AN: Full disclosure. I didn't realize when I was messing around deleting chapters and figuring out how to replace them that it was happening in real-time and would send out an update to everyone saying WTT was updated. I was not prepared for the flood of messages. My bad. Also, sorry to the people who thought I was deleting the original version, I didn't realize how fond some of you were of it. I reposted the original in its cringe-worthy entirety so its there if you want it. Sorry again.
"Do you have any idea how much paperwork you've caused me?" came the ranting voice of the Unspeakable Field Commander, his face hidden by the trademark hood of the Department of Mysteries.
Harry leaned nonchalantly against the door-frame of his future/old boss's office, an apologetic look on his face at the old man's frustration.
The office of the Unspeakable Field Commander would seem small and unassuming to anybody fully aware of the Sub-department Head's power. Stuffed in a dark corner, the cramped office was filled from floor to ceiling with dusty old manuscripts, a desk covered in loose parchment, and an oddly well-kept poster of the Chudley Cannons Quidditch Championship team, 1892.
-almost an entire combat squad in the infirmary! Do you even understand how much medical documentation needs to be filed-"
As his old boss continued one of his infamous rants, Harry couldn't help but chuckle at the old man's office. Thirty years into the past and the relic's workplace still looked exactly the same as it would in the future.
"Of course you don't care about creating paperwork, I can just tell by looking at your smug little face!" complained the Unspeakable loudly, throwing his hands into the air, "You're probably laughing yourself to death about all the trouble you're causing me, aren't you?!"
Harry waved his hands about noncommittally, an easy grin on his face.
"Goddamn time travelers, always causing me a bloody headache," growled the Unspeakable, rubbing his temple, "Oh don't give me that confused look, I knew you were a time traveler the second you walked into my department."
Harry cocked his head to the side in apparent confusion.
"Bah!" groaned the Head as he shuffled the paperwork across his desk, knocking most of it onto the floor of the cramped office, "Ah hah!"
The Unspeakable raised a crumpled piece of parchment into the air, a noticeable mustard stain across its surface.
"Every time someone steps foot into the Department of Mysteries, one of these puppies gets conjured into my office. Damn things keep appearing over my head and instead of in the damn inbox container!" finished the Head loudly, his fist shaking futilely at the ceiling.
"So obviously, when I get a report that a field operative activated in nineteen ninety-nine just walked through my department, you are either a really stupid infiltrator or another goddamned time traveler."
"Another?" said Harry, speaking for the first time.
"Did I stutter? I must deal with at least a dozen travelers through time a century! Granted none of them have traveled farther than six months, so at least you're somewhat interesting. So, what, twenty-something years? Intentional?"
Harry shook his head, "Accidental."
"Any idea of how you arrived?"
Harry paused, "Not really... Last thing I remember I was drinking in twenty-ten and woke up hungover in nineteen seventy-eight."
"Ahhhh... Reminds me of the summer of seventeen oh eight, though granted that was only three months, not thirty years..."
"So, what happens now?" asked Harry taking a seat across the Commander and waving his wand lazily, effortlessly transfiguring his chair into something more comfortable.
"Your secrecy oath, it still applies does it not?" asked the Unspeakable, collapsing tiredly into his seat.
"If you're asking whether or not I can tell the world that the infamous Immortal Alchemist Nicholas Flamel is also the crotchety old man in charge of field operations for the Department of Mysteries or that his wife is the Head Unspeakable, then no. That particular secrecy oath still works. Not all of them still do though, I'm not entirely sure why."
"Cheeky brat," muttered the Head, lowering the cowl of his cloak, revealing the ancient visage of the immortal alchemist, an indignant expression across his face, "You're a bit young to be one of my Group Commanders."
Harry shrugged, "I slew a Dark Lord or two in my time... The only person I still have trouble dueling with is your wife."
Nicholas and Harry simultaneously cringed. His lovely wife was a terrifying fighter. Anyone who would throw castration charms as easily and frequently as she did had reason to be feared.
"Ahh. Well. Let's not bother the Missus anytime soon," said Nicholas carefully, as Harry nodded vehemently in agreement.
