Harry let out a low whistle when the Knight Bus finally arrived in Ottery St. Catchpole. The Diggory's Georgian-style house wasn't quite a mansion, but it was far more posh than the run-downed Burrow. His friend Ron was always so conscious about being poor, and now he understood why. The Weasleys were obviously underprivileged compared to their neighbors in this small Devonshire village.

"Was there some reason we did not use the Floo?" Professor McGonagall asked as she tried to steady herself after the bumpy ride from Hogwarts. "Even apparition would have been preferable to that infernal contraption."

"Come now Minerva, a jaunt on the Knight Bus tops even the best muggle roller coasters," Albus commented as he slipped the conductor Stan Shunpike a one galleon tip.

"We are in the midst of the greatest crisis since the death of You-Know-Who. This isn't the time for your ridiculous frivolity."

"Tom Riddle might have been a lousy general, but he was brilliant psychologist. He had you all so paranoid you still can't think straight over a decade after his disappearance," Harry grumbled as they passed through the Diggory's wards. "Now is precisely the time when we need "ridiculous frivolity" the most."

"Mr Potter, you will refrain from lecturing your elders on subjects which you know nothing about," Minerva snapped. "Am I making myself clear?"

"As long as you continue to use the phrase "You-Know-Who" I will continue to dismiss you as an authority figure."

"Why you disrespectful..."

"Minerva, do try and calm down," Albus said as he knocked on the front door, which opened a moment later.

An older but still attractive witch came outside to greet them with a smile on her face. "Headmaster Dumbledore, it is such an honor to have you here tonight. And this must be Harry Potter, the famous Boy-Who-Lived."

Harry gently took the witch's hand and kissed it. "Mrs Diggory, I would like to thank you and your husband for the last-minute invitation. Please accept this humble gift. It's the best I could do on such short notice." He then handed her a crude glass bottle full of a brownish liquid which seemed to be glowing.

"Sweet Merlin, is this really Centaur Cider?''

"Yes, it is. Fresh from the Forbidden Forest."

"But how in the world did you get them to part with it?" an amazed Mrs Diggory asked.

"I'm sorry, but I promised the centaur leader Magorian that I would keep that bit of information a secret," Harry said with a grin. "Do be careful when you're serving it. The Cider is brewed with the avenge centaur in mind, so it's extremely potent."

"I will be sure to keep that in mind," she replied before turning to Minerva, who wasn't carrying a gift. "Professor McGonagall."

"It's good to see you again, Cecilia."

"Before we go inside I should warn you all that the mood among the other guests is grim," Mrs Diggory explained. "All anyone can talk about is the Breakout."

The Breakout. Harry could actually hear the witch capitalize the word. The news that ten of Voldemort's most feared Death Eaters had escaped from the inescapable Azkaban was bad enough, but even worse was the death of twelve Aurors. That relatively low number of casualties wouldn't have shocked a muggle, but the population of magical Britain was less than twenty thousand souls. So the loss of just twelve wizards had a tremendous impact.

However this particular party had been planned before the news of the Breakout was announced in yesterday's Daily Prophet. Most of the department heads from the Ministry of Magic were in attendance, along with scattering of businessmen and healers. The crowd went silent when Albus and Harry appeared. All of the wizards and witches present were purebloods, but none of them had approved of Voldemort or this bigoted agenda. Indeed most were strong supporters of the Dumbledore and the Boy-Who-Lived, whom many saw as the Headmaster's heir apparent.

Harry could tell they were desperate for reassurance, for someone to tell them that the chaotic and bloody civil war of the seventies wasn't going to flare up again. So that is exactly what he and Albus did as they casually mingled with the crowd. He could only hope they weren't lying.

About an hour later they were finally approached by their host Amos Diggory. "May I have a word with the two of you in my private study?"

They were led to a comfortable office, and despite the warm summer weather the fireplace was lit. Amos tapped his wand against the stone hearth to deactivate a defensive ward, and the red flames turned green. Seconds later an impressive looking wizard emerged. His long tawny hair was heavily streaked with grey and he had a limp, but Harry knew instinctively that this man was dangerous. The need to meet him on neutral ground was the reason they had attended the Diggory's party in the first place.

