The Master of Death

Strange Passengers

XxXXxX

He flickered into existence in front of the children, standing protectively over them.

A neat hole had been knocked into the wall, presumably by some great force. Two new figures now stood in the house, but through the darkness outside, Harry thought he could see glimmers of silver as others moved in the firelight. For a moment, they seemed to move towards the new entrance, but the figure in the doorway held up a hand, stopping them. The other figure, who had been moving towards the children, stopped as he appeared and shifted into a ready position, a black staff clutched in one hand.

For a moment, he just looked at the two of them, sizing them up.

The one nearest to him looked short and worn, the familiar signs of aging that he saw every time he looked in the mirror. Bald but for tufts of white around the edges and with a short beard that covered the man's face and neck, he looked more like a grandfather on a farm then a threat.

Harry knew better to underestimate him because of that. Even if he didn't look dangerous, the simple truth of the world was that the scariest people never do. His aged face didn't hide the strength in his eyes or the surety with which he held himself.

The staff he held in his hand drew his attention as well. Made of dark and twisted wood, there was nothing spectacular to it visually; no markings or decorations. And yet, it drew his attention immediately, though it took him a moment to realize why.

In his years as an auror, he'd learnt how to recognize things by the feel of them. Signs of dark magic, the traces in places where it had been used to do horrible things like torture and break and harm, but especially when it had been used to kill, similar to Dumbledore. He didn't know if it was a magic ability that he'd learnt and mastered over time, if he'd just developed a sense for it do to repeated exposure to it over the decades, or if it had something to do with being the Master of Death. He'd pondered over it a number of times, but never really found an answer; in the end, it was a useful ability that helped him do his job, so he just accepted it.

Looked at that staff, he felt that again. It had taken him a moment to recognize what he was feeling, not because it was subtle or discreet, but because it was so obvious.

If he'd seen felt on murder weapons were dark stains, what he felt from that staff was an empty darkness so deep that it was impossible to make out anything in it or separate one part of it from the others. It was an ocean of black water that did not rage or burn at his senses, but simply existed, so large that it's simply presence felt as crushing as the depths of the sea.

Harry had to wonder what you had to do to taint something that much.

It put him immediately on guard and he had to forcibly restrain himself as his first instinct was to attack.

But attacking one man without even acknowledging his partner and being wary of an attack from behind was foolhardy to the point of being suicidal.

Over a hundred years ago, when he had grown as much as he ever would, Harry hadn't been a very tall young man. A hundred years later, he wasn't a very tall old man, either. His height had never been something that bothered him and after facing a Troll, a Dragon, and a number of other huge creatures, it wasn't something that he found all that intimidating, either.

Even so, when he saw that the man had him by a foot and a half, it made him pause for a moment in simple surprise. After what he'd felt from his partner's staff, Harry immediately checked him over for any sign that might suggest mass murder or horrible crimes or sins against Humanity, but there was nothing like that on the man. Besides the company he kept, Harry didn't have anything to immediately peg on the man.

He was more than a little suspicious looking, though.

He stood dressed in a completely black robe with a cowl that was a purple so dark is was almost black as well. Harry couldn't see an inch of skin on him, he was so covered. Maybe it was because of his bad experiences with black cloaked, hooded wizards or maybe he was just nervous due to the proximity of that strange staff, but Harry wasn't going to let his guard down around him either.

For a long moment, the three of them silently assessed each other. Harry tensed as the man with the staff looked past him, at the children, focusing on the boy. He moved his wand, more to draw his attention away from them than anything else.

"Is this the warlock, Rashid?" He asked, giving him a sidelong glance. "Or is he…"

"He's no warlock," The tall man said. "Leave this place, Outsider. Return from whence you came; you have no place in this world."

"…And if I refuse?"

Rashid looked at him silently for a long, quiet moment.

"Do you remember me, Outsider?" He asked, his voice low but carrying. "Do you recall how our last meeting ended? Leave this world, or I shall kill you again."

Harry took a sudden but deep breath and then slowly exhaled; the only reaction he would allow himself.

"I hope you don't think you can make me back down by threatening me with death," He said, standing firmly between them and the children. "Because as threats go, that one was pretty good, but I've heard better."

It would be a lie to say that the threat hadn't hit home or that he wasn't suddenly wary, but…he'd never been the type of man that would back down from the defense of people he felt he needed to protect just because it would put him in danger. He'd walked into the Forbidden Forest fully believing it would be the death of him.

