutes later when green fire roared to life in the fireplace and Neville walked out. He was clad in Roman style leather armor that was pulled tightly around his torso with thick stripes around his waist that hung down to his knees. It was made of a dragonhide that was so deeply black that it almost seemed to smother all light around him. He wore what appeared to be normal black denim jeans with large silver shinguards strapped to his lower legs. Each had a deep red rune etched into the center that she had never seen before. The same rune was carved into the fastenings of his cloak. While his features were the same as the last time she had seen him, his face was void of all emotion except for his eyes that held the same primal light that Harry's had while he was reading his message.

Without saying a word Neville merely nodded to her before hefting a large duffle bag onto the counter where he rummaged through it. The fact that he was obviously keeping her from seeing what it contained, not to mention the way he was dressed, she was pretty sure that she didn't want to know what was in the bag. She had gotten to know Neville pretty well over the last few years but she had never been intimidated by him before now. It was not an experience that she relished. She breathed an audiable sigh of relief when Harry desended the stairs but that quickly passed when she looked up to see him in similar garb with the same closed expression on his now clean shaven face.

"Harry, what's going on?" She asked quietly, half afraid of the answer.

"Tying up a few loose ends is all." He answered cryptically after debating whether or not he should just keep his mouth shut.

"Who do we have?" Neville asked simply.

"Most of them." With a small grin Harry layed a peice of parchment on the counter that appeared to be a list of some kind. "Snape has already taken care of Alecto and Amycus Carrow and will deal with these four here." He continued while circling a number of names. "I'll take Shacklebolt, Wood, Travers, Petigrew and Greyback, as well as what's left of his pack. You, my friend, have got the Lestrange brothers, Dolohov, Jugson and Narcissa Malfoy." Neville smirked slightly as he took the sheet of parchment that Harry held out for him.

"I'll see you in a few days." He said with a slight chuckle before apperating away. Harry was preparing to do the same before Gabrielle spoke up once again.

"Are you actually working with Snape of all people. Good god, Harry, he murdered Dumbledore." She finished loudly as she was looking at him as if he were insane.

"No, he killed Dumbledore, he didn't murder him." He corrected her.

"WHAT?" She shouted in anger at his ridiculous explaination. "What's the difference?"

"The difference is quite obvious when you take the time to think it through properly. The potion that Dumbledore drank in that cave was slowly and painfully killing him. If it had been allowed to run its course he would have died and his body would then be under Voldemort's control, he would have been just another Inferi. That's the same fate that Sirius' brother, Regulus, met shortly after he stole the Horcrux and replaced it with that worthless locket. Dumbledore knew that he didn't have much longer to live. While we were in the Astronomy Tower, just before Snape cast the Killing Curse, there were several seconds where he and Snape did nothing but stare into each other's eyes. They were both masters of Legillamancy and could easily communicate in that manner. Snape is not a stupid man. If he were a loyal Death Eater he would have killed Albus immediately instead of giving him even a few moments to come up with some form of escape. After thinking about it for quite some time I came to the conclusion that he told Snape to kill him. As a result, no Death Eater, not even Voldemort himself would question his loyalty again. It put him in a perfect position to gather any information he could about the Dark Lord's plans."

"How, in the name of Merlin, did you come up with that hypothisis by seeing the man hesitate for a few seconds?"

"It wasn't just that. As you know, as the Death Eaters were making their escape I caught up with Snape and threw every curse I could think of at him but every one was blocked quite easily. The man could have killed me any time he wanted, or capture me. Such an act would have surely made him Voldemort's most favored Death Eater. He didn't throw a single curse and all he said was, 'close you mouth and close your mind.' He was basically telling me to learn Occlumency and learn to cast my spells without the incantations, which I hadn't had much luck doing at that point. He even called off another Death Eater that had hit me with a Cruciatus Curse. The only time he retaliated at all was when I called him a coward and tried to hit him with a curse that he himself had created. He seemed to take that a bit personally. After thinking it over for several days after Dumbledore's funeral I came to the conclusion that Snape's actions were not what they appeared, this was proven when I began receiving messages, warning of future attacks, long term goals and even the locations of a few of the Horcruxes. When I tried to tell others of where I got the information all I could say was that I had had another one of my 'visions'. I figured it was Snape sending me the information and I thought he was being a bit paranoid with the charms he put on them but concidering what Kingsley did I guess it was justified. Any more questions?" Gabrielle just shook her head silently.

"Then I will bid you good day." He said bowing slightly before hefting his own bag onto his shoulder and vanishing. Gabrielle's sharp eyes picked up on his swift movements as he grabbed a small bottle before leaving. Looking around the filthy home for a moment she began examining the various bottles but found them all empty and without lables. There was something seriously wrong with Harry and she was sure that it wasn't just the concequences of Voldemort's death, that much she was sure of. She sighed in frustration until she found a lone pill pushed up against the wall were it would have gone unnoticed had she not been looking. It didn't look the least bit familiar to her but she quickly apperated the Saint Mungo's where Hermione was working as a researcher.

XXX

Harry's first stop was in the extreme northwest of Canada where Kingsley Shacklebolt had apparently settled. It took him several hours to create a hole through the wards that surrounded a good bit of wilderness without being detected and a nearly a full twenty four hours to track the man down. He was staying in a small one room cabin but it appeared that he was rarely there, instead spending his time wandering the forests and trapping animals for food and furs to keep warm. Whether he did this because he enjoyed being in the wilderness or because he was afraid to stay in one place was unknown to Harry but he didn't really care at that point. Alot of people had been killed because of the information he sent to Voldemort and he was going to die for it.

He was crouched down amongst the trees as he watched the large man wade through the knee deep snow clad in thick furs with a large rifle resting on his shoulder. As he watched, he absently pulled out a small bottle and popped three pills into his mouth before shaking his head slightly and focusing his attention back on his target. When he was about twenty yards away he stopped suddenly and scanned the land in front of him before he slowly lowered his gun. Harry stood up striaght just as the former Auror began to swing around in his direction.

"I wouldn't!" Harry warned him in a voice far colder than even this frigid climate. He spoke softly but his voice carried on the wind with an unnatural ease. Kingsley jerked to a stop as he recognized the voice and even his dark face paled considerably. He looked up into Harry's hard eyes but wisely kept his weapon pointed at the ground.

"I HAD NO CHOICE!" He called out over the roaring wind. In response, Harry merely tilted his head slightly. "THEY HAD MY DAUGHTER!"

"SARA WAS ALREADY DEAD!" Harry shouted back with no emotion.

"BUT I DIDN'T KNOW THAT!" The younger man quickly apperated to within ten feet of the man and blasted the rifle out of his hands with a wandless banishing charm.

"That, is the only reason you are not dead already." While the man had gone to considerable lengths to keep himself hidden, Harry wasn't the least bit surprised to see that he was a little relieved to have been found. Kingsley was not the type of man to hide from anything, but a lifetime in Azkaban or the Dementor's Kiss would test any man's courage which is probably why he was relieved that Harry was the one to find him. He knew the young man wasn't here to make an arrest. But he wasn't going to face his death without a fight either.

"You are no match for me Kingsley, and you know it, so drop the wand." Shacklebolt closed his eyes tightly as he let the wand that he was slowly working out of his sleeve fall from his grasp to sink into the snow. "If I was merely looking to make a kill you would have been dead before you realized I was here but I'm sure you can understand that I can't leave you alive. So, I have two choices for you. Option one, we can do it my way and I can leave your body here to be torn apart by any of the local wildlife looking for something to eat."

"And option two?" He asked, almost afraid of the answer.

"You can walk out of this forest as a dead man." As an answer to the unspoken confusion Harry removed a small blue vial from his pocket and held it up. "Concentrated Aconite, laced with powdered moonflower. The moonflower will numb any pain you would feel otherwise as well as render all antidotes useless. I figure you would have about... thirty six hours, forty at the most. That should be enough time to make any arrangements you deem necessary, maybe even see your wife and explain your actions." Harry explained in a tone that clearly said that he didn't care which choice he made, he was dead either way.

In the end the choice wasn't hard to make. The former Auror knew that he couldn't possibly hope to defeat Harry and the allure of a painless death while having the chance to see his wife once more was over whelming. Had it been any other man, Kingsley would have been extremely cautious and suspicious about such an offer, he was after all a highly trained Auror. But Harry had no reason to use underhanded tactics with him so he took it at face value. After a few moments of thought he decided on the second option and warily took the bottle from Harry's offered hand. Not wanting to prolong his anxioty any longer than necessary, he removed the cork and threw his head back immediately.

