Hi everyone, this isn't my first fanifc, but I've put up and taken down fanfics for a while, this is one where I definitely want to continue.

I took the plot idea from DobbyElfLord, I haven't heard back from him if that's ok….oh well he can learn to live with it. His story "Altered Destiny" is probably my favorite story out there and I highly recommend it.

Please review it at the end, and if you do flame it, at least add a reason why. I can take constructive criticism.

"A man's true character comes out when he's drunk"

-Charlie Chaplin

A man sat in the dark of a run down, about to collapse building on the outskirts of a town that officially didn't exist. He had long, tangled, messy black hair that looked like it hadn't seen a shower in weeks. His skin was stained with dirt and other grime that had collected over the past month. He reached for a bottle on a table within arm's reach. His nails cracked and bitten he scratched the label off the bottle. A scrap with the words 'Ogden's Finest' fell to the ground. His arm shook as he brought the bottle to his lips.

"You're a hard man to track down." A man's voice echoed in the darkness. The bottle just barely on the sitting man's lips. The bottle shook as it sat there. He opened his eyes, revealing dead, green, eyes to the world. He took a swig of the drink, first burning his throat, then numbing his senses. "It's taken me almost a month and a half to find you. Catching odd rumors of you location here and there. Usually at liquor stores."

"What do you want?" The man replied both angrily and resignedly. He had gotten used to people coming up to him, asking for autographs, wanting to hear his story, and just general hero worship bullshit. He may have gotten used to it, but that didn't mean that he liked it.

"Do you not recognize me Mr. Potter?" the man asked as he walked towards the sitting man. "I thought that with all your visits to my establishment over the years that you would at least remember me somewhat." The man conjured a comfy leather chair and sat down in front of Mr. Potter. Mr. Potter looked up into the face of the man sitting in front of him.

"Abe." He grunted out.

"Oh, good you do recognize me, I was wondering if the alcohol had raddled your brain too much. Good that it hasn't."
"What do you want?" Mr. Potter repeated.

"To talk, perhaps offer some help. Create a resolution." Abe answered so unlike his older brother. He answered, almost, straight and to the point. His brother would beet around the bush until there wasn't anything more to say and someone would come out of a conversation with him realizing that they discussed absolutely nothing.

"Help, ha" Mr. Potter chucked at the notion. Taking another swig of fire-whiskey, "How could you possibly help me? How could you possibly help anyone who has lost everything and has no wish to reclaim what they lost? How do you wish to help someone who doesn't care anymore? It's impossible. Just go back to your life and forget about me. Everyone who has cared about me has left me in one way or another, what's one more? Hell I'm not even sure you cared anyway! Why would you?!" He broke down into drunken rage and laughter.

Abe looked on sadly at the man. "I've always cared Harry," He said remorsefully, "I've just never taken the chance to show it." He grabbed the bottle out of the young man's hands and through it out the open whole in the wall.

"Hey! I wasn't done with that!" Harry yelled angrily at losing his drink.

"Yeah you are, besides I need you sober for this. Here drink this." Abe said as he took out a flask hidden inside his jacket somewhere. Harry looked at the flask suspiciously. "Oh for the love of- If I was going to kill you Potter I would have already, drink, now." Harry took the flask and sniffed the top, realizing it was a potion of some kind he glanced back up to Abe. "Drink" the old man commanded. Harry did. And then promptly started coughing madly, trying to get the drink to stay down.

"What the hell was that?!" He nearly shouted at the old man.

Abe chuckled, "That, young man, was my own special form of sobering potion.

"Bloody poison that was!"

"Say what you want, it gets the job done." Abe said getting up "Now, get up, and come with me." He started walking away while Harry gave him the stink eye.

"Why? Where are we going to go?" He asks without getting out of his seat and once again reaching for the fire-whiskey bottle. "Sober isn't fun." He mumbled under his breath.

Before he took a sip of the hot liquid it was suddenly ripped from his hand. He sighed, looked at his old acquaintance and asked, once again, "What do you want?"

"For you to come with me, for you to fix all this, to set things right." Abe said sighing as he realized how stupid his words must have sounded. Harry let out a bark of laughter before fixing Abe with a glare.

"And how the hell to do think that is going to happen old man? Did you not hear me? Everyone I have ever cared about and everyone who has ever cared for me is DEAD. Now I'm no expert but from I have been told, repeatedly, is that you can't bring back the dead. It's simply not possible," Harry stated, emphasizing the 'not'.

"True, very true, trust me it has been tried. Failed every time. But alas that is not what I am talking about. I cannot speak of it here, we must get going, before it is too late. We only have one chance at this, and believe me it is the only chance. What we could accomplish would simply be amazing, but you need to come with me now. We would have longer had I not been chasing you across the country. Really I shouldn't be surprised that you ended up here."

"I've been attempting to avoid the public eye. They all want something, something that isn't who I really am. But that is neither here and now. What do you speak of? What could we possibly accomplish? Why do we have so little time?" Harry asked his question as he stood up, and looked longingly at the whole where his lost bottle had been thrown.

"Are you daft boy? I just said I can't talk about it here. Now common we must get going if we are going to do this without any resistance."

"Where are we going then? Can you tell me that?"

Abe sighed, "I suppose so. We need to go to the Department of Mysteries. We need to do something inside those damned halls. And what we do could, no, will change the future of the world."

Harry laughed, not being able to believe what he was hearing. "The Department of Mysteries? Are you stupid old man, the place was destroyed with the rest of the Ministry, the whole place collapsed! I WAS THERE! I saw it all happen. A couple thousand tons or earth, rock and concrete came down on the heads of a couple hundred ministry workers and politicians. All due to that fucker Voldemort." His voice got quieter and quieter towards the end of his little speech, memories flooding to the forefront of his mind. He shook his head a bit to clear it. "Even if the atrium was accessible, the department of mysteries is on the lowest floor. We'd have to dig through nine stories of…rubble." He said the last part shakily, memories once again coming t to the forefront of his mind.

"There is an apparition point set up within the department. The ninth floor was the most heavily warded because that's where the department was located. I won't lie to you and say that it's all as clean and…pristine as you remember it, but most areas are still accessible."

"Fine, whatever, I need to get out of here anyway to get more booze." Abe looked at Harry sadly before taking his hand and apparating away.

Please review I need to know how I do.