So he brought himself under control before he even had a chance to waver, reminding himself of the most basic rule of time travel, magic, and life in general; things are not always as they seem. Just because someone thought he died, didn't necessarily mean he did; Voldemort had learnt that the hard way. And now, he had forewarning and everything. And regardless, he wasn't going to count himself out on the word of someone he didn't even know without even seeing a body.

Besides which, technically he was already dead.

Exhaling slowly, he continued to think things through logically. He knew he had to travel into the past, so he almost certainly didn't die here and now. It would be easy to assume that made him invincible, but he knew from experience that there were a truly amazing amount of things you could live through. Surviving this encounter didn't exclude the possibility of being tortured, losing limbs, or nearly dying, just that he would likely still be alive in the end.

Best to play things safe, then. Even if he wasn't quite ready to lie down and accept his death, it would probably be smart to act as though 'Rashid' was a potentially lethal threat until he was sure otherwise.

But these two had pretty quickly made their way into his 'enemy' category.

Rashid looked at him for a long, quiet moment before nodding.

"Very well," He said, gesturing with one hand.

Harry didn't see anything, didn't detect where the attack was coming from, didn't even realize an attack was coming his way—but his feet had left the ground and he was flying backwards through the air.

Narrowing his eyes, he apparated behind his attacker—

Or tried too, at least. But as the crushing feeling of apparating came over, it was overwhelmed by a feeling of a massive weight settling over him and kept him from going anywhere.

His eyes widened in surprise as he quickly fell towards the back wall of the house.

And then the feeling passed and a silent spell halted him. Just as silently righting himself in midair, he looked back at Rashid, reassessing him even as he quickly changed tactics.

"I think you'll find that I'm well acquainted with your tricks, Outsider." Rashid said. "And that it is unwise to fight a prepared wizard."

"You know an Anti-Disapparition Jinx," Harry replied, annoyed, lifting his wand, its tip trailing with flames. "Congratulations."

Sweeping it in circular motions above his head, flames erupted in a wide circle, forcing back Rashid's companion as he tried to approach the children. Shifting the spell seamlessly from defense to offense, he quickly directed two clouds of smoke and fire towards the two wizards.

Rashid lifted a hand towards the flames and gathered them between his fingers, forming a burning ball of fire that he immediately sent back towards him. The other wizard stepped aside, gesturing to send the flames angling down towards the floor.

With a twisting motion of his wand, the two gouts of flame twisted into a pair of large Inland Taipans, which immediately bared their fangs toward his enemies—and were struck down as quickly as they'd been born, doing nothing but attracting their attention for a brief moment.

It was enough.

Harry swept his wand in a wide arc and in that instant, the air outside his circle of flames became Hydrogen.

The explosion was instantaneous. With his control over the flames he had created, he directed it outwards in a rushing torrent towards both of his enemies, removing them from his sight in a flash of blinding light.

Twitching his wand towards both of the children, he cast a Bubblehead Charm on each of them and a Flame-Freezing Charm.

"Stay here," He said, narrowed eyes still looked into the flames. The wall the two wizards had blown a hole in to enter was now completely demolished and bathed with flames on both sides.

And yet, he could still see dark shapes moving beyond the flames.

Suddenly, a path opened through the flames, revealing the same two figures, merely a bit singed.

Snorting, Harry moved forward down the path. As he walked, he swept his wand in arcs, and more shapes came into being within the parted flames. Sparks from the fire became hives of Africanized Bees, Japanese Hornets, and Malaria Mosquitoes. Large gouts of fire twisted into crocodiles, buffalo, hippos, and bears as he moved between the parted walls of flame, while smaller flames, burning like candles twisted into the shape of poison dart frogs and scorpions.

They stood for a moment, watching, before vanishing from his vision, travelling around the house at his order. They would attack the others he had seen from inside the house and, if not kill them, at least keep them busy.

He could make more as needed, so it didn't matter.

And yet…he was nervous. Because through it all, the two wizards had simply stood, calm and collected and completely unconcerned as he transfigured legions of deadly beasts.

"I'll admit," Harry said, stepping of the house. He could already hear the sounds of startled surprise and battle as his transfigured animals attacked. "I'm impressed. You claim to have fought me once and you were willing to do so again; it's been a long, long time since anyone has done that. At the very least, I'd figured you'd be getting worried by now, but…maybe I should be the one getting worried?"