Almost immediately his eyes went wide as he was hit with wave upon wave of nearly unbearable pain as his limbs became numb and his body fell limply to the snow covered ground. It took all his willpower and all his knowledge of Occlumency to continue thinking in a somewhat rational manner but even so it was only the fact that he seemed physically incapable of screaming out that prevented him from doing so. He had never felt pain on this level before, and that is taking Voldemort's Cruciatus curses into account as well. It was a feeling that couldn't be comprehended much less described with mere words. It was literally worse than having your entire body consumed by fire only made more potent with the knowledge that there would be no escape. After what seemed like an eternity, the pain vanished completely though he was still unable to move or speak. The first thing he was able to focus on was Harry Potter slowly rising back to his feet after kneeling beside him. This time, he was not able to hide his fear as he looked upon the young man.

Harry emotionlessly looked down on the man as he became the unknowing test subject for a new potion. His eyes were the only thing capable of showing any response and so far Harry liked what he saw. All he saw was terror and unimaginable pain. After a few short minutes he retrieved another, smaller, bottle from his pocket before dipping his smallest finger inside and dabbing the thick green gel on both sides of the man's head.

"It's lovely, isn't it?" Harry stated as he climbed back to his feet. "I created this potion for this exact occasion. It took me two years to perfect but I think it was well worth the wait. Normally I'm only about average when it comes to potions but I was quite motivated on this little project. Besides the obvious pain, it also paralizes the subject while leaving all senses perfectly functional. While it WILL eventually wear you down and kill you, it will no doubt take quite a while and doesn't have the same side effects as the Cruciatus curse, such as nerve and neural damage. No, you will remain one hundred percent focused until its run its course so you don't have to worry about going insane. So you have probably two days to appreciate everything it will do to you. This, is giving you a temporay respite. And I assure you, it will be temporary." He said as he held up the bottle of green gel. "I've also cast a few monitoring charms on you. I have a few colleagues that are very interested in this potions capabilities so I'm sure they will appreciate the information, from an educational perspective, of course. I promise, by the time you die, your suffering will be legendary, even in Hell." He smirked as he knelt down once again to look the terrified man directly in the eye.

"It's not a pleasant feeling, is it? To be decieved by one you thought you could trust to keep their word? Did you honestly think that I would allow you a painless death? You may not have killed anyone yourself on Voldemort's orders, or tortured them, but you arranged for it to happen to many others. Many of them were friends of mine, as you well know." He hissed scathingly before taking a deep breath to calm himself.

"You should know that your wife is dead." Harry grinned as the man's eyes went wide. "She killed herself last month. She left a rather lengthy letter behind, praising her daughter for a full three pages before vilifing you for nearly seven. You see, it wouldn't have mattered if I had kept my word, even if she were alive, nothing you could have said would have been good enough. She didn't care what your reasons were, she despised you for your actions. It is likely that she would have killed you the moment she saw you. She may have been a Slytherin while in school but she had more loyalty than any Hufflepuff and more courage than most Gryffindors. Now, while you are lying there with only the pain to keep you company, I want you to think about something. Sara was eleven years old when she was killed, about to start Hogwarts herself. She was young, yes, but she knew very well what was going on and had some very strong feelings about it. She was a great deal more like her mother than she was like you, so tell me, if she were alive today, what would she think of you? Would she think of you as a father that was trying to protect his child or as a traitor that got countless good people killed?" With that Harry took a rag and wiped the gel, that had been blocking the pain, off of Kingsley's head. As an afterthought he ripped the gold hoop earring out of the man's ear before standing up once more and leaving the traitor alone with his pain.

XXX

Ron Weasley walked beside his mother as they quietly made their way through the hallways of Saint Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. It was the same route he, and every other member of his family had taken almost every day for the last two and a half years. Molly Weasley seemed to see nothing at all as her son guided her to the Janus Thickey Ward for Long Term Spell Damage. While their entire family had made it through the war alive, they did not make it through unscathed. Ginny Weasley had been caught in an ambush when her Auror team's position was given to the Death Eaters by Kingsley Shacklebolt. While the Aurors faught hard, they were swarmed under by superior numbers and slaughtered. Ginny was the only one to survive but it would have been merciful if she had died with her teamates. She was brutally beaten and repeatedly violated before they resorted to the Cruciatus Curse. She was found nude, hanging by her ankles right inside the entrance to Diagon Alley. Thankfully, the damage was not nearly as bad as others, such as Frank and Alice Longbottom, but her recovery has been extremely slow and will have to remain in the hospital for at least another year.

Both Ron and Molly froze as they entered Ginny's room when they saw an average sized man lean over her and place a soft kiss on her forehead. He was dressed all in black with a cloak pulled tightly around him and his long black hair obscured his face as he was bent over. Ron had no idea who this person was but he pulled his wand ready to defend his sister when the man streightened back up and looked directly at him. Ron and Molly gasped as they recognized the man that they had not seen awake in nearly a year. Before either could say anything, Harry activated a portkey and vanished. Ron instantly rushed to Ginny's side to see if she was alright. He didn't really think Harry would do anything to hurt her but with as long as he had been gone and the welcome anyone that approached his house recieved, he just wanted to be sure.

Ginny pretty much looked the same as she did for the vast majority of any day. Her skin was unnaturally pale and her eyes were dull and unfocused as her mind was unresponsive to her surroundings. Ron nearly gasped when he noticed the large gold hoop earring that now decorated her left ear, clearly recognizing it for what it was but what caught his attention and lit a fire to his excitement the most was the small soft smile that graced her lips. For the brief moments where she became semi lucid, she could show any number of emotions, but they never last for long and when her mind slipped once again her face always relaxed back into that same expressionless mask. He only hoped that maybe this was a sign that her healing was moving along just a little bit faster than it had been the day before.

XXX

"What is Amphomin Sulat?" Gabrielle asked in confusion, causing Hermione to groan and stomp her foot in annoyance at the ignorance of the magical world.

"It's Amphetamine Sulfate, Gabrielle. It's a drug used mostly in the muggle world that stimulates the nervous system. Most people get them from doctors for one reason or another but the concentration in this pill is way to high for any legal use. Where did you get this?"

"From Harry's house." The young Veela answered after a moment of hesitation. Hermione jaw dropped as she stared at the younger girl stupidly.

"When did you see Harry?"

"Earlier this afternoon."

"Come on. We're going to see him right now. What is he trying to do, kill himself?" Gabrielle choked back a sob that was trying to escape at Hermione's words. She really wanted to tell her what she had learned from Harry but she felt this was something that Harry would have to break to his friends himself.

"He's not there anymore." She spoke up quietly, stopping Hermione in her tracks as she was storming for the door.

"Where did he go?"

"HERMIONE!" Ron yelled as he ran into her lab, cutting off whatever answer Gabrielle was going to give.

"WHAT IS IT RON! Can't you see that I'm in the middle of something here. You don't just go bursting into a lab like that, screaming like a banshee!"

"Harry was here!" That shut Hermione up real quick. "He was here to see Ginny but left as soon as Mum and I got there." Ron explained with a very large grin.

"Ok, while its good that you saw him, what about it has you so excited?" Gabrielle asked with uncertainty. She wasn't sure she really wanted to know.

"Well after he left, everything was exactly the same as it usually was with the exception of the earring Ginny was wearing."

"Earring, Ron you're not making any sense."

"Shacklebolt!" Gabrielle exclaimed and both Ron and Hermione looked at her oddly, niether knowing how the hell she came up with that conclusion when she didn't even know what the peice of jewlery looked like.

"Yep, it was certainly Kingsley's alright."

"So Harry caught him?"

"I don't think so, Hermione." After sealing the room and casting numerous anti-listening charms, Gabrielle gave them a quick explaination of Neville's arrival during her visit with Harry and the letter that had arrived from Snape. Naturally they were both absolutely shocked to hear what Harry had said about Snape. "There were a lot of names on that list and by the way he was talking I get the feeling that trials and prison cells will not be needed."

"Good. Its no more than they deserve."

"RON! How can you say that, they're still human beings."

"'Mione, this is the same kind of work Harry was doing during the war, why are you now suddenly so concerned for Death Eaters?"

"Well its different now, the war is over. They should be captured and put on trial."

"While you may disagree with their tactics, from a morality standpoint, when not in a time of war, legally speaking they have every right to act as they feel is best. The war is over, true, but there are still Death Eaters out there and until every one of them are accounted for, the Unspeakables will have free reign when dealing with them. Harry was trained for this very purpose, to hunt down the opposition and eliminate it."