"To be honest, I'm not entirely sure what to do with you," said the immortal contemplatively, "Usually, most travelers are the result of an experiment from R&D. You're the first Field Agent I've had to deal with."
Harry shrugged, "There was a bit of a hiccup. Dumbledore's figured out my status already ended up telling him I was retired. I assume the Department will be just fine without me. Besides, I'd be willing to help out every once in awhile, if you needed it."
"Hmm..." hummed the old man as he stroked his beard in thought, "I'd be willing to allow it. As long as you agree to a few stipulations. One, you'd stay on the reserve list, you won't run ops with my agents unless I need to activate you."
The younger Unspeakable nodded in agreement.
"Second," a cunning gleam appeared in the immortal's eye, "It seems my combat teams are not as good as they claim to be. Perhaps an expert would be willing to impart some future knowledge to my soldiers?"
"Wouldn't that break some sort of time travel law?"
"Bah! Paradoxes are a government conspiracy to discourage time travel experimentation. There are two prevailing thoughts on time travel. One is that everything you do has already been done once before, therefore changing nothing. Or two, your actions are rewriting the timeline as you know it, affecting change with your mere presence," lectured Flamel animatedly, "Either way, my Operatives gain an insight into magical combat in the future. It's a win-win scenario."
Harry nodded, trusting in his old boss's judgment.
"And finally, you need a new identity. I can't just be calling you errr..." stumbled Nicholas, a flash of panic crossing the old man's eyes.
Harry rolled his eyes, "It's Harry old man. You really should get that case of Alzheimer's checked out."
"Cheeky brat. Who exactly are you in the future?"
"Harry James Potter. Half-blood Lord of the Most Ancient and Noble House Potter. Maybe Black. Not really sure on that. Got the ring, but nothing official."
"Truly? The future must be a much more tolerable place."
"Ehh," grunted Harry halfheartedly.
"I'm sure the current Lords Potter and Black would not be so keen to give up their titles. Perhaps a Carrow? Their line has always been scattered about. No. They wouldn't do... You look nothing like a Weasley, and the rest of the current families have an up to date family tree... Maybe one of the extinct lines? The Pendragons haven't been seen for-"
Harry tuned out the old man as he thought out loud. The younger Unspeakable let loose a devious grin as an idea suddenly struck him.
Nicholas paused his thought process, a suspicious expression on his face as he glared at the time traveler who slowly made his way around his desk, a mischievous look in his eyes.
"What are you up to-"
"Dad! It's so nice to meet you!" laughed Harry as he made to hug the old Unspeakable, the old man backing away from the idiotic time traveler.
"Step away from me this instant! You are no son of mine!" roared Nicholas as he feebly blocked the other Unspeakable's path with his rather plush office chair.
"But Father! Why don't you love me?"
"I will beat you senseless boy!"
Agent Valkyrie was not a happy woman. It was hard enough being the rookie member of Sigma Squad. The endless hazing, the constant pranks, the dumb jokes. Valkyrie swore she was going to start murdering people. This was not the glamorous life she had expected when she was approached by an Unspeakable recruiter after Hogwarts.
Tradition they say. Well they can stick their goddamn tradition where the sun!-
The female Unspeakable took deep calming breaths, drawing on the lessons of her youth. Witches of her blood were supposed to be graceful, calm, in control at all times.
Then that mother fucker just had to take her hostage!
Valkyrie growled audibly, she should have hit the cocky bastard with a damn crucio!
The woman felt her blood boil at the thought of the smug bastard. She wasn't going to hear the end of this for months!
Her only consolation was that she and the boss man were the only ones to come out physically unscathed from their failed snatch and grab. Archer had to get the bones in his left arm vanished and regrown, Loki looked like he got smashed in the face with a bludger and-
"Oooff!" grunted agent Valkyrie as she fell backward onto the floor.
The amused target of her failed mission stood nonchalantly over her.
"You!" hissed the woman, a murderous expression on her face, unfortunately, hidden behind her charmed hood.