He sent the tall wizard a smile to accompany his words, which wasn't returned. Or maybe it was; he still couldn't see the man's face.

"Still, while it may be arrogant to say this, but it does seem like I have the advantage, at the moment."

"Hm…?" Rashid murmured. "I wonder if that's really true?"

The man made a gesture with his hand and the temperature dropped. The flames, inside and outside the house, died in an instant. More than that, frost began to gather and spread from where the flames had died, growing by the moment as the heat continued to disappear.

No; not disappear.

It was being gathered. Rashid was gathering all the heat into his hand.

Harry raised his wand, ready to turn all the air around him into Hydrogen, but Rashid just held it there in his hand. His smaller partner, the man with the staff, glanced around as Harry sent a few of his transfigured creatures towards them as a test.

The man snorted and swept his staff—and with a feeling of suction, he tore the life out of every creature in the area. The just dropped dead, without a twitch or a spasm, falling to the ground with their life torn out. That energy was gathered as well, into the man's staff, quietly contained.

With the fires and the creatures dead, Harry could see the things they'd been fighting. For a moment, harry thought they were just 'normal' wizards with silver cloaks, if from a variety of races and nationalities, but then he noticed.

Holes through their heads, deep cuts, slit and torn throats, horrible burns and lacerations and wounds of all kind—there was no way any of them could be alive.

Around Justin's house, a cadre of dead wizards stood.

And every one of them was staring at him.

Rashid gestured towards the ground, burning a circle of fire into the ground, but before Harry could even react, he drew it back, leaving a strange, complex circle branded into the ground.

"I'll give you another chance, Outsider." Rashid said. "Leave this place. Leave the children. Get onboard your train and go far, far away. Or else you will regret ever coming to this world."

Harry watched them silently for a moment.

That was…a lot of power they'd just gathered. Enough to kill a man. Or a lot of men. If he got hit by that, it would probably be enough to kill him several times over.

Even so, he shook his head.

"I'm not afraid of dying," He said. "And even if I were, it's not my turn to die yet. And while that was quite impressive, I have a few tricks of my own."

"Indeed. What is death to one such as you?" Rashid sighed tiredly. "But it is not death I speak of. You have made enemies, Outsider. Many, many enemies. One in particular hates you a great deal. Titania is not usually one to interfere in the affairs of mortals, but I believe she would make an exception for you, Robin Goodfellow. And I do not think she will kill you. In fact, I rather think you shall live for a very, very long time. I need but open the gate and she will know you're here."

Harry pursed his lips.

"Is that what you intend to do? Hide while someone else fights your battles for you?"

It sounded juvenile even to him, but the time continuum wouldn't keep him from being tortured for days without end—and that was the type of thing he'd rather not experience. He didn't know who Titania was or how powerful she was, so perhaps she was overhyped; he'd rather not find out, if at all possible.

Rashid shrugged.

"I feel confident that I could beat you again, even if I was alone," He said, as if it was a simple fact. "But I'm at that age where I feel no actual need to prove it."

Harry was caught between grimacing and smiling at that.

"Touche," He replied. "Then open the gate and come what may. I still have a reason to stay, so I'm not leaving."

Rashid nodded.

"So be it," He said. The power from the fire and the deaths gathered between the two wizard's hands and Harry could all but feel the world groaning beneath its weight.

And then a voice interrupted them.

"Father?" Margaret asked.

Harry raised an eyebrow as she appeared again.

"What's this?" He asked. "And also, where have you been?"

She ignored him completely, just staring at the smaller of the two men. For a moment, he stared back, his face going suddenly pale before flushing red with anger.

"You dare—" He snarled, lifting his staff towards Margaret.

Rashid placed a gloved hand firmly on his shoulder before he could do anything.

"Stop Ebenerzer," He said, his voice commanding. "She's not what you think."

Rashid's hood turned enough that Harry thought he was being glared at.

"He is the Master of Death." He continued. "This is well within his power. I have seen him do such things before; he raises the dead as easily as he slays the living."

Ebenezer seemed to tremble then, beneath Rashid's hand.

"Then she's…" He whispered, breathless.

"Yes," Rashid said, releasing him. "It is one of the reasons he has been summoned so often. For every person that wishes for a warrior to kill their enemies, there are many more that simply wish to reunite with their loved ones. It is only the obscurity of the rituals that bring him into this world that keep him from appearing constantly."

