"What is it between you and Dumbledore, Dad?" Liz asked, her eyes sparkling

"Forgive me, I cannot tell you." Again, Drake dismissed the question.

Harry couldn't help but notice that his father hadn't dismissed the entire question "But, there is something between the two of you."

The old man 'mouth drew a forced smile "Yes."

Liz and Harry exchanged glances. Yes their father was keeping secrets, but at least it wasn't a secret that he was keeping secrets; both children rolled their eyes at the same time.

"Harry", Drake was leaning on the door that led to his bedroom, his usual aura of calm was all but gone. "Forgive me if I assumed too much by saving your life, but, in my defence, it was the only safe way to do it. I never intended for you to turn into... well, something like me."

The-Boy-Who-Lived-Twice sighed, he knew he was being selfish and stubborn, and that it was hurting the only parent he had ever truly known, but somehow he still felt betrayed.

"I know you didn't... I know, okay?" Harry sighed again; he was trying very hard not to lash out at his father "I... I'm just very mad at the moment. It's- It's not about you. It's the whole situation, you know? Even in my last lifetime, I felt as if fate, or god, or whoever and whatever thing controls our life... I felt as if it was having a field trip with me, making me some sort of science project, a lab rat or guinea pig, and see how much I could take. Apparently it wasn't enough for my parents to be killed and me sent to the Dursleys inferno; or having a madman after my blood every single year; or having to save a whole bunch of hypocrites from said madman, just because it was 'The right thing to do' and 'The greater good'. I'm tired of being manipulated and shoved everywhere by this stupid prophecy." He stood, raising his voice, releasing all of the anger and frustration he had had to put up with all of his life "I'm tired of being crucified one year and then idolized the next, while at the same time being treated as a mere wand. I want to be my own man for once, I want to be rid of everyone's manipulations, I want to have and dictate my own life, do things my way. Why can't fate just leave me alone? Why can't I be just another one of the flock? Why can't I be just Harry?" Harry hadn't known he was crying until Drake gave him a hug and he instinctively hid his face in his father's chest.

He was crying: finally allowing himself to mourn all those who had died in the last lifetime; His parents, Cedric, Sirius, Ginny, Luna, Hermione... Him.

"Why does fate hate me so?" he asked, desperately, letting more tears flow and stain his father's otherwise pristine white shirt.

Drake held his tongue before saying that it wasn't so. He, of all people should know that fate was a bitch, but he also knew that God, or at least his god wasn't mean just because. All of his suffering and pain had been for something; he was being prepared for something that would normally destroy just about everyone, but not him. Not after losing his child to innocence and his family to negligence; not after sacrificing his life first for the hypocrites that were his people and a second time to save the life of a child that was so much like himself that he felt as if he was actually saving himself.

Fate was a bitch, yes, but a bitch with a higher purpose.

Damn her.

The man looked up to dark skies through the windows.

"If you are still there, Ba'al father of mine. Please grant us time, grant us peace to heal. You know better than anyone that we need it."

And for a moment, there, he thought that Ba'al presence was back with him, but the moment was gone in a blink of an eye.

Finally Harry's curses and tears dried up ad he took a step back from his parent's embrace. "Sorry. Didn't mean to blow up at you."

Drake's true smile returned, albeit a little sad. "Do not worry son. I know exactly what you mean."

Harry looked up at his father and found his golden eyes hiding a pain much like his own. Drake noticed that his mask had fallen when he took in his son's astounded face

"Come here; let me tell you a story."

They sat together on his bed and stared at the starry sky "Long before the man even walked on two legs or discovered magic, many, many millennia ago, this world had a brother. Another planet just as green and full of life. It was that world that an ancient god chose to give to its children. Their given name was Ba'alians, so strong and brave and honourable they were that the god granted them powers over nature, powers that no other being had."

"They were wizards?" Harry asked, and his father smiled

"Yes and no. You could probably call them elementals. One from every 100 Ba'alians would be an elemental, and would be able to control an aspect of the natural forces of change."

