Harry Potter and the
Gift of the Magi
By G
Chapter 1 – St. Mungo's
The halls of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries were like any other hospital found throughout the world, the walls were of a neutral grey hue, the furniture was hard and uncomfortable, and the air smelled of disinfectant. There seemed to be nothing special about this hospital, except, this was a hospital for witches and wizards.
Most of the rooms were of typical hospital fashion, containing camp style beds neatly in rows of six, two chairs for every bed and were not easily distinguishable from one another, but as you continued to traverse the third story halls of this seemingly normal medical facility, the rooms became more elaborate. None more so than the very last room in the west wing of the third floor. It had been decorated with soft, overstuffed chairs and sofas, warm inviting wall colors of red and gold, and a large stone fireplace that was evidently well maintained. The sign on the front of the door read "Minister of Magic".
The room was filled with a large number of people with varying in age from 3 years, to an almost unrecognizable age. They were gathered around an extremely ancient looking man lying on a king sized hospital bed. He had long white hair and an even longer white beard, his skin was tanned and leathery and his eyes were a deep bottle green. It was obvious that the patient was nearing the end of his life, and he was being surrounded by friends and loved ones. All had sorrowful looks upon their faces and everyone was speaking in hushed tones.
The old man opened his eyes, to see the large number of people gathered around his bed. A smile seemed to be forming at the corner of his mouth, and those green eyes were sparkling. "Well, well. It seems the years must be catching up to me." He said in a rough, yet jovial tone.
"Granddad," exclaimed a woman obviously in her sixties or seventies. She wore bottle green robes, and a worn witch's hat. Her hair was red, and her eyes as green as the old man himself. "Don't talk like that. You're not that old." She continued, trying to sound hopeful.
The old man looked at her from behind half-moon spectacles that magically appeared on his face. "Lily, my sweet, my death should not be mourned, it should be celebrated. I've lived a long and fruitful life, now I just want to rest." He said with a smile.
His granddaughter stared at him through teary eyes. Her look told the old man everything he needed to know, he would be dead soon. "Why do you cry my dear, we all knew this day would come. Death is not an end, it's the next big adventure, as Albus would say. I want everyone to celebrate with me." The old man told his granddaughter, hoping to lift her spirits.
The woman wiped the tears from her eyes, tried desperately to compose herself, and smiled at her grandfather. "I'm sorry granddad; I'm just going to miss you terribly." She said walking over to a nearby relative.
"Look who came." She said, pulling over a man in his fifties, clad in blacker than black robes, and eyes that matched the other two. "It's Harry." She finished, pulling the man closer to the bed. The man sat down, and took the elder man's hand.
"It's good to see you sir." The younger man said, lightly stroking the old man's hand. The old man smiled at the younger man. It was a smile of remorse, there was tension between the two men, and all those gathered around could sense it.
"Harry, it's been too long, I've missed you." The elder man said, now sitting up for the first time.
"And I've missed you too, great-granddad." The younger man replied, trying to keep his voice even and the tension to a minimum.
"Harry, there's something I need to tell you," the elder man began, "I'm proud of you. I know I've never said it, but it's true. I was just not happy when you became an Auror, like me. I wanted so much more for you. You were the smartest of all the Potters, and I thought you'd be like your aunt Lily here, a healer." The old man explained.
Harry smiled at his great-grandfather, evidently longing to hear the words. "I love you, great-granddad. I was never really mad at you; I just wanted to be like you, to follow in the Potter tradition of battling evil." Harry said with a smile and tears in his eyes.
The elder just stared at his great-grandson. He wanted to tell the younger man all he had been feeling these past 30 years, but the words would not come. Instead, they embraced. The embrace lasted ten minutes before Lily broke them apart.
"All right, you two that's enough, let's give the old man some air." She said jokingly, as she pulled the two apart.
"Now, where is that blasted Dobby, he's never around when you need…" The old man stopped in mid statement, when a young man of about 40 entered the room. He was not wearing robes like the rest in the room, but instead wore a black overcoat, pants, shirt and shoes. He had equally tanned skin, brown hair and brown eyes. The young man had a hard look upon his face, but his eyes seemed to contradict his hard expression. The entire group turned to look at the new arrival.