"Then…" Ebenezer gave his tall friend a sidelong glance. "Couldn't we just publish his ritual—"

"That won't work with him." Rashid cut him off. "His rituals do only one thing—they invite him into this world. And he addresses all such summons personally, one by one, fulfills his summoner's requests, and then leaves."

Harry stared at Rashid flatly.

"And is that wrong?" He asked. "If I reunite people with the ones they love for just a short time, so that they can say goodbye? Is that what you're accusing me of, Rashid? If so, then be aware that I feel no guilt whatsoever, nor do I feel I've done anything wrong."

"The Council thinks only in Black and White," Margaret all but spat. "There is no room for grey of any kind in their eyes. The Laws of Magic that they hold to so tightly have nothing to do with right and wrong. Nothing to do with Justice."

Rather than get angry or deny it, Rashid nodded.

"Indeed." He agreed. "That was never what the Laws were about. They were about limiting power—and about limiting how much harm wizards cause to others and too themselves. To restrict how much they can abuse it and to keep them from being twisted by their own power. Is what you do wrong, Outsider? Is it wrong to reunite Children with their Parents and Husbands with their Wives? Not in and of itself. But there is a reason the Seventh Law is what it is. This is not your world, Outsider, and you do not belong here. It breaks under the weight of you and tears because of your presence. Cracks spread through the Outer Gates whenever you enter and exit this world. Whether you are evil or not does not change that."

"And so I have to die, even if I haven't hurt anyone or done anything wrong?" Harry questioned. "Because I exist?"

"I do not claim to be perfect," Rashid said, in that same, calm tone. "I do not even claim to be just. But what I do—what the Council does—keeps people from getting hurt. It helps save lives and minds and even souls. And in the process, we can sometimes do some good in the world. I can be content with that."

For a moment, Harry was silent.

"I can understand that." He said finally. "I can even agree with that, in some ways. But not in all of them. If I see a chance to do some good, then I'll do it, because that's who I am. I cannot change that—or rather, I do not want to."

Rashid nodded, nothing about him changing.

"I know," He said. "And I respect that. It is not many that I offer a chance to go in peace; I hold no grudge against you, Outsider. But I am who I am and this is what I must do."

"Then nothing has changed," Harry replied, rolling his wand silently between his fingers in a half forgotten nervous gesture. "But I do have one question. May I ask it?"

Rashid inclined his head.

"Behind me, in that house, are two children." Harry said. "One, a boy, is named Harry Dresden."

He looked towards Ebenezer.

"If Margaret is your Daughter, then he is your grandson. He took part in summoning me, because a wizard named Justin DuMorne bound his mind and forced him to do so. I killed DuMorne and freed him—but he broke your Laws, nonetheless. If your Council is not about Good and Evil, or even Justice…then where do those children fall under your Laws?"

Ebenezer nearly dropped his staff. His control on the energy he'd gathered broke and expanded immediately, kept in check only by the boundary of the circle.

"What?" He demanded, his voice breathless and his face pale.

"Why do you think I summoned Margaret?" Harry asked. "I did it for the boy. For your grandson. So I have to ask, what do you intend to do to him now?"

"I-I…" Ebenezer turned his wide eyes towards Margaret. "I-is he…?"

"He's my son," She confirmed, nodded firmly. "You must have known he existed, even if you didn't know where he was."

The old man looked down and nodded, not facing his daughter.

"He was enthralled?" He asked.

"Yes," Harry confirmed. "He and the girl. I removed the compulsion from his mind and was about to do the same to girl's before you arrived."

With his head bowed as it was, Harry could not see what expression was on Ebenezer's face, if any.

"Will he—" The man cut himself off, drawing a deep breath. "Will they be okay?"

Harry shrugged.

"I removed the disease," He said. "But there was only so much I could do about the symptoms on short notice. But I did what I could. Your grandson was hurt more badly then the girl had been, but with time—and baring any further damage—I think he'll be okay eventually. I can't say when, though, because—"

"Because ever mind is different," Ebenezer said, quietly. "I know."

Rashid shifted next to him, in what Harry assumed was a shrug.

"The Council will want an investigation, I'm sure," He said. "Because saying someone forced you to do it has been a common excuse for a long, long time. But if they were really enthralled then it's a simple enough matter to prove it. If what you say is true then it won't be an issue. Beyond that, I think the only reason for the Council to get involved is because two under aged Apprentices with severe mental damage are now homeless and will both need a parental figure of some kind to make sure they recover properly and to finish their education."