"Natural forces of change? What are those?"

"They are temperature, climate, water currents, vibration, time and spark or light."

"Not very elemental, are they?" Harry asked with a demure smile.

"Yes, I suppose you could say that. Anyhow, let's continue" The man looked down at his son, and seeing him nodding he continued "The other two races were, somewhat, descendant to the Ba'alians. The first were the Feral, half human, half animal; they lived in tribes that had a very antique organization, much like the animals they were born of."

"Whoa, hold it there. You said that the Ferals were born of the Ba'alians, but at the same time of animals?" the kid frowned, turning slightly green.

"Barbaric, I know. But apparently someone found it rather amusing." Drake frown eased as he continued "They were noble and very brave, however, the Ba'alians... well most of them, bar those with elemental powers, treated them like slaves."

"Why the difference?"

"Beliefs mostly. The Prodigies – that was the name those with power gave themselves – thought that the Ferals deserved at least as much respect as any Ba'alian, because they shared the same lineage."

"Much like what happens with muggles- I mean Norms, and Wizards."

"Pretty much, yes." Drake smiled down at Harry "you couldn't help but compare, couldn't you?"

Harry winced, he knew it wouldn't do any good to compare, but still... old habits die hard. "Sorry."

"Never you mind. The third race was also a 'descendant' of sort, from the Ba'alians. They were called Khulblaka, or Demons" The man waited for Harry to say something; when the boy didn't, he continued "Demons would be created any time that a Prodigy was consumed by his or her power, either at an early age – when they didn't receive proper instruction to control their powers – or later in life if they were tempted by the 'seduction' of the power and/or one of the Khulblaka. Much like a Vampire. And so that you know, Vampires are some of the descendants of the Khulblaka."

Curious, Harry asked "How could that be, if the Ba'alians and Khulblaka lived in another World?"

"That, Harry, is the very intent of this tale, how it all came to be. But first I need you to understand more about the Ba'alians."

"Ok"

"Now then, where were we? Ah yes, the Khulblaka. Well, apparently after some millions of years of history, the Ba'alians grew arrogant, and the Khulblaka more cunning. Incited by these demons, a war begun between two of the three kingdoms that existed in the brother world of Hellion; the arrogance of one of the kingdoms provoked the eruption of a grand war that lasted for a couple of hundred years; 800, I believe, but I could be wrong.

"Anyway, the war raged on and little by little the beautiful world of Hellion began dying. It was by then that a boy was born to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders."

"I feel sorry for him already and I barely know him." Harry grimaced, somehow knowing that he was about to hear something not unlike his story "You don't think he and I are the same right? I mean, I'm not him reborn, am I."

Drake frowned. "No, Harry, I'm sure you're not Him."

Harry sighed "You got me afraid for a moment."

"Sorry about that." The man dismissed the comment and continued "This boy was unlike all others. He was a prodigy far stronger than most and would have become a good man had the enemy not known of his existence and his relatively secret relation to the king of the country. He was, as fate would have it, a distant cousin, but one that would have claim to the throne, should the current king not produce any heirs.

"The kid, however, knew nothing of this. And if he had, he certainly wouldn't care. He lived the first years of his life in absolute happiness with both his parents and his baby sister, who he loved dearly. But then the enemy came and they tortured and killed his parents in front of him, and very nearly killed his sister if he hadn't used his powers.

"He didn't know how he did it, but suddenly he could control temperature and all but one of the fiends burst up in flames. The boy took his sister in his arms before passing out from exhaustion. Because, like magic, the powers of a prodigy consumed their energy, and worse when they don't know how to control it." The man stretched his back "With me still?"

Harry nodded, he didn't know how or why Drake knew so much, but he story was entertaining.