"Well we may have a bigger problem than just that." Gabrielle began explaining to Ron everything she had told Hermione and the conclusions they had reached. The older girl tried to cut in on several occasions to go into greater depth but she can't getting 'shushed'. Much to her annoyance. While Ron may not no anything about muggle drugs he was aware of people getting addicted to various potions and had seen the results himself so it didn't take much to convince him that they seriously needed to help their friend. And knowing Harry, he would make it incrediably difficult for them.

"We're going to need help and I know exactly who to get." Ron and Hermione looked at the french girl and wondered who she was talking about.

XXX

Harry looked both ways down the long corridor before rapping soundly on the appartment door in front of him. He had been in New York City for only an hour so far and he couldn't wait to leave. He had spent two weeks in the city when he traveled the world after he vanished from Saint Mungo's and he had hated every minute of it. He just couldn't stand the noise. It was so loud at times that you literally couldn't hear yourself think much less keep your concentration focused enough to enjoy yourself. L.A and Houston, while almost as large, still didn't have the same cluttered and oppressing atmosphere. The sound of the numerous locks on the door being shifted locked his attention solely on the door in front of him.

"Can I help you?" A dark haired woman of about fifty years old asked as she cracked the door open with the chain lock still in place. Harry suppressed the urge to raise an eyebrow in surprise at seeing a woman of any age at this particular apartment.

"Yes Ma'am, I'm looking for a Mr. James Black."

"He's in the shower at the moment, perhapes you could come back later." The muffled sound of running water was all Harry needed for confirmation.

"No Ma'am, that won't be necessary." Without warning, Harry lifted his leg and kicked the door in, snapping the chain that the woman thought would offer her some protection from any predators. The wandless silencing charms he had been casting since she first answered the door came in real handy when she began screaming very loudly as she jumped back in fright. Harry paid her no attention as he calmly closed the door behind him.

"Scream all you want, no one can hear you. I'm not here for you so just sit down." When she turned to run in the obvious direction of the bathroom she was quickly pulled back and frozen from her neck down as she was held in place on the couch where she just stared at him in terror. After checking the other rooms to make sure no one else was present he made is way back into the living room and sat down facing the unknown woman while still having a perfect view of the bathroom door.

"You...You're a, a wizard." She stuttered out. Harry noticed that though she was scared, the subject wasn't exactly new to her.

"Indeed. Now, who are you that Mr. Black would trust with the information of our kind?"

"I'm his wife, Amy."

"His wife?" Harry asked in a disbelieving tone. "I must be in the wrong apartment. Nope, there's a picture of James. Never was very photogenic, was he? Tell me, what kind of woman actually marries such a peice of shit?"

"James is a very caring man." Amy snapped angrily

"Is that so? What exactly did James tell you about the magical world? More specificly, why he left England? You might as well tell me, I could easily go into your mind and get the information myself but that could prove painful to you." He added when she turned her head away from him and remained silent. He would never actually force himself into an innocent woman's mind but she didn't have to know that. Her surface thoughts, however, left him with no doubt that she didn't know much and certainly didn't know the truth.

"He just told me that there was a war, with some kind of terrorist that was murdering whole families and that after a time he moved away to get away from the killing."

"Hmm, interesting! Well that was almost correct. There was a war and there was a terrorist, he called himself Voldemort, but James didn't leave England until after the war was 'officially' over."

"What do you mean 'officially'?" Harry was beginning to like this woman. She wasn't afraid to ask questions even to a man that could be there to kill her for all she knew.

"I mean exactly that. The war was techniqually over when Voldemort was killed, I killed the bastard myself. Unfortunately there are still a number of his followers out there and we are still in the process of hunting them down."

"Then why are you here?"

"Haven't you figured it out? As I said, your husband left England after I killed the Dark Lord but he didn't leave to escape the killing, he left to escape a very painful death or a very long prison sentence."

"NO, thats not possible. James would never hurt a soul, he's too kind hearted." Amy nearly shouted in denial.

"No, he's a coward. You see this scar here?" He asked as he raised his left sleeve to reveal the jagged scar along the inside of his elbow and forearm. "Your husband gave me this himself, when I was a forteen year old schoolboy. I was tied to a grave stone at the time and he used my blood to resurrect his master who had been living as a mere spirit for the thirteen years prior. I barely escaped with my life, a classmate of mine, Cedric Diggory, was not as fortunate. Killed by your husband's own hand. Years before that incident he was actually one of my parents best friends, until the day he betrayed them and led his master to our location. I was only one year old at the time but even today I sometimes wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat with his cold evil laugh echoing inside my head as he murdered my parents. I only survived by a freak accident that destroyed Voldemort's body. The next day he framed another friend of his for my parents murder, faked his death and disappeared while killing another twelve people. If you still don't believe me, wait about twenty seconds, he is about to walk out the bathroom door, see if the look on his face can convince you differently." Just a few seconds later the door opened and Peter Pettegrew walked out in a bathrobe as he dried his hair with a towel. Harry noticed that the man had actually managed some fairly decent illusion charms to make his silver hand look natural. Harry was quick to make sure the man couldn't apperate, use a portkey or transform into his animagus form. As a testiment to his lackluster magical ability, Peter didn't seem to notice the magic wash over him.

"Amy, where do you think we should...WHO ARE YOU?" Harry chuckled slightly at the squeaky sound of his voice. With a casual wave of his hand he dispelled the illusions that were in place, hiding his true appearance and attire and smiled coldly when all color suddenly drained from Peter's face when he realized exactly who was sitting there with his wife.

"Hello Peter, its been some time, hasn't it?"

"Ha, Harry, you, you have to und, understand. I was bewitched. I had no choice." Wormtail tried to explain as his entire body began shaking if fear.

"Yes, you were bewitched. Bewitched by cowardice and a complete lack of honor and integrity. I find it interesting that for your new identity, you chose to use the names of three different men you have betrayed. James Harrison Black. I'm sure my father and Sirius are spinning in their graves as we speak, and the variation of my own name I find particularly offensive. Any intellegent individule could tell you that if you truly wish to disappear it is incrediably stupid to use a name that can be traced back to your former life. You don't use names of family, friends or other associates and you certainly don't let it be known where you are truly from. Yes, in the end you were by far the easiest to track down but I wanted to save you for last."

"Please, Harry, please don't kill me." Peter sobbed loudly as he fell to his knees and began crawling towards Harry as he begged, much like he did at the end of his third year of Hogwarts. This time however, Harry didn't have an ounce of mercy for the pathetic little wretch. Once he was close enough, Harry quickly stood up and kicked the man directly in the face, easily braking the man's nose.

"I showed you mercy once before, Peter, and as a repayment you tried to have me killed on any number of occasions. This time, there will be nothing standing in the way of your death." Amy, who had been looking on in shock with her eyes wide in betrayal as she realised that everything Harry had said was true, decided that she had to make her presence known once again. While she fully supported punishing criminals to the fullest extent of the law she was firmly against vigilantism.

"No matter what crimes he may be guilty of commiting, you have no right to take the law into your own hands. I don't know how things are run in England, but over here everyone has the right to a fair trial."

"While that may be true in most cases, madam, it most certainly does not apply here. For example, I could take Peter here, drag him into the middle of Time Square and decapitate him with several thousand witnesses watching on. Your law enforcement officers could arrest me and should they put me into a prison that could actually hold me, what do you think would come of that?"

"You would no doubt be put on trial for murder." She answered strongly but was confused when Harry only looked more smug.

"Wrong! Peter, why don't you tell your passionate wife what would await me should such events come to pass." When the man refused to say anything as he coward on the floor with his hands trying to stem the flow of blood from his nose Harry took a step forward and kicked him in the ribs. "Tell her, Peter!"

"A, a Presidential pardon." Wormtail answered, knowing full well that unlike the European nations, where the governments of the magical world and the muggle world are completely separete, in America the President is the leader of both, although only select members of Congress are made aware of the situation.

"Correct, Peter. You see, Mrs. Black, I am not just some thug who is out to punish those who have wronged me, but rather an agent of a government organization that, through various treaties, gives me the legal juristiction to operate in any country my targets may have run to. Until every Death Eater, that is what your husband is, is accounted for, I have the legal right and the proper orders to eliminate them on sight using whatever methods I chose once their identity is confirmed. Well, his identity is now confirmed, so, Peter, it is time for us to go." Harry finished as he reached down and grabbed the man by the shoulder and the two instantly vanished from the apartment. As soon as they were gone, the restraining spell on Amy Black was released and she nearly collapsed onto the floor as she could no longer keep her tears at bay.

XXX

"How, may I ask, did you get us past the wards?" Ron asked in shock after he, Hermione, Bill and Gabrielle appeared in Harry's living room.