He glanced past Harry, towards Justin's burning house.

"Or to redo it completely, as the case may be."

"I'll do it," Ebenezer said immediately, surprising no one.

Harry glanced toward Margaret.

"Is that okay?" He asked.

For a moment, she looked pained, making Harry wonder about her relationship with her father, but then she nodded once.

"With Malcolm dead…there is no one else I can trust to keep him safe besides him."

"Are you sure?" Harry murmured. "That staff of his reeks of murder, among other things."

Ebenezer winced and looked away as Margaret gave him a smile that held no happiness.

"He's killed more people then I can count," She said. "And that his position exists at all makes the Council hypocritical. But he does what he does to protect the world and the Council—I can at least acknowledge that. And given the people who may come after my son, he's the best person to keep him safe."

Harry looked at her for a moment and shrugged. That staff made him nervous and it felt disgusting—but then, his hands were far from clean, too. But if what she said was true, then she had a point. The children probably wouldn't be safe anywhere without someone powerful protecting them.

And besides, she was the boy's mother and he the boy's grandfather. It was kind of their choice, even if it did make him a bit unhappy.

But…

"And what about the girl?" He asked. "As far as I know, she has no living family of any kind and she'd been sent to in an orphanage before Justin found her. I could bring up her parents to ask them if she has anyone else, but she'll need protection too, I imagine. Who will protect her?"

Ebenezer glanced at him, before looking at the house, as if he might see the girl by doing so.

"Who is she?" He asked.

"Her name is Elaine." Harry said. "She's your grandson's lover."

The man twitched and shuffled his feet.

"If she has no one else…"

Harry nodded again.

"Very well," He said, lowering his wand. "If the children's safety can be guaranteed, then I have no reason to stay. If you can promise that, I shall go—after I heal the girl, of course."

Ebenezer was silent for a moment, and Harry was slightly annoyed to realize he was suspicious of a trap. The old man glanced at Rashid, who nodded without taking his eyes off of Margaret.

"Okay," Ebenezer said, finally. "Deal."

He made to step over the circle, but Rashid spoke up, stopping her.

"Margaret Dresden," He murmured. "Who exactly are you worried will get your son?"

Her face twisted, as if she weren't sure whether to smile, frown, or grimace and had decided to attempt all three.

"You already know that, don't you, Gatekeeper?" She asked. "The same ones that seek the destruction of your Council. They call themselves the Circle."

"And they are the one's who hunted you down, were they not?" Rashid asked, receiving a nodded. "Interesting…by any chance, is there anything you'd be willing to share about your former associates."

A wicked light blazed in Margaret's eyes.

"A few things, I suppose," She said, in a faux bored voice.

XxXXxX

Harry looked quietly out the window of the train, face pensive. Outside, Rashid and Ebenezer watched him quietly, waiting for him to leave.

They weren't what troubled him. They just wanted to make sure he was gone before calling their Council, hoping to avoid trouble. He'd healed the girl and was confident she would recover completely, in time, so that wasn't the problem either.

Instead, he was concerned about what Rashid had said.

'This is not your world, Outsider, and you do not belong here. It breaks under the weight of you and tears because of your presence. Cracks spread through the Outer Gates whenever you enter and exit this world. Whether you are evil or not does not change that.'

There was no proof to support what Rashid said. No cracks had appeared in midair, nor had strange and horrifying things like rains of blood and biblical plagues started happening—nothing he would have associated with something being horribly wrong with the world. Really, he had no reason to take Rashid on his word alone.

Hell, the man had claimed to have killed him before and was willing to do so again. That wasn't the type of person he usually listened to.

And yet, what reason did Rashid have to lie? He really hadn't seemed to hate him or anything, though it was hard to tell with that hood covering his face. And it was possible he was just really good at hiding his emotions. Harry couldn't say for sure whether the man had reason to hate him without knowing what had happened in the past, though.

But then, what about Ebenezer? He might have gone along with it just because Rashid had asked him to—and there was still that vile murder weapon he carried around—but Margaret had seemed to trust him. She'd said he did everything he did for the sake of the Council and the world; since she knew the man far better than he did, Harry had no choice but to take her word for it.