"Me?" asked the smug bastard, a brow raised in amusement, "Aren't you that rookie from earlier? Sorry 'bout that. No hard feelings?"
Valkyrie felt her fury grow at the gall of the cocky son of a bitch in front of her, her wand already in motion, no hard feelings her ass!
One second Valkyrie had a curse at the edge of her lips, her wand nearly finished with its movements. The next, the woman found her face smashed into the cold floor, her wand arm twisted behind her and a knee jabbed harshly into her back.
"Bastard-" growled the woman as she felt the man relieve her of her wand.
"Well that was rude," quipped the man as he twirled her wand lazily through his fingers, moving from his position on top of her.
Valkyrie hopped to her feet, her hidden face burning red with embarrassment.
"Give me back my wand," growled the woman.
The man gave her an incredulous look, "After you just tried to curse me? What do I look like? An Auror?"
Valkyrie let loose a small snort of amusement at the not so subtle jab at the Auror corps. Incompetent wand wavers the lot of them.
"No, you'll get your wand when I'm sure I won't be getting a cruciatus to the back. Or if you say please. Either way works for me," said the man as he stopped spinning her wand in his hand, staring at it curiously.
"I swear I've seen this wand before..." muttered the bastard.
Agent Valkyrie took in a calming breath, trying to get a lid on her infamous temper, "Give me back my wand. Please."
The bastard's eyes widened in shock before he eventually shrugged and tossed her wand back at her, "Huh. I had you pegged as one of those arrogant prideful types. Didn't think you'd actually apologize."
The man scratched the back of his head awkwardly, "I must be getting rusty... Hehe..."
Valkyrie resisted the urge to curse the man again. Her past two attempts proving her inferiority to the bastard's fighting ability.
"Why the hell are you walking around here without an escort bastard?" asked the woman angrily.
"Bastard? Ouch. You wound me. I much prefer Harry," grinned Harry as he stuffed his hands into his pockets, "Besides, I work here. Be a bit odd if I needed a babysitter at my workplace eh?"
"Then why the hell were we ordered to capture you dead or alive?"
Harry shrugged, "What can I say? I pissed off the old man... It's how he shows he loves me. Besides, it's good training for you guys. I'm not exactly an easy target to take down..."
Valkyrie rolled her eyes at the arrogant twat, "Cocky bastard."
Harry gave her an easy grin, "It's a character flaw. Call it the result of being the golden boy back in school."
"You? The golden boy?"
"I've come a long way... Now I just have unhealthy coping mechanisms. Being as annoying as possible being my favorite," grinned Harry, "You're Agent Valkyrie of Sigma is that right?"
Valkyrie nodded slowly.
"I'll be sure to remember that..." a mischievous look flashed across Harry's face, "Rookie..."
If the bastard didn't suddenly apparate Valkyrie swore she would've choked the asshole to death.
"Harry! I swear to Merlin if I have to drag you out of bed again, I'm going to kick your arse!"
Harry groaned tiredly as he rolled out of bed and rubbed his eyes tiredly.
"Mmphgh..." moaned the Unspeakable loudly as he rubbed the purpling bruise across his chest.
"Don't you moan at me, Mister! I know where you sleep! Now hurry up and get out here. Someone wants to talk to you!"
"Love you too Rosie..." groaned Harry sarcastically as summoned a healing salve off his dresser. The burly Unspeakable from last night got him pretty good with that haymaker, a dark bruise branching out over his left pectoral.
Harry turned as his door suddenly burst open and a pair of women came barging into his space.
"Damn it, Harry, how long does it take for you to get ready?" bemoaned Rosmerta, the pretty brunette dragging her companion behind her.
"Morning Rosie," nodded Harry, rolling his eyes at his landlord/boss's lack of barriers, "You too Amy."
Standing awkwardly behind the brunette, the petite redheaded Auror shifted silently. Her Auror robes replaced with a set of casual robes.
"Now why exactly-" Rosmerta paused mid-sentence. "What the hell happened to you? And are those claw marks?"