"I'm keyed into the wards so I just extended my magical aura until it surrounded the two of you as well before activating the portkey. That charm I cast on you, would supress your magic for only about ten seconds but it was long enough, when combined with my aura to keep the wards from recognizing anyone but me until we were through." Gabrielle answered with a smug grin and even Hermione looked at her with an impressed expression.

"Well, to get to the job at hand, are you sure you want to do this here?" Bill asked as he looked around the messy room. Hermione and Gabrielle immediately began examining the different empty bottles and looking through the bathroom to see if there was proof of Harry using anything else. Bill was actually quite surprised when his sister-in-law contacted him the night before and demanded that he return to England to offer his aid with no other explaination. While he took his job in Egypt very seriously, the young Veela could be downright scary at times. Needless to say, he was quite shocked when Gabrielle explained the situation to him when he arrived and explained what she wanted him to do.

"Yes, this would be the best place. The last thing we want is for the world to find out that Harry Potter, of all people, was having problems such as this."

"You realise, of course, that it is going to take a hell of a lot of warding to keep him from escaping, don't you? We're going to have to take him by complete surprise and get his wand first and I'm not so sure about our chances, despite whatever problems he's having especially if he's wearing that armor of his when he arrives."

"Leave that to me. I've got more help coming."

"Now that's reassuring." Ron grunted in annoyance.

"Just calm down and sit tight, it could be several days before Harry gets back." Hermione scolded before pulling out her wand and throwing cleaning charms about.

XXX

Harry looked out over the water and just enjoyed the scenery of the skyscrapers of New York reaching towards the heavens for a moment before turning back towards his prisoner who was tightly restrained to the railing behind him. Harry had waited a long time to get his hands on him and now that he had the thought of his imminent death left him feeling more alive than he had in years. Peter was shaking in fear as he cast his tear stained eyes in any direction to aviod looking at him. Harry just sneered at the pathetic creature in front of him and had to bite back a chuckle as he noticed that he was now sitting in a puddle. Shaking his head, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small glass orb that was filled with a neon blue smoke when he tapped it with his wand.

"Identify yourself!" A woman's voice echoed quietly with a distinct New Jersey accent

"British Ministry of Magic, Department of Mysteries, Tactical Operations Division. Code name, Lazarus. ID number 749-3827B."

"Access code?"

"Transmitting now." Harry responding, touching his wand to the orb once again before whispering a long incantation comprised of seven distinct languages.

"Access code accepted! Please continue."

"Target designation, DE715, Peter Oliver Pettigrew, located in New York City, NY. under alias, James Harrison Black. Pick up requested, Liberty Island, New York." After sending his message Harry tapped the orb with his wand once again and it instantly cleared before putting it back into his pocket.

"Now, Peter. I thought long and hard about what I was going to do to you. For quite a while I wanted nothing more than to torture you to death, making it as slow and painful as possible while I savor every one of your screams. Now, however, I just want to be rid of you. Make no mistake about it, I'm still going to make a very good example out of you, but lucky for you, it will be quick." Roughly pulling the man to his feet, Harry threw a previously unseen rope over his head as he paid no attention to the man's sobs and pleading. He took his wand and firmly jabbed it into the back of Peter's neck to ensure that the stress didn't pop his head off. Well not completely any way. While a decapitation may leave a good impression in the minds of those that may chose to follow the Death Eaters' example, he had a much better idea.

"Please, Harry, please don't do this. Think of James and Lily, and Sirius, they wouldn't want you to do this, to become a murderer."

"While they may or may not approve, I will never truly know, will I? Because you took away any chance I had at getting to know them. Goodbye, Peter." Harry said emotionlessly as he pulled out a dagger and slit the man's throat. He did likewise to his abdomen before pushing his parents' betrayer over the railing that wrapped around the torch held high by the Statue of Liberty. When the rope snapped tight Harry looked down in satisfaction. The Death Eater's bowels had spilled out and were now hanging out of his body as it swung back and forth. The most interesting, or sickening, sight, depending on how you felt about such things, was the fact that with his throat already cut, the stress had ripped the rest of the flesh around his neck and pulled about eighteen inches of his backbone out of the top.

"Yes, that sight should definetely get people's attention." Harry mused to himself before placing an obscuring charm on his face as he activated a special portkey that would take him directly into the very heart of the Ministry of Magic. The room he appeared in was nothing special, more like a nicely constructed broom cupboard. It was small, Harry could raise his arms out and place his hands flat against the opposite sides, and octogon shaped with highly polished mahogony panaling. The room was designed and installed specificly for 'guests' of the Minister's that were either in to much of a rush to travel to the office on foot or, and more importantly, people interested in keeping their visit private and out of public record. Harry had found much use of that little room these last few years, much to his shock concidering who now held the office after Minister Scrimgeour was forced to resign in disgrace after it was learned that his wife was passing classified information on to Bellatrix Lestrange. Information that no minister should have allowed his wife access to.

Almost immediately a dim red light above the door in front of him lit up, warning of a visiter it the outer office while the door itself became semi transparent, giving him a good view. For the most part the office was empty except for the Minister's secretary, Abigail Michell, and the man that currently stood in front of her desk. The very desk that Percy Weasley occupied a number of years previous. Harry couldn't hear what was being descussed but it was clear that whatever was on the man's mind, he felt it should be brought to the Minister's attention immediately while his secretary felt different. After a few moments her attention was pulled away by a small buzzing sound coming from her wrist watch that would alert her to any new arrivals.

Appearing to let out a small sigh of relief, she quickly stood up, walked around her desk and began ushering the man to another door while promising that the Minister would see him soon. The door led to a small reception area where guests could relax comfortably while they wait but for the most part it was primarily used for getting rid of people since the door couldn't be opened from the other side. A person could only handle waiting for so long and sooner or later they would leave and maybe next time they would think about at least attempting to make an appointment before hand.

Once the door was sealed Abigail reached under her desk to release the locking charm on the door, allowing Harry to enter the outer office. Any relief she may have been feeling before hand quickly vanished when she saw who entered. She may not have been able to see his face but she didn't have to. The man had never done anything to her, personally, and he had never been anything other than polite but she was well aware of what he, and others like him, were capable of and that alone frightened her no matter who he may be working for.

"Lazarus, to see Minister Parkinson." Harry anounced in a silky tone as he stepped forward.

"Right away, Sir." Abigail responded quickly and only her dignity kept her from running at full speed into the Minister's office, but it was a close call. Harry chuckled to himself at the reaction the young woman always seemed to give him. He found it amusing that if he came into the office with no disguise, as Harry Potter, she looked at him with profound respect, even a little lust. But throw a masking charm over his face and that quickly turns to fear. Enjoying such reactions is one of the few delites he gets out of this society.

"The Minister will see you now." Harry was by no means surprised at the quick response and merely nodded his thanks as he walked throught the door, the young woman moving as far as she could 'politely' move away from him as he passed. The office was exactly the same as the last time he'd been there, with a large dark cherry desk in the center of the rounded room, nearly all available wall space covered in shelves, with the obvious exception including doors, the fireplace and the large bay style windows at the back of the room. It was richly decorated with high quality furniture that was accented with silver and gold and a number of marble busts of promonent past Ministers.

"Harry, its been a while." Minister Parkinson greeted warmly as he stood up and rounded his desk. He wasn't particularly tall, maybe an inch or so taller than Harry himself, but he was solidly built and had a hard set face. His normal cheerful demeanor aside, the look in his eyes and the way he carried himself made it clear to anyone with working senses that he was not a man you wanted to make an enemy. His raven black hair and short trimmed beard were specked with just enough grey to give him that 'refined' look without appearing old.

"Marcus, its good to see you to." Harry responded as he shook the man's hand after dropping the concealment charm on his face. While he was a student at Hogwarts he no doubt would have thought the idea of him being friendly, or even civil, to the father of Pansy Parkinson would have been ludicrous. But he had come to find that while Marcus may have doted on his daughter, they most certainly did not see eye to eye on a great many things. While Pansy was by no means a Death Eater, she certainly held a great many prejudices that they cherish. After meeting her mother, Constance, Harry could only come to the conclusion that Pansy was in effect 'spoiled' by the young Death Eater 'spawn' that infested Slytherin house at the time like so many others were. After calling in a few favors, and a few bribes, he was able to get Parkinson's voting record from when he served on the Wizengamot and found that not only was he certainly not pro Voldemort but he was also that rare breed of politian that genuinely seemed to want to do what was best for the people rather than just what was best for himself. The fact that Neville had literally known the man all his life also had an impact on Harry's opinion.