"Leave us." The old man said with a bark, never taking his eyes off the new arrival. Without even a whimper of argument, the entire group walked passed the new arrival, and out onto the hospital hallway.
The young man waited until the door closed behind him before his features softened, and a huge smile spread across his face. He spoke as he approached the bed. "Well if it isn't the famous Harry Potter, 'the boy who lived', 'the chosen one'. The man who defeated Voldemort, Montague and Gresham, three of the most feared wizards of their day." He began with a hint of sarcasm as he sat on the elder man's bed. It was obvious that the man was not a native of the area, as his accent was undeniably American.
"Well if it isn't Michael, my old friend." Harry responded in similar sarcasm.
The two men stared at each other. "I've missed you these last fifty years." Michael said to Harry, taking his had in a friendly gesture.
"And I you, old friend, it has been entirely too long." Harry responded with his green eyes sparkling as he spoke to the younger man.
They exchange joyful looks for a few moments, when the young man's features began to harden again. "Why have you summoned me to this place, you know how I detest hospitals and despise death." There was a hint of anger in his voice.
"Don't be angry with me Michael, I needed to see you before I died. There is a favor I'd like to ask you." There was a pleading tone to Harry's voice.
Michael softened again. He ran his hand over the old man's forehead, revealing a lightning shaped scar. "It still amazes me every time I look at that scar. It has distinguished and defined you ever since you were a year old." A smile spread across his face again like a happy memory had jumped to mind. "A century ago I told you that if there was ever anything I could do for you that were in my power to grant, I would. To that end Harry, make your request."
Harry looked at his old friend, and a somber look took over this ancient face. "I want you to help Hermione and Ron. I want you to save them. I need you to save them!" Now Harry's tone was desperate.
Michael just looked at his old friend. Tears were forming in his eyes. "Harry, Hermione died a hundred and fifty three years ago, Ron died a hundred and two years ago, they are not around to save." His tone was remorseful. The thought of his old and dear friend loosing his mind seemed almost unbearable.
Harry straightened himself. "You stupid git, I know they're dead, I'm not senile." Harry spat at his old friend.
Michael got a confused look on his face. "Then I don't understand." He told Harry honestly.
Harry's could not look at his friend. "I remember what you told me eighty years ago, you said that you, on occasions, have traveled through time to observe past events. I want you to go back to my sixth year at Hogwarts, and teach me so I can keep Hermione safe. Then she won't die, and Ron won't go crazy." Harry began to cough heavily, and sank back into bead.
Michael was taken aback. "Harry, you can't be serious, I told you, I cannot change past events, I can only observe. If I interfere with even the smallest of events, I could erratically alter this timeline. Besides, if I interfere with Hermione's death, than you may not kill Riddle, ending his reign of terror." Michael said with his own pleading tone.
"I don't care!" Harry spat. "I want Hermione safe, I want her to live to be godmother to my children, I want Ron to be godfather to my children, and I want them alive!" Harry was openly crying now.
Michael couldn't bear to see his old friend in such pain. "Harry, have you really thought out the ramifications of your request. If I do anything to keep Hermione safe, then Ron won't go insane, you won't visit him in the hospital, you won't meet your wife, have children, grandchildren, great-grand children, you'll never become headmaster of Hogwarts. All will be different, and worst of all, the Harry Potter I knew, and came to love as a brother, will never have existed, a new Harry Potter will have emerged." Michael explained, still with his pleading voice.
Harry lowered his eyes. "I know old friend, but you can go back in time, show me the alternate timelines that you did a hundred years ago. That information gave me strength, knowledge, and wisdom. I know my past self could handle it, he has to…" Harry broke off, obviously recalling a painful memory.
Harry had a flash of past events…
He was in his sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It was the month of June, Voldemort was at the height of his terror, and Harry, Ron and Hermione were having a relatively uneventful year. Voldemort and his Death Eaters had limited their activities to areas outside of Hogwarts and Hogsmeade. The three students were preparing to take their end of year exams; they were studying by the lake on the side of the Forbidden Forrest. The Potions exam was easily the hardest of the year, and was approaching steadily.