Harry glanced down at that particular set of scars Rosie was asking about. Memories of a mission gone wrong, a broom on fire, and getting swatted out of the sky by a particularly ornery undead dragon came to mind.
"Testaments of an adventurous youth."
Rosie scoffed motioning at his scar ridden body, "What? As a lion tamer?"
"I prefer the term exotic dancer."
"A stripper Harry? Really?" deadpanned Rosmerta, disbelief evident on the pretty woman's face.
"My clients were very rough."
Rosie stared at him dumbly, before throwing her hands up in frustration.
"Forget it! Don't care! He's all yours Amelia, I've got errands to run," exclaimed Rosmerta stalking out of his room, muttering about lying good for nothing waiters and their stupid insistence on being as aggravating as possible.
Harry grinned at Rosie's antics before running a hand through his shaggy hair, "What can I do for you, Amy?"
The Auror moved into his room, closing the door behind her, "I need your help."
"Umm... Harry?" asked Amelia, her posture rigid.
"Yes Amy?" said Harry as he dug into his bowl of ice cream with gusto.
"When I asked if you knew where we could talk in private," the Auror lowered her voice to a hissing whisper, "I didn't think an ice cream shop in Diagon Alley was an option!"
"Ahh..." hummed Harry as he pointed a chocolate-covered spoon at the Auror, "That's your first mistake. Rule number one of covert meetings is to have them in public."
Amelia looked at the retired Unspeakable like he was crazy, "That's idiotic."
Taking another bite, Harry simply smiled, "I think the term you are looking for is genius."
"Take a look around, what do you see?"
Amelia took a quick glance around the shop before answering, "Thirteen heads, seven male, six female. All under the ages of thirty excluding the shop owner who is a middle-aged white male between forty and forty-five. None appear to have any military or law enforcement training, however, the male directly on my nine has a wand holster, implying at least a familiarity with some form of self-defense."
Harry nodded simply, "Do you know what I see?"
"I see six pairs of couples enjoying some warm cups of coffee on this cold winter day, although the couple in the corner seem to be going through a rough patch. Poor bugger. He's going to be heartbroken."
Amelia gave him a confused look, "I don't understand."
Harry sighed, "What it means Miss Bones, is that sometimes the best place to hide is in plain sight. We appear for all intents and purposes, as a couple on a date. And to anyone trying to eavesdrop on us, we would be heard engaged in a scandalous conversation about the merits of public sex."
Amy's cheeks tinted red in anger and embarrassment.
"A date is infinitely less suspicious than clandestine meetings in the dark Amy, do try to keep up."
Amelia gaped before taking in a deep calming breath, "So what we're saying is completely private?"
"Well if you consider the fact that anyone listening in just heard you proposition me for some raunchy midnight encounters than yes. Private."
Harry chuckled as the Auror's face reddened in embarrassment.
Regaining her composure, Amelia continued, "I need your help. I wasn't sure who to trust but I think the Dark Lord has spies in the Auror Corps..."
Harry gave the Auror an incredulous look, "So you come to me? You do know we've only interacted maybe, twice right? I thought you were trying to seduce me!"
"What? No! I wasn't trying to-I mean, I don't have anyone else I can go to!" exclaimed the redhead frantically, shaking her head, "I'm not exactly the most sociable of people. And I don't know who to trust in the department! I figured you were my best chance at help, being a former y'know."
Harry rubbed his temples, "I was sure you were trying to seduce me. Why do you think the Auror's have been compromised? And why me?"
"There's been too many coincidences adding up. Undermanned patrols getting attacked. Secure shipments getting stolen. Safe houses getting compromised. Information only an Auror would know. Once is an accident. Twice is a coincidence..."
"Three times is enemy action," finished Harry, completing the old adage. The time traveler barely restrained a sigh.
Despite traveling thirty years to the past, Harry had, for the most part, ignored the reality of his situation. He was currently right in the middle of the first wizarding war. He knew for a fact the Auror Corps in nineteen seventy-eight was corrupt. Hell, there were already books written about it during his time.
Voldemort was still alive.