"I imagine that you have returned to report on another group of recently deceased Death Eaters?" Marcus asked with a knowing smile as he retook his seat which caused Harry to look at the man in confusion.

"Now how in the hell did you know that?"

"Croaker briefed me about an hour ago. It seems Neville returned just yesterday. Between him and your man 'Constantine', they were able to wipe out nearly all that remained of Tom's former top associates. I merely assumed that you were here because you took care of the rest. But the question that plagues me is why did you bring this to me before your own department?"

"I didn't bring this to you. You made assumptions about my presense here based on the information you had available. The fact is that I fully intend to resign after I take care of one more job and..."

"I figured as much. Neville filed his the moment he got back."

"I know. The reason I am here, now instead of later, will be made much simpler if I still have the backing of the Department."

"And that reason is?"

"Constantine." Harry answered shortly much to the Minister's surprise. Harry, and later, Neville as well, had been notoriously tight lipped about anything regarding the man. Not even giving any information to their own team members, all of whom were now deceased. Marcus was not a man that enjoyed not knowing something, so of course, he pried around abit but found nothing.

"I'm here to petition for the full and unconditional pardon of Severus Snape." Harry couldn't help but admire how easily the Minister's shock was supressed as he quickly schooled his features into an almost bored like expression before he demanded an explaination. For the next hour, Harry went into far more detail than he did with Gabrielle, explaining every last bit of information Snape had passed to them as well as the reasons behind Dumbledore's death.

"I assume that you are bringing this to me now because you have proof of his actions?" Marcus asked in an expressionless tone.

"Of course. Three days from now, Snape will be in conference room 12 of Gringotts where he will meet with the necessary investigators for an official inquiry where he will sudmit to questioning under Veritaserum and memory extractions to be viewed in a Wizengamot authorized pencieve."

"Why not come to the Ministry itself?"

"Although I may trust you and Croaker, that trust does not extend to much of the rest of the Ministry. Since Amelia Bones was murdered, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement has passed from one incompetent to another, who seem more interested in advancing themselves than they do about getting to the truth of such a matter. Arresting the 'assassin' of Albus Dumbledore would certainly gain them much more prestige then they would recieve if they pardoned him.

"With that in mind, the questioning will take place in a location that we can at least partially control. Either myself, Neville, or both will be at his side at all times and we will all be fully armed, Snape included, in the event that the Aurors try to take him by force. Goblin guards will also be on hand to prevent any unpleasantness within their walls. Rita Skeeter and Laitus Lovegood will both be present and are under oaths to ensure that they report the proceedings as they truly happen instead of what certain elements within the Ministry may wish the public to believe."

"Should the Aurors reject your demands and continue their hunt for Snape, what will you do then?" Marcus asked curiously after observing the younger man silently for a few minutes.

"Laitus has assured me that he will run the story anyway and I will use what influence I have to make sure the Prophet does the same. If anything good came out of this war its that after it was proven that Voldemort had indeed returned the public realised that they couldn't simply go on hiding their heads in the sand anymore. They now ask questions instead of merely losing themselves to rumor and unsubstantiated allegations. Which is exactly why you are in power now, instead of Scrimgeour. It is, of course, no secret that Snape has made a vast number of enemies over the years, between his time at Hogwarts, as both a student and a professor, and the death of Dumbledore, but with Harry bloody Potter of all people vouching for him, it will certainly raise a great many questions. The public may well demand that the Ministry accept my terms.

"On the other hand, if getting a fair hearing becomes impossible, he has the knowledge, experience necessary to disappear. And with funding and aid from Neville and myself, and certainly many others within the Department of Mysteries when Constantine's true identity becomes known to them, the Aurors could hunt for him for the rest of time and never find a trace. I don't care what the Aurors think, with very few exceptions, they are nothing more than glorified security guards. It was the Unspeakables, not the Aurors, that won this war and the vast majority of our intellegence came from Snape. The rest of the Department will not allow that debt to go unpaid."

XXX

"Are you sure there is no way to talk him out of this insanity? It could very well be suicide." Neville looked over at his now former boss, John Croaker, and sighed lightly. Croaker was an Unspeakable and was promoted four years ago when the former Department head was killed during an attack on the Ministry.

"No Sir, he's been determined to do this for a number of years and now that Voldemort is gone no force on earth is going to stop him." Neville responded as the two stood alone in what many had called the Death Chamber.

"I was afraid you were going to say that." Croaker grunted irritably. As payment for his work with the Department of Mysteries, Harry had demanded only one thing, access to ALL research conducted concerning the arch that Sirius Black had fallen through when he arrived at the Ministry to rescue Harry at the end of his fifth year. While everyone else had written his godfather off, he had never given up hope that he may still be alive in some form or another. Much to his relief he found that his hopes had not been in vain when a file, previously available to only the head of the Department, revealed the true nature of the ominous archway and the very reason it was no longer used as a means of execution.

What only three or four people alive knew was that the so called Veil of Death was not a one way portal to the afterlife but possibly a doorway into another demention. According to theory, there could literally be millions upon millions of parallel universes that have developed differently depending on the different choices that people have made.

Contrary to popular belief, there have been many that have actually exited the Veil at different times, though it has been years since this has occured. The basis of this theory is that those that have come through were clearly from a different reality from their own. Through questioning under Veritaserum and a great deal of investigation they came to the conclusion that each of these people came from the same reality, a reality where the Muggle world and the Magical world had never split into two separate and independent societies. A reality where Hogwarts not only taught magic, but also taught wizards and muggles alike how to merge magic and technology to create advancments that would be impossible for either technique to acomplish alone. This fact, and the fact that not a single person that had entered the veil had returned led them to believe that each veil was locked on to one specific corresponding universe.

Unfortunately, if this theory proves to be true, one could constantly reenter the veil as soon as they exit and never reach the end of the line, finding the veil that would send them back to their own world. However, Arnold Perkins, head of the department during the war with Grindelwald, speculated that if you had something magically powerful enough binding you to your original demention it would be possible to return simply by stepping back through the veil. Needless to say, there were none who wished volunteer to test such a theory. Untill now anyway.

The two men were pulled out of their thoughts when the door on the far side of the chamber opened and Harry strode in without a single emotion showing on his face or in his eyes but Neville knew him well enought to know that he was just as nervous, probably more so, then he was.

"Harry," Croaker sighed. "Would it do any good if I ordered you to abandon this idea?"

"Not one bit, no. Here," He continued as he passed several sealed envelopes to the man. "Inside you'll find all the arrangements I've made with Minister Parkinson concerning Constantine. Neville will give you a full briefing once I'm gone but if I don't return in time I would greatly appreciate it if you were to give Neville your full support in the matter. I trust Marcus, but I wouldn't be surprised if the Aurors tried something incrediably stupid." Croaker and just about everyone else involved knew that Harry's 'informant' was obviously a Death Eater, or at least close to them, but as of yet they hadn't been made aware of his identity.

Neville silently stepped forward and embraced his friend in a tight hug before handing him a peice of parchment with eight double digit numbers writen in no discernable order and two peices of what appeared to be strips of gold, roughly an inch and a half wide and six inches long. Each had numerous runes carved into them with a small circular ruby fixed into the center. Without a second thought, after placing the parchment into his pocket, he placed one against the bare skin of his lower left arm and watched dispassionately as it wrapped itself tightly around his wrist as if it were a mere peice of jewlery. Neville did the same with his own and as it secured itself to his arm the rubies on each lit up with a dull light, signifying that they were now active, magically binding the two.

They were commonly known as Prisoner's Braclets and were once used in transporting criminals and the like. An Auror would wear one and could have those of at most eleven prisoners keyed to his own and if one tried to escape he would feel pain that only the Cruciatus curse, and now Harry's new potion, could surpass. Naturally they were very effective, very few managed to get far. They were abandoned and deemed illegal in the mid sixtienth century when the Ministry decided that it must outlaw any magic that could one day become a threat to their power. It was decided that only dark magic could produce such pain and must therefore be stamped out.

Tucking the other braclet into his cloak and taking a few deep breaths to steady his nerves, Harry stepped up to the Veil without another word to his companions. Neville stood close by at his side to inusre there were no reactions from the braclets until it became unavoidable. Harry stood before the arch and closed his eyes as, like a few times before, he once again heard voices coming from beyond, though they were to distant to make out any specific words. He had a host of emotions running through him, ranging from fear, anger, depression and even hate as he thought of all the pain he had gone through in his short life. He hoped that this would in some way relieve him of such feelings, one way or another, he stepped through without a backwards glance.

