"So let me get this straight. We are going to be reborn as five year olds in 1985, go to Hogwarts at the age of six because we accidently-on-purpose got lost in London and stumbled across the Leaky Cauldron, and make Dumbledore's life a living hell." Grindelwald summed up. Tom crossed his arms, face unreadable. Gellert didn't even let Harry say anything before he said, "Count me in."

Tom hesitated, but did say, "Me too." Then he frowned and said, "I guess there is no point trying to kill you and rule the world again, is there? Dammit."

Harry nodded curtly before turning to Death and asking, "Could you take us back now?"

King's Cross vanished in the blink of an eye.

"Up! Get up! Now!"

Harry winced. He'd forgotten how shrill her voice was. "Coming Aunt Petunia!" he called back. He looked around half expecting Tom or Gellert to be there, but immediately chastised himself. Of course they wouldn't be. They would probably be at a local orphanage or something. Groaning softly, he stood and walked to the kitchen, not even flinching when Dudley rammed into him and then yelled at him for tripping him up.

(A/N: At school, lunchtime.)

"Oy! Harry!"

Harry looked up to see Gellert dragging Tom over to him.

"What do you plan to do in the meantime? Before you turn six that is."

"I turn six in two days! That's not long to wait!"

Tom eyed Harry as if he expected him to jump up and slide a dagger into his back.

"You don't look almost six. You look like a four-year-old." Tom finally said, still eyeing Harry winced. "I know. I was abused and malnourished by my relatives until I got my letter. Then they wouldn't stay in the same room as me. They despised me."

"Oh." Was all Tom could say.

"Bet you thought I was spoilt and showered with gifts everyday. Snape must of at least reported that before summer, I always begged Dumbledore to let me stay somewhere else. No? I know before I went to Hogwarts he thought I was pampered, but didn't he connect the dots? That I always came back skinny? Really short for my age? Scars on my back? Sometimes coming back and going straight to the hospital? Always not telling anyone about why I had to do that? Always clammed up when he talked about my home life? Or at least noticed I hated my fame? But did he? No. Because he was holding a schoolboy grudge against my father and so therefore because I looked like him, I must be every inch the arrogant prat my father was."

Tom looked stunned and Grindelwald usual smile was nowhere to be seen.

"You were just like me. We were both half- bloods. Orphans cast away. Both felt like Hogwarts was our home, our savior. Both famous within the castle for some reason or the other. Both treated like dirt until we got our letter. And yet… somehow we were enemies. I didn't get it until I learnt of the prophecy." Harry said, feeling the need to get this off his chest. "Dumbledore made up the prophecy. He staged it. He always held interviews in his office. Didn't you find it strange that the one time he held an interview in the Hog's Head it was a seer prophesying your doom?"

Harry shook his head and sighed. They sat in silence for a couple minutes until Dudley swaggered up, his friends/bullies in tow. "Looky here, the freak has got some friends. Do they know how freaky you are, weirdo? Or are they freaks too?"

To Dudley surprise, Harry just laughed. Dudley kinda just insulted three of the four most powerful wizards alive! And he didn't even realise! "Boys, I think we've earned ourselves a game of three-freak-hunt!" Dudley sneered at Harry, who was still laughing. "We'll be so kind as to give you freaks a head start."

"Me? A head start? Sounds more like you need a head start."

This time it was Gellert who spoke, shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter.

(Dudley POV:)

Dudley obviously took this act as a scared one and cracked his knuckles threateningly. "10, 9, 8, … 3, 2, 1!"

Confused, he took in the scene around. Harry was doubled up, laughing, the blonde boy (Gellert) was trying to stifle his laughter, to no avail, and the dark haired one (Tom) was watching his friends (if you could call them that) with a raised eyebrow. Why weren't they afraid?