The bastard had been dead for so long, it felt almost surreal to acknowledge the fact. Harry had grown up and moved on after the war of his youth. He was far from the undertrained and underprepared boy who beat the Dark Lord with a disarming charm.
He had battled dragons in the depths of tombs long forgotten, fought in the Great Vampire Wars that had threatened to spill into the muggle world and put down a budding Dark Lord hoping to fill the shoes of his failed predecessor. Harry was no longer that scared little boy. He was an Unspeakable. The best.
Voldemort was still alive. And neither can live while the other survives. Harry gave a small snort of amusement. The damn prophecy still hung over his head like a guillotine.
"Harry?"
The Unspeakable sighed softly, "Listen to me carefully. I'm not as retired as I've led you to believe. I want you to start compiling me a list of names. People you suspect, their associates, anything you can find. But do so quietly. You can't trust anybody."
Amelia nodded conspiratorially.
"I'll talk to my people. You get me those names and we'll take care of them."
"Take care of them?"
"Less you know the better," said Harry, pointing at his head, "You don't want that kind of knowledge floating around your head if you can help it."
Amelia nodded.
"Second, we'll be officially seeing each other now Amy."
The Auror choked, "W-what?"
Harry rolled his eyes, "We need a reason to interact. When an attractive Auror starts meeting with a roguishly handsome waiter, people are going to talk. It's called a cover Amy, Merlin it's like you've never done this before."
Harry groaned at the sheepish look the Auror was giving him.
"Look we need to-" Harry froze as a foreboding feeling crept across his spine before a massive boom violently shook the shop.
"An attack?"
Amy nodded, standing up abruptly, wand in hand.
"That's what I was afraid of," said Harry, as he deactivated the charms hiding his Unspeakable cloak, and raised the enchanted hood over his head, concealing his identity.
The screech of panicked screams echoed loudly outside the shop.
Harry charged out of the building to a scene of chaos. Flames were bursting from a myriad of broken shops, while Death Eaters robed in black marched down the alley, cutting down civilians left and right.
"Goddamn cowards," growled Harry as he banished a splintered wooden beam into the stomach of a distracted Death Eater, the cruciatus curse he was casting suddenly and violently stopping.
Jabbing his wand forward, Harry quickly shouted to the female Auror beside him, "Auror Bones! Catch!"
The Unspeakable twisted his wand backward, summoning a wave of panicked civilians towards him and away from the Death Eaters. Without pausing to see if Amelia caught them, Harry exploded into action.
A pair of shaggy polar bears twisted into creation as Harry's magic transformed them from the broken wreckage into lumbering beasts of destruction. Another quick wave of the Unspeakable's wand saw the sudden creation of spiked metal armor forming on the creatures, adding an additional layer of protection on the already terrifying beasts.
Sprinting to the closest Death Eater in sight, Harry ducked under a particularly nasty blood boiling curse and slammed a savage fist into the man's unprotected stomach. Before the unfortunate Death Eater could finish dry heaving, Harry was already behind the man, using him as a shield, as the telltale flash of the killing curse connecting with the terrorist.
Slamming his palm into the dead Death Eater's back, Harry wandlessly banished the dead man at his opponents.
Diving out of the way of another killing curse, Harry grasped the hidden knife he kept hidden in his boot and sent it flying. Moving in a practiced motion, the Unspeakable waved his wand, activating the replication charm on the blade, transforming the lone blade into over a dozen.
An unfortunate pair of Death Eaters found their lives tragically cut short as the silver blades flew through their shields and pinned them violently to the wall.
Harry let loose a grim smile at the frantic screams of a pair of Death Eaters as his transfigured bears mauled them to death.
"Crucio!"
Harry snarled in pain as a torture curse slammed into his side, causing the familiar feeling of a thousand knives driving themselves into his body. The strength of the spell driving him to his knees.
The Unspeakable gasped for breath the second the curse ended and silently cast a pair of bone breakers in the general direction from where the cruciatus curse came from.
"Impressive. Not many can cast so quickly after suffering under my grasp..." came a friendly sounding voice, as Harry rolled backward out of the way of another crucio.