"Rufus Scrimgeour, it's good to see you again," Albus said after Amos left the three of them alone.

"Spare me the small talk Dumbledore. As the Chief Auror I have a great deal on my plate at the moment. You're the one who asked for this private meeting, so what do you want?"

"Very well. Let me be perfectly honest with you. Britain needs a new Minister of Magic as soon as possible, and I believe that you are the best wizard for the job."

Scrimgeour snorted loudly. "I couldn't agree with you more, but Cornelius Fudge will never step down."

"Normally that would be true," Albus allowed. "But he could be persuaded to leave of his own free will. I'm willing to give up my positions as the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot and as Britain's ambassador to the International Confederation of Wizards. Cornelius will resign as Minister of Magic if he is allowed to succeed me in both jobs."

"You are prepared to surrender all your political power just to get rid of that bumbling idiot?" a shocked Scrimgeour asked.

"Desperate times call for desperate measures," Albus replied.

"There is no guarantee that I would win the ensuing election."

"I would be willing to publicly endorse your candidacy at a time of your choosing," Harry added. "That plus the support of Headmaster Dumbledore's political faction should be enough to get you over the top."

"Well Dumbledore, I'm glad to see you have the boy well trained."

Harry gave Scrimgeour a nasty smile. "It's true, and I'm especially good at dealing household pests. Do you have any Dark Lords or thousand year-old basilisks that you would like me to get rid of?"

"Well spoken, Potter. I apologize," the Chief Auror said as he walked over to the liquor cabinet and poured himself a tall glass of firewhiskey. He then downed it in one shot. "I suppose Mad-Eye has told you what happened out at Azkaban the other night."

"Alastor provided me with a general overview of the situation, but he left out any specific details," Albus replied.

"The Aurors we station at Azkaban aren't our best people, but they all have three years of combat training," a weary Scrimgeour told them. "Despite that training this mysterious killer caught them completely off-guard. None of them even have a chance to drawn their wands. There is also the matter of the magic that was used against them: all twelve were killed with some unknown fire curse that cut their hearts right in half. I've never seen such precisely-placed wounds before."

"The Dark Arts can allow a wizard to do terrible things."

"No Dumbledore, this wasn't the work of some common Dark Wizard you'd find in Knockturn Alley. It was done by a true artist, someone like Tom Riddle. Mad-Eye has hinted several times that the monster is still alive. Is this true?"

"Yes, I'm afraid that Tom is indeed alive."

"So that is why you want Cornelius out of the way," Scrimgeour reasoned. "I agree with you that he's too weak to face this kind of threat, but I'm not interested in being your puppet. Why not take the job yourself? You've been offered it on three separate occasions."

"If I stood for election the pureblood extremist would almost certainly revolt," Albus replied. "You on the other hand have a reputation for being independent of all the various political factions. Both sides will accept your leadership... at least for the time being."

"And what about the Order of the Phoenix? Under my leadership the Ministry of Magic will not tolerate employees who join vigilante groups, no matter how honorable their intentions are."

Albus and Harry shared a long look. As former generals both Lews Therin and Rand al'Thor had no use for individuals who flouted the chain of command. As a result Harry had made it clear that he wanted nothing to do with the Headmaster's "social club" if a war broke out in the future.

"The Order of the Phoenix will remain inactive as long as you agree to appoint Kingsley Shacklebolt as the new Chief Auror."

Scrimgeour bristled at this ultimatum. "He's too young."

"You were only four years older when you became Chief Auror," Albus countered. "Kingsley is without a doubt the most talented wizard of his generation, and you won't find a better candidate."

"Plus he is your strongest supporter among the younger Aurors, and a close friend of Mad-Eye. Is that your only condition?"

Albus nodded.

"Then we have ourselves a deal."


A week later Nymphadora Tonks, proud Auror-trainee, found herself standing in the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic listening to a series of boring political speeches. For some mysterious reason the great Albus Dumbledore was stepping down as Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, and Cornelius Fudge of all people had been chosen to replace him. The next day Rufus Scrimgeour had been elected as the new Minister of Magic by a large majority. As far as she could tell everyone was relieved to have a more aggressive leader in charge, and that included Fudge himself. Well, a good man knows his limitations.

