I decided to go ahead and update this chapter mostly because it's ridiculously short but also because it is the last chapter of part one of The Vetruvian Man- Now before I lose you don't worry I'm going to continue posting chapters as regularly as I have it simply seemed better to split the story into two parts because there is about to be a major shift in time so, with that said, expect the next chapter within the next few days, and REVIEW! I'm loving the feedback I'm getting! Ah, and this story is complete in my archives so I won't be going back to change anything just so that you know, unless I made some massive mistake I won't be returning to fix any perceived errors. Thank you for putting up with my rambling, love you all and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Allons-y!

Let me know what you think!

Mistress Slytherin

WARNINGS:

VIOLENCE

LANGUAGE

HOMOSEXUAL RELATIONSHIP

QUESTIONABLE MORALS

Let me know if I missed anything.

Chapter 10

Song: (Ben Rector- A Heart Breaks)

Harry stood outside in the chill of the night and lit his cigarette inhaling deeply. He'd kicked the habit because Lord Black said it was uncouth, now he couldn't bring himself to care. He had come to this world for peace, but was there ever really any peace to be had?

"Young Mister Black." Came a familiar haunting voice. Harry turned to the man. Albus Dumbledore was a lot younger in this timeframe, his hair and beard were both still brown and there were far fewer wrinkles on his face. But Harry remembered as he looked at the man now that the transfiguration professor had never looked as sad during his time.

"Professor." He said tilting his head in greeting. He'd thrown himself into his studies after Elizabeth. A part of him didn't want to think about it, he would think about anything, but not her, because when he did he felt like he would break.

"It's late young man." The professor said softly.

"Nightmares." Harry said just as quietly. No, that was a lie; he simply couldn't stand to sleep alone in his bed knowing that she wasn't coming back to him.

"Ah, may I ask what kind of nightmares?" The man said softly. Harry found that for once he didn't care if someone knew what he dreamed about.

"Of war, of blood and death, I see twisted faces, young men too young to die, to young and untrained. I see ashes, the explosion of gunfire, shouting…I see my best friend lying in the mud dead because his gun was faulty. I see graves hundreds and hundreds of graves people who had loved and were loved and now are dead. I see all of this and more, I hear explosions, I hear alarms and the madness of rushing feet and clicking metal. I wonder why those mothers ever allowed their son's to go to war, they were children, just children they had no place in war." He whispered flicking his cigarette.

"Is that why you keep a gun with you Mister Black?" Dumbledore asked after a moment. Harry smiled wryly; Dumbledore would be the one to notice it wouldn't he?

"I carried it with me everywhere; it kept me alive now I just carry it because I can't leave that world behind."

"That world hmm?" Dumbledore said softly. Harry's breath caught in his throat, it couldn't be, it wasn't possible…

"The past is in the past professor." He said softly.

"Is it? Or is your past our future?" He said seriously. Harry felt his heart shiver in his chest. "You have not aged a day since arriving here Mister Black. There is only one theory that can account for such a thing to occur." The man continued. "You've integrated yourself into our timeline however you are frozen at the age of what fifteen?"

"Sixteen." Harry breathed too stunned to deny it. Was he? Frozen in time? How was that even possible?

"Did you build the machine? I know you are clever enough I've seen your scores." Dumbledore demanded. Harry shook his head.

"My friend, she wanted me to get away from it from the war that we were losing, she wanted me to have peace so she sent me here." He breathed before daring to glance at Dumbledore. The man was staring intently at him.

"I created a theory, to go back in time and to fix the wrongs I have done. To use that to live peacefully would be a cowards way out but you didn't get the chance to choose, no your friend did that for you didn't she? You had no idea what she was doing to you, you trusted her so much." He said grimly.

"Yeah well trust seems to be my issue." Harry said dryly. "I trust too easily." He said before dropping the butt of his cigarette and crushing it under his heel. "And you can't change history; if you try then you can destroy the fabric of reality. You can be written into the past, but the outcome will always be the same you'll just have changed minor parts, shifted them around and the future remains the same." Harry said grimly.

"I know, that is why I never used my own theory, it's just a dream, a fantasy." Harry frowned.

"Are you sure professor; are you so certain that you never used your own theory, in a moment of desperation a way of changing the past?" Harry said softly. He had assumed that the headmaster was dead just like everyone else in his time. The headmaster was simply missing, gone.

"Perhaps…in a feat of great desperation I might have, but to do so would cause a reaction, my body would be destroyed even as I played with fate." The man said thoughtfully. "You don't think…" Harry smiled grimly.

"I don't know, but that was my last cigarette and I'll need my wits about me to keep everything organized for tomorrow, although I'm almost certain that the Gryffindors will be too hung over to do anything too rash. I'm sure I saw a certain Prewett head up with some fire whiskey a while ago." The professor chuckled lightly.

"And you let them Head Boy Black? He murmured amused. Harry's smile fell a bit.

"Those boys will be men some day, men that will face a darkening world let them have joy now, let them remember good times." Harry said smiling faintly.

"And you mister Black? You who will not age, you who will remain as you are, what will you do?" The professor said narrowing his eyes. Harry frowned.

"I'll live one day at a time professor-that's all I can do." He said before turning and walking away.

A new day was dawning his future was at hand.