The smell of rain and thunder reached the man's nose even though it was a bright and sunny day. Albus Dumbledore had a sense of Deja Vu as he walked past Privet Drive, his robes billowing. Even so, he felt something was wrong. His radar detected that, and his radar had never proved him wrong. Harry Potter was a wizard, supposed to be, anyways - and yet, in this year's students list, his name was not listed. The old wizard stopped in the neatest, coziest, and biggest house.

Number 4, Privet Drive

Dumbledore smiled. He knocked on the wooden door and clutched his long, silver beard which seems to beam. A few seconds later, the door opened, and a tall, blonde and horse-toothed woman came out. She sported a beautiful nightgown which didn't reveal much of her body. Petunia Dursley - Dumbledore had met her once when visiting the Evans home. She certainly has changed.

"You," Petunia said, her tone rising. She sputtered out random nonsense, not knowing what to say. In truth, he wanted to slap the man for his unDursleyishness and punch him for bringing the Potter boy to live with them.

"Me," Dumbledore replied calmly. He could feel something was wrong. The cold tone emitting from Petunia's mouth, and the tension growing inside the house. Inside it, powerful magic radiated - the strongest Albus had ever felt! Even Tom's magic wasn't this powerful... "Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. We have met before, I believe?"

The man stuck his hand out, but Petunia stayed frigid. She froze in place, not knowing what to say or do. Dumbledore sighed. "I need to see Mr. Potter."

"He's not a wizard!" Petunia suddenly snapped. Her face turned bright red as it turned pale, as everything she ever wanted to say erupted from her mouth. "He's not one of your lots, and he will never, ever be! I won't let your freakishness enter my home!"

That all stopped when Dumbledore pulled out his wand. The woman stumbled back. "Please - please, I don't - I don't mean - the boys are at school-"

The old man radiated an aura of danger and power as he entered the home. He rarely used this tactic, but it was highly necessary at the moment. His expression was calm but cold, persuasive but subtle. "I know Harry is here," he stated. "And I would like to see him."

Petunia let out a squeak and pointed down the hallway. Dumbledore turned, and Petunia used this chance to run up to the second bedroom, where Dudley ought to be playing with his toys. His eyes scanned the hallway and out of the corner of his eye, saw a little, scrawny boy scramble towards a cupboard. Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. The boy was small, with messy black hair and pale figure.

"Harry?" Dumbledore called out. "Harry."

He reached the cupboard, ducked, and opened it. The young boy was sitting - shivering, on top of an unmade bed which covered the whole cupboard. Toys littered the bed, and spiders crawled the uncolored walls. The only light was a small, yellow ball of light hanging from the ceiling. Harry inched further, his whole body shaking and pale.

"Harry. I'm Professor Dumbledore."

"I'm not mad!" the boy suddenly screamed. "I'm not mentally ill - I'm not a lunatic! Please!"

Dumbledore had another sense of deja vu. He had a similar conversation decades back when he met young Tom Riddle, living in an orphanage. "No, Harry, you are not crazy. You are unique - powerful. You can do magic."

His face grew dark. A dark, misty figure came out of Harry's hand - it was a stag, lashing at Dumbledore. But Dumbledore didn't flinch. He stayed in place, wondering curiously at the attacking stag. It eventually dispersed, and Harry cried against the wall.

"Harry, I can do magic, just like you," Dumbledore said lightly. "You are special, Harry. You're a wizard."

This time, Harry sobbed louder. The walls covered the wailing cries, and the spiders casually crawled into Harry's hair. Harry looked away, sniffed, and let the spiders crawl into his hand. "I know. They told me."

"Your aunt and uncle?"

Harry shook his head and pointed towards it. "The voices. The deep sounds. They're evil - they're mean! They want me to do mean things!"

This time, Dumbledore was alarmed. The shivering boy, the inability to be listed in Hogwarts, the power radiating, the voices - could it be? "Describe."