"Professor McGonagall, do you know where the loo is located in this madhouse?" Harry Potter asked.

The old witch looked like she wanted to transfigure the boy into a litter box. That was odd since she usually doted on her lions almost as much as Professor Snape favored his snakes. She had even allowed Potter to join the Quidditch team as a first year, a violation of the rules which her fellow Hufflepuffs had bitterly complained about at the time.

"Auror Tonks!"

"Yes, Professor McGonagall?"

"Please escort Mr Potter to the lavatory, and see that the wretched child stays out of trouble."

"Yes ma'am! This way Mr Potter."

It was some distance from the Atrium to the nearest loo, and Tonks kept stealing glances at the famous Boy-Who-Lived as they walked. The Hogwarts grapevine insisted that Harry Potter was shy and kind of boring, but he certainly didn't seem that way in the flesh. He was striding down the hallway with his hands clasped behind his back like a veteran Auror.

"I have met a few hundred witches during the past two years, but none of them had pink hair," Potter remarked.

"I'm a metamorphmagus."

"That's a strange word. Does it mean that you can alter your appearance without using Polyjuice Potion?"

Tonks nodded enthusiastically as her hair went from pink to black. "I'm the only one in Western Europe, and there are less than a dozen of us in the world."

Potter abruptly stopped walking, and she turned around to face him in the empty hallway. "Can you make your eyes larger?"

"It's kind of hard, but yes," She closed her eyes tightly and felt her sockets begin to expand by a few millimeters. In less than ten seconds she was done. "I'm quite talented if I do say so myself. The Aurors recruiters first approached me back during my fifth year at Hogwarts."

"Make your hair curly and longer. Down to your shoulders."

Before Tonks could stop and think about it she had complied with his forceful request. She knew the Boy-Who-Lived was only thirteen years-old, but at the moment he seemed much older.

"Darken the shade of your skin, and give it a slight brownish tint," Potter told her. "That's close enough. Now shorten the length of your nose and widen your chin a bit."

At this point Tonks wanted to stop the impromptu talent show, but the boy was studying her with such intensity that she couldn't find the courage to refuse his commands. And that's exactly what they were: commands.

Potter slowly stepped forward until he invaded her personal space. He then raised a hand towards her mouth. "Now form a sharp cupid's bow with your upper lip."

This was definitely going too far, and Tonks reached for her wand. But as fast as she was, Potter was faster. He grabbed her waist and bent it until her wand dropped to the floor. He than took hold of her other waist and slammed her up against the nearby wall. She was about to scream when she saw his green eyes. There wasn't any lust in them, a look she had come to recognize all too often during the past few years. No, there was only pain.

"Min," Potter whispered in anguish. After a moment he let her go, and repeatedly backed away until he ran into the far wall. "I'm so sorry Auror Tonks."

"You're sorry! If you weren't Harry bloody Potter I would be arresting you right now for assaulting an Auror! Right in the middle of the bloody Ministry of Magic no less!"

"I said that I was sorry," Potter snapped.

"Who is this "Min" person?" Tonks demanded. "Tell me the truth and it had better be good."

The question seemed to cause him physical pain. "She is dead."

"You're lying. She probably just some muggle girl you fantasize about while you're wanking."

Suddenly an unknown type of spell tightly squeezed every square centimeter of her body. This was casting on a level she couldn't hope to match, even if she had her wand. Which she didn't.

"If you ever talk that way about Min Farshaw again I will kill you," Potter snarled. "Do you understand me?"

"Yes, I do," a frightened Tonks replied. At that moment she honestly believed the young wizard standing in front of her was capable of cold-blooded murder. "Now could you please let me go? It's sort of hard to breath like this."

Those words seem to hit Potter like a ton of bricks, and the magical bindings surrounding her suddenly disappeared. Tonks bent down to retrieve her lost wand, but when she turned to face the boy again he was nowhere to be seen.


Harry Potter was furious. He was furious at himself for losing control like that. He was furious at that young Auror for not showing any backbone. He was furious about being trapped in this pathetically-short body. He was furious with Albus for making him play these stupid political games. Most of all he was furious with the Creator for taking him away from Min Farshaw, the only woman in his long life who had ever loved him unconditionally.