It was a lovely Saturday afternoon in mid June; the air was warm and fragrant, the grass green and cool and the trees were buzzing with life. The three were laughing at the way Draco Malfoy had been embarrassed by Professor Flitwick in the dueling club the day before. "I can't believe Flitwick did that to Malfoy." Ron began. "He just picked him up and tossed him across the room."
Harry, trying to hold back a hearty laugh, turned to Ron. "Yeah well, the stupid prat shouldn't have called him that." They continued laughing for several minutes before they heard stirring behind them in the forbidden forest.
Turning around to see if anyone was behind them, Hermione said, "I don't know, but I don't like this, that forest is forbidden for a reason." The three stood facing the forest.
Harry turned to his two friends. "You guys go over to the right, I'll go left. Don't actually go in the forest, stay at its edge." The two did as they were told. Harry had turned towards Hagrid's hut to see if he was around, when suddenly Harry heard "STUPIFY", he turned back to his two friends and saw Ron laying on the ground, and Hermione being held by a tall man in a black cloak with the hood pulled down over his head.
The man began to speak in a familiar drawl. "Mr. Potter, we meet again." The hooded man said in a menacing tone.
"Malfoy, let her go!" Harry spat at him, holding his wand at the ready.
"On the contrary Mr. Potter, I not only plan on NOT letting her go, I plan on taking her with me." Malfoy said.
Harry's eyes were full of rage. He began to try to speak, but the cloaked man interrupted him. "My master needs to talk to you Potter; he is giving you an incentive to visit him." Malfoy's voice was calm and soft. "There is a port key on the floor next to your friend here, just touch it and you can be with your mudblood friend here almost instantly." Malfoy said.
"Harry, don't!" Hermione yelled as she disapparated with Malfoy.
Without thinking, Harry ran over to Ron, and looked around the floor for the port key. After only a moment of looking, Harry noticed a book on the floor, the moment he touched the book, he felt that all too familiar tug at the back of his navel, and vanished in an instant.
Harry hit the floor hard, his glasses askew, and his brain swimming. When he managed to straighten his glasses and get to his feet, he saw a most unwelcome sight, Voldemort was standing next to Lucius Malfoy, Malfoy was holding Hermione while keeping his wand pressed up against her head.
"Harry, how nice to see you again." Voldemort said in his usual hissing voice. "I'm so glad you could see me on such short notice." His words carried a hint of sarcasm as he spoke.
Harry just glared at him, he felt the anger rise to an uncontrollable level in the pit of his stomach. "Let her go." Harry spat at Voldemort. "This is between you and me."
Voldemort laughed at Harry's words. "Of course Harry, anything you want. I just needed an incentive to get you here quickly." Voldemort said in an amused tone.
Harry was looking around at his surroundings. It somehow felt familiar, almost like had been there before. Voldemort waved a long finger at Malfoy, who quickly released Hermione from his clutches. Hermione ran over to Harry, who hadn't moved since his arrival.
Harry turned to Hermione. "When I cast my spell, you run as fast as you can to that rock over on the right." Harry motioned to a large rock sticking out of the ground about 10 meters from their location.
Harry turned back to Voldemort. He knew he needed to do something, but what? He knew he was the captain of the dueling club, but with all his skill he was no match for Voldemort. Thinking quickly, he did the only thing he could think of, antagonize him, make him as angry as possible, hopefully that would be enough to force him to make a mistake.
"OK Tom, this is between you and me. We have to duel this out, one cannot live while the other survives, remember?" Harry asked in his own attempt at a menacing tone.
Voldemort's red eyes grew very wide. "How dare you use that muggle name? I am LORD VOLDEMORT, the most powerful sorcerer in the world!" Voldemort's voice carried throughout the immediate area.
Harry laughed. "The most powerful sorcerer in the world, you couldn't even defeat a one year old baby. Even Malfoy here is more powerful than you." Harry said in a clam and even voice.
"Please lord…" Malfoy began. "Let me kill him for you, he is not even worthy of your time. He's just a child." Malfoy pleaded.
Voldemort turned to his servant. "Very well Lucius, you may have him. But I caution you, he'd better be dead." The dark lord said.
Malfoy raised his wand, but Harry, being younger and faster, raised his wand first, and screamed. "AVADA KEDAVRA!" Harry had cast the killing curse at Malfoy.