"Good. Well, both kids were taken to a concentration camp where other children from different cities were taken – or kidnapped – to work for the kingdom. From then the life of the boy became constant fear and pain; he had killed the men that had tried to kill his sister, and this fact wasn't appreciated by their companions. He was beaten within an inch of his life every other day; but still he refused to give in, to plea for it to stop, or even to moan, because he knew that if he broke then his sister would get his fate too, and that he couldn't take.

"After a year of this treatment he was worse than bitter and cursing the world for his life – much like the way you do now – but still he wouldn't yield, not give any quarter to his attackers. The boy never saw any of the other children, so why did he believe that his sister was alive, he didn't know, yet he felt that it was so. One day, the fiends caught another group of children, where one kid specially, – another prodigy – had given them hell before she was captured.

"Curious how fate works, because this girl was jailed with the boy, and each found a small amount of relief and comfort in each other. Fortunately the girl wasn't to be kept form the grounds where all the other children stayed. This small mistake was the one that led the children to escape later on. Because the Boy and the Girl would use their time together to plan an escape and while the girl worked on the fields she let on those plans to the rest of the children.

"Finally after almost a month of planning, they executed their plan and escaped along with all the other children." A cloud darkened Drake's face "That was when the boy found out about his own demons. You see, for all the damage the men had done to him, he had turned so cold that he could kill them without feeling anything, nor mercy, nor disgust, but perhaps a little happiness.

"The boy fled with his sister, after saying goodbye to his new friend, whom he called 'blackie'" Drake chuckled along with his son

"Together, the boy and his sister, returned on their own country, where the king was preparing an attack to rescue him... or so he said, at least, because I doubt he would have done it. Anyway, the two siblings were taken under the wings of the king, who became their tutor. The boy was sent to a teacher for prodigies... the last of their kind in that country, since all others had died in the war. The boy studied diligently for almost four years, until his master died of old age, and he was left alone to bear the weight of his fame and, as he promised his master in his deathbed, to end the war, no matter the cost.

"And that he did. The boy returned to the kingdom and to his sister, who by now barely recognized him. He was taken in like a great hero, like 'the chosen one to end the war'." Drake glanced down at Harry "Sounds familiar?"

Harry nodded, not really trusting his voice. The story was a true drama, and he doubted it was over.

"The king gave him an armour, pointed to where the enemies where, and then let the boy loose. As he marched to battle, all he remembered was the look of worry in the eyes of her sister.

"He found the enemy in a town close to the capital of the kingdom, killing the men, raping the women and taking the children for the labour camps. One look at the battle field was all he needed to set loose the rage and the pain that existed within him... It was a massacre. Alone, he killed the invading troops all the way to the coast. Almost 2000 dead. And yet he still felt nothing but rage.

"He reported back to the kingdom, and the whole country rejoiced because they had a kid that could actually end the war by himself. Another year passed until their country was finally free from the invaders, and the few that remained fled back to their country licking their wounds." Drake's eyes glowed with power as he retold the story of ancient past "It was briefly after this victory that the boy began having visions and weird dreams that turned almost prophetic. Looking for the reason for this he followed the visions to an old volcano, where he met one of the Ancients."

"What ancients?" Drake was momentarily startled by Harry's voice, but then remembered that he had omitted that part