Glancing up at his opponent, Harry flinched, causing a bone-crushing hex to nearly take his head off.
"Ahhh. I see you have recognized me," drawled the handsome looking man standing in the middle of the burning street, flames licking the bottom of his robes harmlessly, "I am Lord Voldemort. It is a pleasure."
The self-proclaimed dark lord bowed dramatically, an easy smile on his remarkably human face.
"I can't say I feel the same, my lord," replied Harry sarcastically, as he kept an eye on the Death Eaters stalking alongside their lord.
"A pity," shrugged the dark lord, his frightfully intelligent eyes seemingly locking with Harry's through his enchanted cowl, "It's not often a ministry Unspeakable openly duels my servants as you have. I was under the impression your organization was more, clandestine, in such matters."
Harry outwardly shrugged as he struggled to silently break the anti-apparation and anti-portkey wards around him, "I have a tendency to defy expectations."
The genial smile of the dark lord was far more intimidating than his future counterpart's, as the dark lord spread his arms wide dramatically.
"Then let us put that to the test. I expect my Death Eaters will kill you," Voldemort's lip curled cruelly into a smile, "I challenge you to defy my expectations..."
The dark lord had barely finished speaking before Harry burst into motion.
Six Death Eaters plus the dark lord. Harry gave an inward sigh of relief as Lord Voldemort moved to the rear, seemingly content to watch.
"Protego," hissed Harry, forming an advanced version of the basic shield spell entirely around his left hand as he twisted underneath a killing curse.
Harry let loose a savage grin as one of the Death Eaters fired a bone-crushing hex at him. Sliding towards the curse, Harry swung his protego covered hand at the hex and smacked it, sending the spell directly back at its caster, crushing the man's chest with his own spell.
"You'll pay for that-"
The former Unspeakable dove sideways out of the way of an unknown dark curse, and waved his wand across the battlefield.
Chunks of mortar and debris shook violently before twisting into hundreds of snarling oversized rats.
Continuing his spell chain, Harry's wide arcing wand movement transitioned into the sharp jab of a banishing spell, sending the newly created creatures flying at the Death Eaters.
Harry roared in pain as a bludgeoning curse clipped his side, sending the Unspeakable crashing through the glass display window of a nearby shop.
The Unspeakable's vision blurred as crimson blood ran down a cut on his skull and into his eyes. Harry groaned as he lifted himself off the floor, small pieces of debris falling off his cloak as he did so.
"Avada Kedavra!" snarled a burly Death Eater, the larger man able to physically beat off the transfigured creatures far quicker than his companions.
Harry wandlessly summoned a nearby display case in front of him, blocking the killing curse, while his wand hand conjured a vicious looking blade attached to a length of chain.
"Your death will be the first of many-" roared the Death Eater before suddenly stopping. A blade buried deep in his chest.
"Shut the fuck up mate," growled Harry, before tugging on the chain that connected the Unspeakable to the Death Eater.
The unfortunate man found himself hurtling through the air at the Unspeakable, before collapsing bonelessly as an elbow struck the Death Eater directly in the face.
With barely a backward glance, Harry threw a cutting curse at the Death Eaters throat, finishing the man permanently.
Stepping out of the destroyed storefront, Harry was pleased to see that his wave of killer rats was able to bring down at least two of his opponents. The spell was the brainchild of his best friend and partner in crime, Ron Weasley.
Apparently, Peter Pettigrew left a foul taste in the redhead's mouth, as the future Auror Captain took great pleasure every time a 'Scabbers' died.
That left just two Death Eaters to kill.
Harry spat out a mouthful of blood, "Who's first?"
The last two Death Eaters glanced at each other before turning simultaneously, casting curses as fast as the two could fire.
Harry couldn't help but laugh as the curses flew by his head, the feeling nigh indescribable. Fear. Aggression. Adrenaline. Hate.
You versus the bastards in front of you.
Harry dove backward, his wand flying through complicated movements as he did so.
The smaller of the two Death Eaters staggered backward in shock as a fissure in the earth erupted beneath his companion sending his partner screaming into the abyss.