A bright green beam of light shot out of Harry's wand right into Malfoy's chest, Hermione did not wait for Malfoy to fall, she turned immediately and ran for the rock where Harry had instructed her to go.
As Malfoy fell dead onto the floor, Voldemort was turning to see if the curse had hit his servant or not. Harry wasted no time. He knew he could not kill Voldemort with the killing curse, Voldemort was too strong, and so he did the only thing he could. "CRUCIO!"
Voldemort dropped immediately to his knees. The scream coming out of him was deafening. Harry held his wand on Voldemort while he used his shirt to pick up the port key. Harry knew if he touched it with his hand, he would instantly be transported back to Hogwarts.
While keeping the wand steady, he slowly walked over to the rock where Hermione was hiding. She screamed when she saw Harry, and then quickly contained herself.
"Harry, you're alive!" She said, still horrified.
Harry had no time for small talk. "Quick Hermione, touch my arm and the port key. Let's get out…" Harry never had a chance to finish his sentence.
STUPIFY was the last thing Harry heard as he fell down to the floor. A silver handed wizard was emerging out from his hiding spot, and hit Harry with the spell. Hermione grabbed Harry's hand, and while reaching for the book heard, AVADA KEDARVA and landed on the port key.
Harry opened his eyes back at the edge of the lake at Hogwarts. It took a moment for Harry to regain his senses. He looked to his left and saw Ron lying unconscious on the ground. But when he looked to his right, he saw Hermione, dead. "NOOOOOOOOO!"
Harry found himself immediately back to the present.
Michael seamed to be pondering his idea. "If I go back, and if I help you, you do realize you're signing my death sentence. I could never come back, and I could never stay there." Michael said in a somber voice.
Harry again lowered his eyes. "Yes Michael, the thought did occur to me. You have been my best friend for over a hundred years, and I'm asking you to all but kill yourself to save my friends, to save me. I know what I'm doing is wrong, but what choice do I have. I may have lived a long life, my family may be large and loving, but there is this huge hole in my heart where Ron and Hermione should have been. I NEED you to do this for me! I can't die knowing there is something that I, that you, can do to help. Help me Michael, help me." Harry pleaded again.
Michael sat there staring into the deep green eyes of his old friend. A smile started to develop on his face, as if realizing something for the first time. "Ok Harry, I'll do what you ask. I'll go back to your sixth year, and I'll show you the timelines, and hopefully everything will work itself out." Michael said, standing to go.
"Good bye old friend, I shall never see you again." Michael turned and left the hospital room before Harry could even give his thanks. Michael walked purposefully through the corridors of St. Mungo's straight past the crowd that had been in Harry's room towards the exit, and vanished.
Michael began to pack his essentials. Many books had been written on the subject of the Magi, but almost all were inaccurate, and written as fairy tales. He knew his order would be in an uproar, but he also had no choice, he and Harry were friends. He finished packing his trunk, took a deep breath, and waved his right hand at the air in front of him. Immediately the view in front of him began to swirl. It was almost like watching an inverted waterspout from above. He picked up his trunk, and walked straight into the disturbance.
He emerged just inside the forbidden forest next to Hogwarts. He took another deep breath, but this time to take in the fragrance, and raised his right hand again, but this time a red eagle shot out of his hand and proceeded west. A smile seemed to creep onto his mouth as he turned to face the castle, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He began the short walk to the front of the castle.
He knocked on the front door of the castle and waited, he knew someone would answer, and someone did. "What do you want?" An old man answered with an annoyed tone.
"Yes, I'd like to speak to the headmaster please." Michael's remained pleasant despite the other man's annoyance.
"Wait here." He spat, motioning to the entrance hall of the castle.
Michael did not have to wait long. Moments later a tall elderly man, with long white hair and beard, and half moon spectacles walked down the stairs, it was Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster.
Dumbledore surveyed Michael for only just a moment, before his eyes started to sparkle, and gave him a huge smile. "Michael my old friend, how wonderful to see you again." Dumbledore said at last.
Michael smiled back at the elder gentleman, and embraced him as a brother. "Albus, it has been entirely too long." Michael held the embrace for a few moments before he let go and began to speak. "Albus, something urgent has come up, may I need to speak with you?" Michael asked hurriedly.