"Sorry about that, I forgot to tell you about them. The Ancients were huge dragons that had, together with their God, sired the Ba'alians. There were three of them, Sera, the Ruby Dragon; Faris, the Onyx Dragon; and finally Gaela, the Golden Dragon. They all were immortal, they never aged nor got sick, nor was there any weapon that could harm them. And yes, they too carried the same powers as the prodigies, some, but not all of them at the same time. For example Sera could control the Spark and temperature, and actually breathe Fire that would melt anything. Faris controlled Time and Climate, making her one of the most dangerous Ancients; And Gaela was able to control vibration and water currents... As it was, the boy met Sera at the top of the Volcano, and she spoke to him. 'My son' she said in her most motherly and regal tone 'I'm forever sorry to burden your soul as fate has chosen to, but I fear it is necessary. Our world it's at its end, there's no more time in our Hourglass, and yet our Lord Ba'al won't abandon us. A time will come when you will need the Ancient's strength and wisdom, a time where we all will die or be reborn. But you, my son, I must ask to stay alive. To remember everything that we were and carry that knowledge to the next generations. To walk the way of the wise and discover their secrets, that will be yours to carry onto the next world. Be brave my son, for you will receive the visit of your other mothers as I have, and they will give you the presents and powers that are ours alone; as only you could carry. Thank you my son, and please remember that even in the worst of the pits of Hell, I am still your mother, and I still love you, even if nobody else does. Farewell, my son, carry the burden of our Lord with pride and Honour and you shall be well compensated before the end.' The dragon dissipated in a bright red light that scorched the boy's armour and disintegrated his robes; yet he felt as if the giant burden on his shoulder and hearth had been lifted. He felt more powerful and young than ever... and that was barely the beginning of it. He also found another surprise as he turned to leave. Blackie, his childhood friend stood behind him, with one of her brothers at her side. The reunion wasn't all happy tears and joy; both his childhood friends were there on a mission, to bring him to their leader, so that they could discuss an alliance against the evil Kingdom whose arrogance had claimed the life of millions of people.

"The alliance was signed and the Kingdom followed the not-so-young-boy into the battle field all over again. Only that now he commanded and entire army of men who thought the world of him."

Harry looked up to his dad, and found him weeping, but instead of asking, he let the man carry on.

"In the midst of battle, the boy became a man... a sour man with nothing but his mission to think about, and the hope that maybe if he fought hard enough, he would be able to finally get some rest, for he hadn't slept in many days. He did receive the visit of the other two Ancients, later on, who carried messages, equal to the one of Sera, urging him to live to tell the tale. To whom, he idly wondered, but never got an answer.

"The final battle came, and the boy did his very best... and along with the army, and the most ancient of the Khulblakas, that had allied with him earlier on, together then, they destroyed their enemy's kingdom, leaving the bodies of the defeated to rot under the sun.

"He thought that he would finally get his rest, but it was not meant to be; the war had ended, indeed, but their world had too... they wouldn't survive much longer it they didn't receive help, so their embarked themselves back to the land where everything had started, and there, in the last green garden of the world, they knelt and prayed. They prayed with their hearts full of sorrow and regret, they prayed with hope, they prayed for a second chance. Many of the ones that had survived the war and the trip back through the flaming wastelands, died while still praying, until only a small bunch, barely a hundred, were left. They were sick, they were tired, and there was very little air to breath anymore.

"Everything was coming to an end, and they knew it, knew that they had brought such horrid end to themselves, that in their arrogance and greed they had destroyed their only home.

"The survivors from the other races had joined the Ba'alians, and thus were present on the third day since the prayer had begun. They too bore witness of the miracle that was their God, who came to them as a breeze of fresh air in hell. He wasn't pleased, and he let them knew that; but for all their faith, and for all the love he had for his children, he gave them a new chance at life.

"'I will send you to another world' he said 'to learn the ill of your ways. But know that this is only borrowed time. In this world, there is another race that will conquer and populate the world. They are not you. And you are not to interfere with their destiny; you will live in the shadows until I deem you forgiven. But heed this, if but one of them is ever killed by your actions, you shall all be brought back to this hell you have created.' After those words, he placed his hands, one over the head of the boy-now-man, and one over the womb of the Queen of the kingdom and added 'Faith be given by those who offer their lives freely. Rise and thrive, my children, I will not abandon those who had served me well.'

"As it disappeared in a powerful light, a stone archway appeared where Lord Ba'al's feet had once been, words written over it:

"Through me you pass into the city of woe,

Through me you pass into eternal pain,

Through me walk the people lost for aye.

Justice the founder of my fabric moved,

To rear me was the task of Power divine,

Supremest Wisdom, and primeval Love,

All hope abandon, ye who enter here."

Harry couldn't help himself any more "Isn't that-?"

"The words Dante said were written on the door to Hell? Yes."