The Gateway he opened in the loo took him to a small tropical island off the coast of Central America. A month ago it had been one big malaria-infested swamp. That wouldn't do, so he had used Saidin to elevate the surface of the island by five meters and then set up a ward to drive away all the insects. Now it was quite pleasant. It was also far away from both Hogwarts and any nosy magical governments, which made it the ideal spot for his new Aes Sedai training academy.

"Lord Potter, we weren't expecting you today," Argus Flitch said as he came over to the clearly marked Traveling Grounds. A Gateway which opened in the wrong place could easily kill a person, so you were only allowed to travel to and from the island from that specific area.

The former Caretaker of Hogwarts looked like a changed man. He had shaved off his long ragged hair, and now worn muggle-style clothes and boots. He also insisted on using the title "Lord Potter", much to Harry's disgust.

"Summon the Argonauts."

"Yes, my Lord."

The Argonauts consisted of eight squibs who use to go drinking with Argus back in Hogsmeade. The men were all bachelors over the age of fifty, but they were still eager to learn how to channel. And Harry was eager to have loyal subordinates. Despite the positive relationship he had forged with Albus he still couldn't bring himself to trust the old wizard. In fact he often had terrible nightmares about being Obliviated and stripped of his newly regained ability to channel Saidin.

In a few minutes all the men had arrived, so he opened another Gateway. "Where are we going my Lord?" a squib who was close to eighty years-old asked.

"I need to send a message to my enemies."

The Gateway took them to a field a kilometer away from the Nott Estate. The sprawling mansion was the country seat of Stephen Nott, who had been a loyal Death Eater during the First Wizarding War. Dumbledore knew the man had taken part in several muggle massacres, but like Lucius Malfoy he had avoiding Azkaban thanks to the judicious use of bribes.

"I want you all to watch this closely: it's called Cloud Dancing."

Harry seized Saidin and began weaving Air, Fire, and Water on a massive scale. The puffy white clouds in the sky immediately turned pitch black. Out of these clouds came a dozen bolts of lightning which all struck the Nott Estate. The subsequent cracks of thunder were so powerful they knocked two of the Argonauts to the ground. Soon several fires broke out in several different parts of the mansion.

Rather than stay and watch Harry wove another Gateway, this one to house owned by the Death Eater Jeffery Goyle. There he repeated his attack, which caused another massive fire. In all, the Argonauts and their young leader visited a dozen properties that day. He even allowed the old squibs to try Cloud Dancing themselves. They rather enjoyed burning down the houses of prominent Death Eaters.

Not only were these attacks personally cathartic for Harry, but they also sowed a great deal of confusion around Britain. Were they being carried out by the new Scrimgeour Ministry, or were they the work of the prisoners who had recently escaped from Azkaban? No one would know for sure, and what's the way Harry wanted it.


"This course of action is insane," Albus remarked as they made their way undetected into the grim fortress of Nurmengard later that day.

"I was sent to into the past for a reason, and the fate of the world may depend on us finding out what that reason is. I've already trained several squibs, but now I have to find out what happens when a wizard uses the One Power and Wand Magic at the same time," Harry explained. "Besides, he is an old man and no one will care if he dies. Well, no one besides you."

"You won't be able to control him. He is one of the most dangerous Dark Wizards in history."

"And I am the Dragon Reborn. I have faced the Dark One himself in battle and emerged victorious. I refuse to be afraid of a wizard—any wizard."

"He will not be allow to stay anywhere near Hogwarts. If Aberforth discovered his presence my brother would kill him, or die in the attempt."

"The Argonauts will be acting as babysitters, and they are eight thousand kilometers from Hogwarts at the moment."

"I don't trust them either," Albus muttered. "Here we are."

Harry seized Saidin and carefully removed the heavy cell door. It was covered with ancient runes, but these meager defenses could not stop the One Power. Inside the cell they found more runes, and a decrepit old man lying in his own filth.

"Hello my dear Albus. Who's your handsome young friend?"

"His name is Harry Potter, and he would like to make you a very interesting offer."

"What kind of offer?"

"My old friend, he wants to save your soul."

The Dark Lord Gellert Grindelwald threw his head back and laughed.