"NO!" Harry's voice turned deep and hoarse, and his face turned dark. Dark fog filled the room, surrounding the boy, before dispersing to reveal Harry - but taller, more athletic, more handsome - and more mysterious. Dumbledore was instantly reminded of Tom Riddle.

Harry's eyes were still green, yes, but it could barely be seen - it was like he had no pupils. "Dumbledore..." he whispered in another hoarse voice. He was lifted up, and a fireball surrounded both his hands. Calmly, Dumbledore flickered his wand, and a phoenix Patronus erupted from it, surrounding Harry. The fire disappeared, and Harry dropped towards his small bed. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Petunia slowly ascending downstairs. Dumbledore flicked his wand once more, and Petunia came rushing up.

"Harry," Dumbledore said, more softly this time, to the newly tall boy. "That was magic. I could help you with the voices."

All the boy could do was shiver and nod. A flicker of fear was visible in his pale eyes, as his sweat and tears soaked the bedcover. "I will come back tomorrow morning." he then scanned the room. "You live here?"

Harry nodded.

"Pack your things - all of them. I will return tomorrow morning."

And after bidding goodbye to the family, Dumbledore apparated towards his office at Hogwarts, where he instantly took Floo powder and threw them into the fireplace. "Newt Scamander."

After three seconds, a cheerful face appeared. Newt Scamander's hair was pale red, almost gray, and his face was starting to wrinkle. He wore a Bow to Bowtruckles! Brown hat and a thin cloak. After seeing Dumbledore's face, he stopped smiling.

"Newt, I need you in my office, right now."

"Albus - anything wrong?"

"Bring Ms. Goldstein with you. I want the two of you here. This is URGENT."

Albus Dumbledore sat in the red and gold chair, trying so hard to maintain a perfect posture, his face turned green. Newt Scamander and Tina Goldstein noted this. While Newt was only starting to get gray hair, Tina's hair was almost white. Her brown eyes revealed fatigue, stress, and sleepiness.

"You two have an experience with Obscurials, correct?"

"Now-"

Dumbledore decided to drop the bomb on them. Better now than never. "Harry Potter is an Obscurial."

Tina Goldstein sat, processing the new information while thinking of the possibilities if the statement was true. Newt Scamander wondered whether his old friend and Professor had gone incredibly mad.

"Harry Potter - by Harry Potter, you mean, the boy who lived?" Tina asked, her voice now high pitched and shook.

Albus Dumbledore nodded grimly, and ultimately betrayed his perfect pose. He slumped into his chair tiredly, suddenly looking thirty years older. His wrinkles started to show, and his eyes lost the twinkles that once inhabited it.

"But Albus, how-"

"He was abused by his family. Forgive me; I am an old man. I left him with his aunt and uncle, hoping they would give him care; Alas, they hated magic," the professor stopped, a lump forming in his throat. "I believe he hid his magic away, and the Obscurial grew."

Newt and Tina sat their mouths agape. Dumbledore sighed in frustration, bowing his head. The hero of the Wizarding World, the key to ending the upcoming war - if this problem is not solved right now, the world would indeed end. The problem was, he knew next to nothing about Obscurials, other than the times in which he read about them.

"I am sure the two of you has some experience with Obscurials," Dumbledore muttered. "I need your help. Britain needs your help."

Albus Dumbledore let out his deepest and darkest secrets, the key to defeating Voldemort. How he thought a piece of Voldemort's soul is imbedded in Harry's head, how Harry is the Chosen One - and as Dumbledore revealed this new piece of information, he grew warier and felt as useless as ever. By the end of his explanation, Tina was in tears, and Newt struggled to say anything.

"The piece of Voldemort's soul... if what you thought was true," Newt started quietly. "Then it has been aiding the Obscurial, while at the same time, aiding the boy's soul. The boy is eleven, correct? Obscurials above the age of eleven are exceedingly rare; only a few has been recorded to."