"Aguamenti!" hissed Harry, sending a stream of water at his opponent. With practiced ease, Harry flicked his wand, transmuting the water into a spear of ice.
The final Death Eater screamed in agony as the ice spear pinned him to a wall.
"Sectumsempra," growled Harry audibly, the curse severing the screaming Death Eaters head.
A sharp clap echoed loudly in the burning alley, as the dark lord slowly made his way forward.
"Bravo," smiled the dark lord, "Bravo indeed."
Harry kept a firm grasp on his wand, as he paced in front of the dark lord, the subtle magic behind him slowly finishing its job.
"You are quite the fighter," purred Voldemort, motioning to his fallen servants, "I had not realized the quality of your organization's soldiers."
Harry gave a bloody grin, his face hidden by his cloak, "Your servants aren't exactly professionals..."
"Indeed my friend, while zealous in their enthusiasm, their fighting abilities leave much to be desired."
Harry shrugged, agreeing with the dark lord's assessment.
"Unfortunately for you," hissed Voldemort, raising his wand high above his head, "It is time for you to die."
Lord Voldemort froze, as the telltale magical backlash of a failing ward washed over the two combatants.
Harry gave a sigh of relief. Amelia had decided to focus on bringing down the anti-apparation and portkey wards instead of joining the melee. Bless her heart.
The Unspeakable was grateful for the petite woman's forward-thinking as a wave of Aurors popped into the blown-out alley, Albus Dumbledore at their head.
Voldemort snarled in anger, his handsome face twisting into a fury, "Dumbledore!"
"Tom," said Albus Dumbledore serenely.
The dark lord hissed in fury, his situation now severely outnumbered as a full Auror platoon leveled their wands at the dark lord.
"You," snarled Voldemort, his eyes boring into the tired Unspeakable, "Cower in your anonymity for now Unspeakable... I will discover your true identity... And you will suffer."
Harry didn't bother to respond, instead raising a single middle finger in retort.
Voldemort snarled at the response, before turning on his heel disappearing into black smoke.
Harry slumped tiredly onto the ground, the adrenaline slowly wearing off. As the Auror platoon made their way around the burnt-out alley, putting out fires and checking for survivors, Harry tiredly rested his elbows on his thighs taking deep calming breaths.
A dozen Death Eaters. Not too fucking shabby. Not what he was expecting when he woke up this morning but taking a look around the still-standing alley, things could've been a lot worse. A lot worse.
"Umm excuse me?"
Harry glanced up, an elderly couple standing over him.
"You're bleeding," pointed out the older woman, motioning at his arm, where a deep cut was bleeding profusely.
"Ahhh," said Harry tiredly, "Thanks..."
"We owe you our lives my friend," said the elderly gentleman, the man waving his wand around deliberately, casting a complicated healing spell.
Harry sighed in relief as he felt the muscles and sinew in his arm knit themselves back together.
"I understand your position as an Unspeakable means I'll be unable to properly thank you. However..." the old man cast a charm on the bulky ring gracing his finger, a smaller duplicate appearing in his hand, "This will mark you as a friend of the family. If you are ever in need of assistance, the House of Potter is your ally."
Harry stared blankly at the elderly couple.
The House of who?
Awww shite.
AN: So fun fact. I finally got around to watching the new Fantastic Beasts and seeing Nicholas Flamel being feeble and old annoyed me so much that it actually reminded me about this story. Also, Harry punches more people. Realistic? Not really. Life advice, never sprint at someone shooting at you to punch them. Which for some reason I made Harry do. Return fire is the best preventive medicine. Still, I thought it was fun, so I left it in. Last update until the new year, unfortunately, I go on leave tomorrow and am driving 30 odd hours across the country with the missus and the pup. I predict it will not go as smoothly as the lady predicts... Lol Once again, I appreciate the constructive criticism, you guys have been leaving some excellent feedback. I'm tracking the comma misuse I have going on so once I figure out all the actual rules and what not I'll go through and fix em asap. Once again, thanks for reading, have a good end of 2019.
Edited 17Dec2019
Edited 03Jul2020