The feeling that washed over him was nothing short of sickening. He had never been on a rollercoaster before, unless you count the Gringotts carts, but he was pretty sure that none could match this experience. He felt as if his body was being pulled forward at speeds thought to have been impossible for the human body to withstand, occasionally jerking slightly as if to change directions. His eyes were wide open in shock but all he could see was blackness with thousands of small bright white lights speeding past him as his body continued on, though he did not know if they were truly there or were mere figments of his imagination, similar to the lights you see dancing before your eyes when you are suffocating or get hit upside the head.

Thankfully, almost as quick as the experience began, it suddenly came to an abrupt end as a bright flash of red light nearly blinded him and what felt like a very powerful stunner washed over his body. The stunner having little effect, he found himself once again standing in the 'Death Chamber'. He just stood there for several moments with his eyes closed as he tried to re-orient himself and get his stomach under control before a quiet gasp grabbed his attention. Almost to fast for the eye to see, he had both his wands trained on two of the three witches that seemed to have been running tests on the archway to his right while the third just stood there with her mouth hanging open and eyes wide and unblinking. None of them looked familiar and they didn't look particularly dangerous but having no idea where he was he wasn't going to take any chances.

"You," Harry snapped, looking at the woman closest to him. "Is the stunning spell the only one on this arch?" Seemingly unable to speak, she merely shook her head rapidly, never taking her eyes off him or his wand. "Is there an alarm of some sorts? Good, so your superior should be here momentarily, correct?"

"Y, ye, yes!"

"Excellent! Then when he, or she, arrives, inform them that I will be back momentarily!" Without waiting for a response, Harry stepped backwards through the arch once again.

"HARRY! IT WORKED!" Neville shouted with more excitement then he had seem from the young man in years before sobering quickly. "The numbers?" He asked in a curious but demanding tone as his hand hovered over his wand. After taking a moment to collect himself once again, Harry reached into his pocket to remove the slip of parchment Neville had given him just minutes before. They decided to use these numbers as a code to let them know that he was in the right place. While the chances were extremely remote, it was entirely possible that after stepping through the arch for the second time he could very well land in a different universe where Harry Potter also went through the Veil.

"36, 19, 87, 42, 56, 13, 79, and 77." Harry answered and then unconsciously held his breath as his friend skimmed over his own note to be sure that they were the right numbers and in the right order. He breathed a heavy sigh of relief as both Neville and Croaker nodded in satisfaction.

"Well, it would seem that Perkins' theory has now proven correct. Did the braclet give you too much trouble?" Harry just looked at his superior stupidly for a brief moment before remembering his Prisoner's Braclet, causing him to shake his head before slowly moving away from Neville. He was able to get just past the arch, about five feet away from his friend, before his left arm felt as if it were searing in white hot flames as the red ruby placed in the center of the braclet lit up in crimson fire, punishing him for straying to far away from his captor, Neville. It took just a few quick, deep breaths to get the pain under control before stepping back to his previous position.

"Alright, this is just a theory, mind you, but the facts do seem to point to this conclusion." Croaker began after thinking in silence for a few minutes. "With an active connection between the two arches, the magic in the braclets couldn't recognize the actual distance traveled. Then again, it could also be that even though Longbottom wasn't with you the bracelet didn't understand that you were no longer in your own world and assumed that he was acually standing on his corresponding location on the otherside. Basicly, if he were standing inside Hunnydukes here and you did the same there, or whatever may be in it's place, the bracelets would still be under the impression that you are by his side."

"Alright, thats enough theories for the time being, I'm going back throught now!" Harry stated firmly before drawing two of his wands. The first time he went through, his 'hosts' were caught off guard by his sudden appearance but that would certainly not be the case this time if his little message had been delivered, and believed for that matter.

XXX

"You're joking, right?" A confused Unspeakable asked as he spoke with one of the researchers that had raised the alarm. He was in his mid to late fifties, possibly early sixties, with steel grey hair and sharp brown eyes that were narrowed in suspicion as he tried to detect whether or not the young woman was lying. He could appreciate a good joke as well as the next man but he hated the idea that he may have been made the butt of some ridiculous prank.

When the alarms went off, half of the department's security personnel was dispatched to what was once christened 'The Death chamber' when the Dementor's Kiss was outlawed three hundred ago. This form of capital punishment was abandoned in the in the late ninetienth century after the devestating war with the Arazul, a council of Dark Lord's from around the world that nearly destroyed the world that they knew. Over two hundred thousand witches and wizards were killed in Europe, the Middle East and North Africa alone. Casualties in Asia and the Americas were still unknown due to many devastating attacks that completely destroyed a great many of the victems, making an accurate body count impossible. Thankfully there had been no such conflicts within the magical world since this time, though they did have the odd upstart but they were quickly taken care of.

"I wish I were, but I'm not. He just stepped out of the Viel and asked me to get my superiors before saying that he would be right back and stepping back through. Jacob, I've got a strange feeling about this guy. If, and I mean, IF, he does come back through, tread very carefully, he kept his mind and magic tightly under wraps but I could feel that he has well above average power and it's very chaotic. He could be very dangerous." Anything 'Jacob' was going to say in reply was cut off when he heard many of his men begin cursing in shock, one even squealed quite loudly. Turning around with his wand drawn, he didn't let the surprise he felt show as he surveyed the young man that was now standing before the arch not but ten feet away from his current positition.

He was dressed mostly in black and his features somehow seemed slightly familar, with his unruly black hair, defined cheek and jaw bones and his eyes, but it was the wands he held in both hands that caught his attention straight away.

"EXPELLIARMUS!" He shouted and much to his surprise the younger man lept into action before the disarming charm had even left his wand.

XXX

As Harry made it through the arch once more he was by no means surprised to see ten members of the Ministry security personnel as well as three men who were Unspeakables, no doubt, as well as the researchers that had previously been there. For several seconds, no one seemed to notice him until one man turned towards his direction and began screaming in a very high and undignified tone. As one, everyone in the room turmed towards him with their hands reaching for their wands, however the man just a number of feet to his right was the first to make a serious move and before he could even finish his incantation, Harry bolted forward as he raised both wands and began casting spell after spell. None would cause any long lasting harm but they would certainly take their targets out of the fight perminently, thus he would fore go using easily reversable spells such as stunner and body binds.

Surprised by this tactic, three of the wizards had been taken out before they could properly respond but even then they had been given expressed orders that the man should be 'detained' and so far every spell that they used to meet this goal had either been blocked or had been easily absorbed by his armour.

As he faught, Harry had to continuously reinforce his occlumency sheilds to keep the pain that his prisoner's bracelet that was flooding through his body at bay. Under normal circumbstances, strengthening his shields would be no problem but trying to concentrate on the fight at the same time was a daunting task to say the least.

Within a matter of minutes the researchers and regular security were all incopacitated, quite easily, as a matter of fact. The three Unspeakables, however, were a different story. After trading spells with the two men and one woman for a few minutes he knew without a doubt that he was better then them, but he was still out numbered three to one so the odds were not in his favor even though his armour gave him a big advantage.

Over all, all three had fairly decent skills, though two of them were well below his standards, probably as skilled Shacklebolt, which was no small feat but he was surprised that this was acceptable to the Department of Mysteries, who, in his world at least, holds all of their field agents to a higher degree of training. The exception was the older man who was obviously their superior. He could probably hold his own with Neville for quite some time before he would no doubt be defeated eventually.

"You're good, boy, I'll give you that, but you can't hope to defeat all three of us after you have expended so much energy." Jacob said firmly as he and his two companions slowly advanced on the much younger man. Harry, who was slowly stepping back, stepping over unmoving bodies he couldn't even see, suddenly stopped and glared at the man for his use of the word 'boy'. With a simply flick of his wand, Harry sent three of the unconcious men flying through the air towards his opponents. The older of the three was able to throw himself out of the way to avoid the collision but his companions were not so lucky.

Harry watched dispassionately as one of the Unspeakables slammed into the wall behind him, falling unconscious due to the impact to the back of his head, while the woman struggled with the larger body on top of her as she tried to reach her wand that lay several feet away. A simple stunning spell took her out of the fight after her banished her wand to the other side of the room.

"You were saying!" The two men began circling each other slowly, both reading their opponent for any sign of their next move when a new voice damanded their attention, but for different reasons.

"My, my, my, my, my, what a mess." Both men turned slightly towards the new arrival, Harry raising his other wand to cover both men. He didn't let the sight of little Filius Flitwick surprise him in the least, instead he groaned slightly, knowing that if this Flitwick was anything like the one he knew then he was going to be a handful.