But in the end, even if he had no reason whatsoever to trust them, he'd still have to consider what they'd said; because what if they were right?

"Is something wrong, sir?" His companion asked.

Harry continued to stare out the window for a moment before straightening.

"That man—that tall one out there—he said something that worries me." Harry said. "But now that I think of it, maybe you know the answer."

"If I know, then I would be happy to tell you, sir," It said. "What troubles you?"

"He called me an Outsider and he said that by existing in this world, I damaged it. And he said that when we entered this world through the 'Outer Gates,' we widened the cracks in it. I don't know for sure what that means or what that would do, but…is he telling the truth?"

It tilted its head in a gesture Harry presumed to be confusion.

"I'm…not sure what that means, sir. I will say that I have travelled to many, many worlds and have never seen such a thing happen, but for all the worlds I've been to, there are countless more that I haven't, and I would not presume to know how every world works. This world is strange, in and of itself, because it restricts entrance and exit so fiercely."

Harry pursed his lips, glancing to the floor.

"Assuming for a moment that what he says is true," He said. "What would that mean?"

"…If were really are widening the cracks in this world every time we enter, like water running through them," It said, slowly, as if pondering the words even as it spoke. "And if these Outer Gates are what I think they are…then, indeed, our presence here would be a bad thing. If so, then that would also explain why entering this world is so much more difficult than most."

"If we leave cracks every time we enter or exit this world, what would happen if we left enough cracks and the gates fell?" Harry pressed.

At that, his companion became quiet for a long moment.

"If they fell…if the boundaries between Shape, Location, Communication, Identity, and all those things were to break apart…I can't even imagine, sir. At the very least, this Universe wouldn't be anything like it is now, if it was able to continue existing at all."

"Yes," Harry sighed. "That was what I figured."

"But, um, sir…if that's true, then we should leave as soon as possible," It said. "I can inform my superiors and we can quarantine travel to this world, as well as see if it can be fixed."

"Oh, by all means, you should inform your superiors," Harry said. "And anyone else that might be able to help. But I'm afraid it's not as simple as that. Remember, we've already been to the past in this Universe. If we appeared in the past, but never went to the past—that is, if we leave this Universe right now and never return—then that would create a paradox, wouldn't it?"

"Ah!" His companion said. "Yes, sir, I suppose it would. How bad would that be, sir?"

"Bad," Harry said, seriously.

"Worse then causing damage to the Universe?"

Harry shrugged, unsure.

"Generally, people avoid trying to find out, but there are theories. And while it's obviously unproven, one of them is that it could destroy the Universe."

"If we try to preserve Time, then we crack the world, but if we preserve the world we crack time? Is that how it is, sir?" It asked.

Harry nodded grimly.

"What about what you said earlier, sir? About how everything will work out, because it has worked out, temporally? What if we just leave; is it possible that everything will work out anyway? Maybe someone else did it and they just thought it was you?"

"That might have worked," Harry said. "If Lea hadn't called me Harry Potter and if Mab hadn't given me this letter. It might have been feasible for some who looked like me to have done everything, but someone with the same name, the same title, the same knowledge, and the same face? That's pushing it, somewhat."

It sighed.

"If that's true, then why—" It paused, trying to figure things out. "Why did future you travel to the past back when what was happening now was his present?"

It said that words with the helpless, confused shrug, but Harry understood anyway.

"Back when the future me was sitting right here, having this conversation? Well, naturally, he'd learnt he'd gone back in time, spoken to Lea, and received a letter from Mab, just like I did. As did his future self and his future self's future self."

"But someone must have done it before anyone else," It protested. "The first person to travel back, before all the one's after him."

Harry shrugged.

"I don't know. Maybe time itself did this. Or some being out there that hates us. Or perhaps that version of myself was just a prick. But I really have no idea."

"I'll just—I'll just try to explain the situation to my superiors," It said. "Are we going back in time, then?"

"I suppose," Harry said, tiredly. "Since the Universe still exists, it's obvious that the damage we did today and in the past didn't destroy it. Creating an unknown number of paradoxes, on the other hand, might. Hopefully, we don't have too much work cut out for us."

His companion silently handed him a paper.

Harry looked at it silently.

"One day, I'm going to catch up to myself," He said. "And I'm going to regret I was ever born!"

"Like we do now, sir?"

"Yes," Harry said. "Exactly like this. In fact, this is probably what I'm going to do to myself."