Albus just smiled. "You have an American accent now." Dumbledore said remaining calm despite the other's impatience.
Michael smiled. "Yeah well, so many years in a particular country will do that to you." Michael responded, now calming down.
Albus smiled again, and motioned for Michael to follow. "How about we talk in my office?" Dumbledore said.
Michael just nodded, and followed the headmaster to his office. They walked up to the hallway leading to the gargoyle that guarded the stairway leading to the Headmaster's office. Dumbledore gave the password, and the gargoyle moved to reveal the rising circular, stone staircase. Dumbledore lead Michael into the office.
Dumbledore's office was very inviting; the paintings of the former headmasters were sleeping in their frames. Dumbledore sat behind his desk, and motioned to a chair directly across from him. "Sit, old friend." He said, and Michael obliged.
Dumbledore opened the conversation. "Why haven't you come to see me in all these years? And come to that, why are you here now?" He asked pleasantly.
Michael did not know where to begin, so he decided to tell the headmaster everything. "Albus, I'm here at the request of a mutual friend. This friend needs me to show certain things to one of your students." Michael explained vaguely.
Dumbledore just continued to gaze at his old friend without speaking.
"The student has to be able to use this information to take the lives of some and save the lives of others." Michael said.
Dumbledore just smiled at his old friend. "Harry Potter I presume." He said knowingly.
Now it was Michael's turn to smile. "Don't miss a trick, do you Albus?" Michael said with a laugh.
"What do you need to show Harry?" Dumbledore asked, with a worried tone.
"The same type of thing I showed you all those years ago." Michael answered cryptically.
Dumbledore wore a worried expression but continued to survey his old friend, trying to gauge what he was doing. "Who asked you to come here?" Dumbledore asked instead.
Michael squirmed slightly, obviously not wanting to answer. "Harry did." Michael said without looking at Dumbledore.
"How many years in the future are you from?" Dumbledore asked with a sly, knowing grin.
Michael returned the smile. "Albus always knew too much for his own good." Michael thought to himself.
"One hundred and fifty four years." Michael answered finally. Dumbledore just nodded.
"Can you tell me what you will be showing Harry?" Dumbledore asked with even greater concern in his voice.
"I'm sorry Albus; I cannot alter present events any more than I have to. Suffice it to say, Harry will be in better shape to face Riddle and his Death Eaters." Michael begrudgingly answered.
"The students have gone home on summer holiday. You'll have to go see Harry at his aunt and uncle's house." Dumbledore stated. It was obvious he was not thrilled with the idea of what Michael had in mind.
"I know that Albus. I timed my arrival perfectly, if I do say so myself. Today, I presume, is the first day of summer holiday, so when I go see Harry tomorrow, we'll have almost the entire summer together. In case he has questions, which I'm sure he will." Michael explained.
"As did I." Dumbledore interrupted.
"As did you, now, the reason why I'm here, I need you to owl him an introduction so he won't be concerned when I approach him tomorrow." Michael seemed certain of Dumbledore's assistance.
"Very well, Michael. I will do as you ask. But I must voice my concern. Harry is young, if he is allowed too much knowledge in a short amount of time, he may…" Dumbledore paused to look for the right words. "He may be tempted to overindulge in certain situations." Dumbledore had obviously chosen his words carefully because Michael was nodding.
"Trust me Albus, the first life I'll show him will give him wisdom and strength of character, the second life I show him, will give him the knowledge and power he will need to defeat Riddle. He will be as wise as he is powerful, I guarantee it." Michael reassured him.
"Very well, Michael. Go to Harry, by the time you arrive there tomorrow, he'll be expecting you." Dumbledore conceded.
With that, Michael had bid Dumbledore fond farewell, and strode out of the office.
Dumbledore quickly wrote on a piece of parchment, addressed it to Harry, and gave it to Fawkes, Dumbledore's phoenix. The bird vanished with the note in his clutches.
Dumbledore sat in his office considering what had just happened. Harry himself, had sent Michael back in time. Dumbledore knew this was no small feat. "Why?" He thought to himself. "Harry must have defeated Voldemort if he had befriended Michael. Then Why?" He thought again.