"Mr. Potter, would you bring our new friend to my office while the medics put these people back together?" Harry looked sharply at the man opposite him at the name Potter, while he was looked at him with mistrust and anger. After a few moments thought, Harry stored both his wands back on his wrists, but kept his mind open to his surroundings, and turned to follow the short ancient wizard with 'Potter' following close behind.

"Do you feel more comfortable with your wand pointed at a man's back?" Harry asked with an unseen smirk as they entered a deserted hallway.

"Directer Flitwick may be interested in you, boy, but you have given no one any reason to trust you, especially after your little display in there." The older man snapped angrily as he thought about all of the good people that would be spending a great deal of time in medical. He was further angered by the low chuckle that he heard in response. Before he could utter another word, the man in front of him burst into action, almost too fast for the eye to see. Not but a second later he was standing stock still with dagger resting against his throat.

"Let this be known, old man, I could have killed you at any moment. You and your co-workers are alive for the simple fact that I wished it. How is that for trust?" Harry whispered into the man's ear before he released his hold and pushed the man forward. "I think for the time being it would be prudent for you to lead me, instead of the other way around, don't you think? We wouldn't want you doing anything stupid, now would we?"

Ten minutes later Harry stepped in to the now recongnizable office of the Director of the Department of Mysteries though with the numerous objects laying about, it looked more like a cross between the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts, when Dumbledore was still alive, and his own, where he had a great deal of research covering every free space, regarding the viel and Voldemort's Horcruxes.

Flitwick silently rounded his desk and proped himself up in his chair before it rose up off the floor to give his short stature a more realistic view of everything around him. Jacob Potter moved to stand at his superior's right side, all the while glaring at Harry. Flitwick took a moment to cast many privacy wards before turning his full attention back to the young man standing in front of him.

"I had not believed that I would come across one of you kind again, Mr..."

"Lazarus." Harry responded in an emotionless tone.

"Lazarus, interesting code name. Did you rise from the dead or some such?" The older Potter was completely confused by this reference but it caused Harry to smirk slightly.

"In a manner of speaking. What do you mean, 'My kind'?" His code name was actually given to him by Hestia shortly after she found out he was training to work with the Unspeakables. Unlike the vast majority of wizardkind, who practiced very little, if any, organized religion, she was a devote catholic. All though he never rose from the dead, she felt it was appropriate, given that he was immune to the killing curse, a fact that she, and the few others that knew kept to themselves.

"I meant precisely that, Lazarus. Your armour and the runes enscribed on it has not escaped my notice. It has been many decades since this Department has had the need to train men such as yourself, so it is most curious to have a member of a Hunter Team suddenly appear within our walls."

"THIS is an Unspeakable? Impossible!" Potter spat but Harry paid him no mind.

"Judging by the charms you have placed on the Viel, it is not without reason that you know perfectly well how I got here, and where I come from." Harry stated as he summoned his credentials from his shunken bag that was stored within his robes.

"Indeed." Flitwick picked up the black dragonhide wallet that Harry had tossed onto his desk and began looking it over. "Well, your Ministry certainly seems to trust you a great deal." He commented as he looked over the long list of abbrviations that showed his clearance level and the secure facilities within the Ministry that he had access to. After a moment, he tapped it with his wand and muttered a soft incantation but he didn't look hopeful. And he was proven correct when nothing happened.

The charm he used was to reveal the more personal information held within the ID, picture, name, age and so on. Only Director Croaker and Harry himself can access this information as it requires their magical signiture. Deciding to show the man a little trust, Harry stepped forward and tapped the ID with his own wand and the information shimmered for a moment before it began to change.

"Intresting!" The old man muttered to himself as his eyes glanced at his second in command for a brief moment. He hadn't seen young Harry Potter since he was eight years old but Jacob and his parents spoke very highly of his potential. If the young man standing in front of him was any indication then that potential was even greater than any of them realized. On the other hand, there was an enormace difference between gaining skill through training and study in a controled enviorment as opposed to recieving that training with practical experience through long years of bloody war as 'Lazarus' had obviously achieved.

"Now," he began once again as he passed Harry's wallet back to him. "The fact that you came and went and then returned once more is most interesting indeed, but ignoring that for now, you also came armed and ready for a confrontation, pointing to the obvious fact that you did not come against your will. I wonder, what kind of man risks his life, risks never seeing his home again, to do such a thing?"

"The kind that has nothing left to lose."

"And your reason for coming?"

"Seven years ago a man close to me was forced through the Veil during a fight within the Death Chamber. I'm here to get him back."

"I assume you are speaking of Sirius Black?"

"Correct! I would have certainly come a lot sooner but my world has been in a state of war for years now, and I had other more pressing obligations, a problem that has now been resolved."

"Yes, thankfully, we have not had such a conflict for a great many years now." Flitwick nodded. "As I recall, he was quite confused and agitated about his situation when we revived him, and understandably so, but after thurough questioning he was cleared of any wrong doing so we helped him set up a new life here, as we have done with the more 'adventurous' researchers your Ministry has sent through. Though he has no legal ties with the Black family, he was able to keep his name under the guise of arriving in this demention as the result of some research in to Time Turners gone wrong."

"Sirius? Doing research? Into Time Turners, no less? People actually bought that pile of shit?"

"Yes, they did, when explained that the research was needed for a prank that would turn the Hogwarts professors back into the students they were." Flitwick chuckled slightly at the thought, though just a few years ago Sirius had done exactly that, without needing the fictional research into Time Turners. Anyone could get similar 'physical' results with a simple de-aging potion, but turning them into their younger selves in both mind and body was something different entirely.

"Wait a moment. He's using his real name? Isn't the other Sirius, the one native to this world, a bit upset with having someone walking around looking like them, using his name and so on?"

"Not really, no. Sirius Black had an unfortunate accident in his fifth year and has since found no further use for his name." Harry looked at the amused little man in confusion, wondering what the hell he could have done twenty five years ago that is still having lasting results. After several moments thought, he groaned loudly.

"He got stuck in his animagus form, didn't he?"

"Begging your pardon, Sir, but what the hell is going on here? This man injured at least a dozen people, he should be locked up immediately." Jacob spoke up yet again, his confusion over the situation only serving to anger him further.

"If you remember correctly, it was you who made the first move, you who cast the first spell!"

"And how would you know that? You couldn't even see me from your angle?" Harry was really beginning to dislike this man.

"It's called Legillemency, I would thing that as an Unspeakable you would be trained how to employ the art during combat, but I guess I set my expectations a little to high." He replied in a mocking tone.

"I will have you know that I am a master Occlumans. No one, not even the Director could enter my mind undetected." Potter snapped angrily. Apparently Harry touched a nerve when questioning the man's abilities.

"You are a fool! NO ONE can close their mind off completely. If you were to do so, you would, in effect, be a prisoner within your own mind, unable to control your body. As a result, you can only shield your thoughts and memories. If you have enough skill you can instead read the nerve impulses as they leave the brain, giving you advanced warning of any movement. You don't even have to come into contact with the occlumency shields, thus, remaining undetected." Harry lectured before sneering. "What, they didn't teach you this before you got your mastery? I didn't expect an agent of this Department to be so inept, but like I said, I guess I set my expectations a little too high."

"JUST WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?" The man screamed in rage as he leveled his wand at Harry's chest.

"You are really beginning to try my patience." Harry growled at the older man before Flitwick cut them both off.

"NOW THAT IS ENOUGH, BOTH OF YOU!" There was no squeak in his voice as he bellowed and the power he radiated was clear to see. Though he wasn't as powerful as Harry, himself, he was pretty close, closer than even Dumbledore had been. "Now, as to our young guest's identity, I would think, Jacob, that you would recognize your own nephew when you saw him, but perhaps I was mistaken." The old dwarf chuckled as his powerful aura was pulled back into his body.

Jacob looked at his superior as if he were a complete fool for several long moments before turning back the Harry who was looking at him with a raised eyebrow. As he noted when he saw the man first emerge from the Viel, he looked very familer but now that the connection was pointed out to him he could clearly see the resemblance though there were VERY noticable differences.

This Harry was noticably darker, harder. His eyes were dull and nearly lifeless and his face didn't hold that bright love of life he was familar with. While he had spoken with Sirius on a number of occasions over the last seven years, he was firmly tight lipped about the details of the world he came from and he couldn't help but wonder what had happened that so differed about their worlds that would cause such a drastic difference between the young man he loved and the one standing in front of him.

"How, how is this possible?" He asked as he turned back to Flitwick. After a few moments thought, the old dwarf had him swear an oath of secrecy before explaining exactly what the Veil was and the more realistic theories they had been able to come up with over the centuries. Harry supplied the two men with the theory that all of the arches were connected together, down a line of sorts, since Flitwick was under the impression that the connections were completely random, changing from minute to minute.