"Curing an older Obscurial might prove to be impossible," Tina said under her breath. "With a piece of the Dark Lord's soul inside him, I don't know - it's impossible - nothing can help."

"We can help," Newt said in a higher tone. Dumbledore and Tina stared at him, waiting for his answer, and Newt turned red, noticing he had blurted out. "Tina, remember the expedition where we saved two Obscurials in Peru?"

Albus's ears perked up as he leaned in to listen to the story. "Elaborate."

"They were girls - little girls," Newt started. Tina turned pale just remembering it, and Pick, Pickett's son, chirped in misery. The little bowtruckle were eavesdropping inside his owner's pocket. "They were otherwise kind, but you know how the magical community is in Peru. Magic is strong there; no-majs - muggles, are becoming more suspicious. There is a seventy percent chance the muggle community will find out about the magical community by the end of the year."

Dumbledore was alarmed. He's heard about the condition there in Peru but didn't think much of it, but then he remembered Tom - his sly and cunning nature. He would certainly take advantage of this. An Obscurial growing in that area would be bound to happen at some point.

"The girls both live in an area where full of Muggles who loathe magic. They are forced to suppress their magic; you know what this means, Albus. Their magic would eventually turn dark, and so it did, growing the Obscurial within everyone's soul.

"This was how our book 'The Obscurial Within' was created. Inspired by Credence," Newt stopped for a second, his mind spinning with memories. Tears trickled down Tina's face, reminding her of the event which happened decades ago. Dumbledore stayed silent, observing the scene in front of him. "We decided to find out more about Obscurials. They aren't exactly - and are not, magical creatures, or beasts. They are, as we found-"

"A piece of one's soul?" Dumbledore interrupted. "Something alarmed me from the research stated in your book. While your theory of it being a piece of one's soul-"

"Not entirely," Tina intersected. "It is essentially a part of one's magical soul, a dark one. We have found that everyone has a piece of that inside of them - or as we call the Pre-Obscurial. It will not affect most wizards, but growing up in an environment like these two girls did, and Mr. Potter-"

"The Obscurial will grow," Dumbledore concluded, nodding. But this piece of information seemed familiar. How it has to do with a certain dark lord-

The man lifted a finger and went up towards his personal library, all the while chatting with his two friends. "And you do know, perhaps, of the cure to this Obscurial?" Dumbledore asked loudly, frantically searching for a thick book in his storage.

Newt and Tina had shared a glance before Newt decided to speak up. "I do think you know the answer to that," Tina said, half-amused and half-sad.

Dumbledore turned, bringing some sort of thick book with him, and settled down on his usual seat, putting the book down on the oak table. "Love," Newt added. "Love is the only cure we know for Obscurials. The Patronus charm works, but for short-term only."

While Dumbledore wanted to discuss this further, he had an equally important matter to discuss. He trailed to the title of the book. "Horcruxes," he stated.

Both Tina and Newt turned pale. "Since I learned of the Potter's death, I've suspected - but your evidence about Obscurials-" Dumbledore said. "You do know, perhaps, that a Horcrux is a piece of one's soul? A piece of dark magic? It is stated that the only way one could form a Horcrux is by murder. Harry Potter was almost killed, was it not for his mother's sacrifice. The killing curse made contact with his body, but it bounced off the boy, killing Tom Riddle instead."

"You're not telling me that a Horcrux is living inside the boy? The soul of the Dark Lord living inside him is a Horcrux?" asked Tina.

"That is my theory. That is not to say, however, that Mr. Potter is the only Horcrux that Tom Riddle has or will ever make," the old man stated. The couple in front of him thought about this - the connection between Horcruxes and Obscurials just found

"That is what has triggered the Obscurial to grow at a fast rate; it must have been protecting it, too," Newt theorized. "And combined with a Horcrux, and the killing curse..."

The trio needn't speak more. Countless theories and facts spun around their mind as the only sound heard was Pick's chirping and clicking.