"Now the question that plagues my mind is how you were able to come back here after you had left, pressumably back to you origional world."

"Quite simple. A former head of our Department theorized that if you could maintain a connection between two people, or objects, then when re-entering the Veil, that connection would carry them back to their place of origin. That is why I left again right after I had arrived, I was making sure that the theory was accurate, and it was."

"What are you using for a connection?" Flitwick asked in fasination. As an answer, Harry merely raised his left arm and pulled back his sleeve, revealing the Prisoner's Bracelet. Both men paled dramatically at the sight of the object and looked at Harry as if he were completely insane, and they were probably at, least partially, right.

"GOOD LORD!" Flitwick exclaimed while Potter cursed slightly under his breath. "Doesn't that hurt?" He asked, seemingly unable to think of a proper reply.

"Extremely!" Harry replied with a raised eyebrow. "Now, back to the situation at hand."

"Oh, yes, well I think a meeting with Mr. Black can easily be arranged, and the sooner the better." The last bit was muttered quietly as he glanced back at Harry's now covered left arm.

Much to his shock, he found that Sirius was actually working at Hogwarts as the Charms Professor. Harry really had to question the sanity of anyone that would put a prankster of his caliber in a position of authority over that many children. From what he understood, he had matured a great deal when compared to his frame of mind before being sent to Azkaban but even with that 'maturity', at times the man that he knew was more childlike than most children your bound to come across.

Before leaving Flitwick's office, Harry raised his hood to prevent anyone from recognizing his features, though it seemed unnessary as Harry Potter's 'Uncle' didn't even make the connection until it was pointed out to him. While heading through the Department of Mysteries to leave the Ministry, they first stopped by the Death Chamber where Harry just stood next to the Veil for nearly twenty minutes while he tried to shake off the pain that flared throughout his body and re-enforce his weakened Occlumency shields. It was easy enough work, but tedious, and the pain effected him more than he would ever admit to anyone, even himself.

Flitwick offered to simply send a message to Hogwarts to have Sirius meet with them there but Harry liked the idea of desending upon the ancient school of magic and taking him completely by surprise. If he was called to the Ministry by the head of the Department of Mysteries he may very well be able to work out part of the situation, thus spoiling some of his fun.

Even though he had been waiting for this for seven years now, he couldn't help feeling a bit sick as a result of the fear that was steadily increasing deep in his gut. It has, after all, been a long time. While it was true that he hadn't exactly known the man for very long, he still meant a great deal to him, even after this long absence. Had Sirius completely moved on? Had he latched onto the 'alternate' versions of his long dead friends and have no wish to leave? Questions like this plagued his mind as he walked and didn't even realize that they had made it to the lobby until Flitwick pushed a portkey into his hand and activated it.

Thankfully, he had learned long ago the key to staying upright when using this form of magical transportation but he was certain that he would never feel comfortable enough using them to simply shake off the nausiating feeling they created in his head and stomach though he refused to show any outward sense of discomfort. After taking a brief few seconds to get his bearings, he looked around and found himself standing in the wizarding community of Hogsmeade but found it a bit differnet from the one he was familar with.

The layout was pretty much the same, with the exception of a few shops he had never seen before while others were missing. As he walked through the streets he noticed that the drastic difference lay in its over all size. He couldn't be one hundred percent sure with such a limited view, but it seemed to be at least fifty percent larger with a much bigger population. Then again, they had had over a century of relative peace, allowing their community to grow while the last century of his world was dominated by three devistating wars with wizards that were hell bent on wiping out all that stood against them. Not exactly a situation that promotes population growth.

As he followed closely behind Flitwick, Harry couldn't help but smirk slightly as he 'felt' Jacob Potter follow at what he believed was a safe distance with his wand still in his hand. He had to give the man points for his persistance if nothing else.

He wasn't sure why, but as Hogwarts came into view, he silently thanked every deity that might have been listening that the school looked exactly like the one he had known. While some of his worst memories had occured within the castle or on its grounds, he felt that it had always been his true home and the thought of it being any different seemed like a sacralidge to him. A ridiculous thought, for sure, but people were ridiculous beings.

While crossing the grounds he took notice the absence of Hagrid's hut and wondered what had transpired to change that detail. Was Hagrid rejected as a Hogwart's student because of his giant heritage? Had he been killed? Had he ever even been born? The familar hum of magic that washed over him as he stepped through the massive doors leading into the entrence hall. The Great Hall to his left was empty and the surrounding corridors were silent pointing to the obvious fact that classes were in session.

"Jacob, would you go ahead and brief the Headmaster on the situation while we go collect the wayward Mr. Black?" Potter nodded sharply before re-holstering his was and making his way to the fifth floor, where the Headmaster's office was located, while Harry followed Flitwick to the seventh floor where the charms classroom and office were located. The journey to Sirius' classroom went by alot quicker than he would have liked. In not time at all, they were approaching an open door with laughter echoing throughout the whole corridor.

"From what I understand, Mr. Black prefers teach by showing his students how any given charm can be used for pranks. While the students love it, most of the teaching staff find it a bit childish and annoying." Harry just nodded as they entered the door, Flitwick stopping just inside while Harry just leaned against the doorframe as he watched his Godfather happily demonstrate several unique charms on willing students. Harry couldn't help but smile as he saw the large grin on the older man's face. It reminded him of the Christmas he had spent at Grimmuald Place during his fifth year.

Sirius had basically been locked up for months, he had been angry, scared for Harry's safty and lonely. Having that depressing house full of people he cared about for the holidays had lifted his spirits a great deal. He had told his godson that it was the happiest he had been since his escape from Azkaban.

"Can I help you gentlemen?" Sirius asked in confusion. Flitwick's presence, while unexpected, wasn't completely surprising. He had been trying for years to get more information about his home, information he was hesitant to devulge for obvious reasons. However, the fact that he appeared during a class and the presence of the other man worried him slightly. However, before Flitwick could respond, Harry, himself spoke up.

"I must say, I am surprised! Sirius Black with a respectable profession? What would Moony think, though I suspect that Molly would be pleased!" Sirius looked at Harry with narrowed eyes.

"Who the hell are you?" He asked in a slightly harsh and suspicious vioce as his students watched on in confusion.

"Oh, you wound me!" Harry responded dramatically as he brought his hand up to his chest. "You disappear for seven years and you forget everyone you left behind? I think I'm going to cry!" He continued with a fake sniffle. Sirius looked at him in confusion, then shock as he figured out the meaning of his words, and then back to confusion as he tried to figure out who he was. Though he didn't like an audience, he decided to take pity on the man and reached up to lower his hood. Instantly a collective gasp sounded throughout the room, Sirius included.

'I guess Harry Potter is well known here as well.' Harry thought to himself with a little bit of disgust. He had hoped that he could move around more or less unnoticed but apparently that was not to be.

"Harry?" The young man in question barely had time to nod before he was swept into a powerful hug that made Molly Weasley seem like a five year old.

"Bloody Hell!" Harry cursed loudly before he skillfully extracted himself from the tight embrace without hurting the man, too much. "What the hell, Sirius? You trying to break my spine or something?" He asked as he stretched out his back, Sirius was doing the same to his shoulder but the smile never left his face.

"What are you doing here? How did you get here? How is everyone, what about Voldemort?"

"Slow down, Padfoot! To answer your questions, I'm here to find you and I got here the same way you did! Everyone, well everyone thats still alive, is fine and Voldemort is dead, for good this time!"

"He's dead, how?"

"I slit his throat last year." He replied with a shrug. "Since then a few others and I have been hunting down the last of his followers." The students around them gasped and began looking at Harry in fear but he wasn't paying them any attention.

"Really?" Sirius asked with a large grin on his face. "What about Pettigrew?"

"I caught up with him just this morning. Any wizards planning on following in the Death Eaters footsteps will be having nightmares of his magled body for years."

"How did you manage that?"

"It was decided that when we caught up with the members of Voldemort's inner circle that were left we would make a very public example of them."

"Gentlemen, as enlightening as this conversation is, Headmaster Riddle will be waiting!" Flitwick spoke up while looking back an forth between both men with extreme curiosity. Harry was right about to brush the man off when the name registered.

"Who is waiting?" He asked in a very dangerous voice.

"Headmaster Tom Riddle!"

End of part one! The second half will be out, um, whenever I write it.

Now that I finally got this out of my head, hopefully I'll be able to continue with my other fics without thinking about this one.

And as usual, please leave a review or send an e-mail letting me know what you thought, any suggestions or even just to tell me to piss off.