Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Harry Potter.

Chapter 5: Doubts

"Have you gotten the potion items, Harry?" Dumbledore asked him after he knocked on his door and was let in.

It was after Potions and Dumbledore had just went by Merrythought's office with Fawkes perched on his shoulder, but she said Harry was in his rooms. He made his way there, knocked on his door, and entered to see Harry sitting on a red chair with a large piece of parchment in his hand. That parchment was the same as the one Dumbledore had seen him have out days before in Merrythought's office, right as they were about to go down to Hogsmeade.

"Yeah," he said, standing from a chair.

As Harry went through a book bag lying on his desk and pulled out each potion vials, Dumbledore glanced at the parchment sitting haphazardly on the chair. It was blank. He had sworn last week that something had been written on it.

"Dumbledore," Harry said. Albus glanced up and smiled.

"Thank you, Harry," he said. He took a mokeskin pouch out from his robe pocket and carefully stuck the vials in and tied them to Fawkes leg. In an instant, the bird's weight had lifted off Dumbledore's shoulder and he was gone.

Harry folded the parchment and exposed his own mokeskin pouch around his neck. Dumbledore had borrowed his from Flamel, which only opened because Dumbledore had permission from him to use it. To see Harry own one was surprising to Dumbledore. They were very expensive. Dumbledore didn't think he'd ever be able to buy one himself.

But, just as quickly as Harry had brought it out, he hid it again. Just like how fast Fawkes was gone.

"How has your week been?" Dumbledore asked. "The classes?"

"They've been going well," he said as he sat. Dumbledore waited for an invitation, but when he didn't get any, he crossed his arms behind his back. "I had a defense club in my fifth year when we had this awful teacher. My friend Hermione asked me to teach it. I like what Professor Merrythought's doing, though."

"Yes, it looks like you've had experience. I particularly liked what you did with the Unforgivables. The last was very noble of you."

Harry shrugged. "I can't kill. It's not fair, is it? Oh, I'm sorry, have a seat." He gestured to an identical chair across from his and he took it.

"Thank you. Have you had to use Unforgivables before while you were an Auror?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yeah, unfortunately," Harry said, although Dumbledore got the feeling Harry was lying somehow. He just didn't know how. "I've used Imperio once before. But it was only because I had to as a last resort. I've only used Crucio twice. The first time, it didn't even work, and the second time, it just made person to pass out. I'd never use Avada Kedavra."

Albus considered him, his fingers slipping together. "Were they absolutely necessary?"

Harry looked up, but then away with weariness. "If your future self knew about it, than you'd probably be disappointed. But, yeah, all were necessary."

"I don't know my counterpart. Although, I would rather like to think I haven't changed much, I believe that if that's all you could think of to do, then maybe it would have been best to rethink that. I, myself, hope to never have the circumstances to cast the curses. I know of Dark magic, but I would never use it against someone."

Harry nodded, but averted his eyes in a way that told Dumbledore he didn't believe what Albus was saying. Did something happen to cause Albus to do Dark magic? No. But what if it happened?

"I can't stand Dark magic, either," Harry said. "It's just, the future- I can't say anything about it, but it's not at all like it is right now, especially in Hogwarts."

"That's quite alright, Harry. There's no need to say more."

Harry let out what Dumbledore thought was a sigh of relief. Dumbledore smiled.

"You said you were related to the Peverell's?" Dumbledore asked.

Harry shifted in his chair, clearly uncomfortable with the change. He wondered what he knew, but Harry hadn't looked him in the eye once. "Er, yeah, I am," said Harry. "But, really, aren't a lot of wizards and wizards? I mean, the Blacks have these lines. There are cousins of cousins. The Peverell's were pure-blood. I'm a Potter. I'm related by all sorts of marriages."

Dumbledore nodded. "I see. But you do know of the Peverell's, what they did?"

"Of course."

Harry stopped after that. Dumbledore frowned slightly. A long minute passed. Dumbledore started to hum, and was finally interrupted by Fawkes popping back on Dumbledore's shoulder. Dumbledore reached up to untie the letter on Fawkes' outstretched leg. Dumbledore read it quickly. "He says thank you for your time in fetching the potions. Those are needed in the first phase of the potion. I'll bring you any updates if he sends any." He stood. "Thank you again." He nodded and disappeared with Fawkes out of Harry's office.

In his dormitory, only Elphias was there with his quill and parchment out. "Did you get everything?" He asked as Albus shut the door.

"Yes," he said with a smile. "He got exactly what Nicolas needed."

"Did he say anything else? Or did you just get them from him?"

Albus shook his head as he took his potions book from his school bag and opened it up to start on an essay Professor Glumage assigned. "We talked a bit about his past experience with Unforgivables. Amazing, really-" and he told Elphias about what Harry told him. He intentionally left out the part about the Peverell's before he ended with: "I could tell he was getting uncomfortable so I left when Fawkes came back. He didn't want to say too much about the future. For that, I don't blame him."

"Me, either," Elphias said, shaking his head in disbelief. "He really cast the Unforgivable's three times before?"

Albus nodded. "I got the feeling he wasn't being entirely truthful when I asked him if he did them as an Auror. Either he really did cast them as an Auror, or he cast them before he was."

"What? You think he's Dark?"

Albus waved that off with his quill. "I just can't imagine the circumstances of why he would need them before. Why would he have to control someone and why did he need someone to hurt, twice? I'm also still very concerned about what kind of event happened that would give him that scar."

"Why don't you ask him?"

"I don't think he would be very truthful with that either."

Albus paused and thought hard. How could he get Harry to talk? He knew that would be wrong, but he wanted to know. Harry seemed to know plenty about him, shouldn't he have the right to know something about Harry? Besides the fact that he could afford a Mokeskin pouch or even be good enough at Defense to become a full Auror at 18, there was obviously more to him than that. "Did I tell you he called me 'Professor Dumbledore' when I first saw him?"

Elphias jerked his head up as if surprised. "No. I thought for sure you'd work in the Ministry."

"Me as well," he said with contemplation. He could see himself as a professor, but as he had already had three job offers from the Ministry, he couldn't help but wonder what had drove him away from those offers in the International Confederation of Wizards, Department of Mysteries, or a position as Junior Assistant to Minister of Magic. Those jobs were highly ranked jobs within the Ministry. Why would he give up that to be a professor of all things? Of course, he loved Hogwarts. This was where he found his abilities, but he couldn't imagine any reason why he'd give himself to the school rather than the Ministry.

"Maybe it's best if we don't know," Elphias said. "I was reading up on what the law says about time-travel. Time-travelers could get sentenced to a lifetime in prison if they change anything. Although, I can't imagine how anybody could prove that unless they took their memories."

Albus frowned. "I wonder if this was meant to happen. Do you think everything will be the same after Harry's here? I mean, only you, Nicolas, and Merrythought know he's here from the future other than me. I heard Atticus Potter saying the other day that he had no idea who Harry was. He said he wrote to his parents about that, asking if he was a long lost cousin."

"Did he get a reply?"

"I don't know."

Elphias didn't say anything about that. "We all could get arrested, too, if the Ministry knew we were aiding him," he said. Dumbledore sighed with weariness. "They would wonder why we didn't hand him in. Really, why didn't you hand him into the Ministry? Why did you take him to Merrythought?"

"I knew he would end up in prison if we did that," he said. "He was involved in an accident. He didn't voluntarily do this."

"What if he did, Albus? What if he wanted to change something?"

Dumbledore shook his head, but even second after, he wondered. What if Harry needed to change something? What if this was intentional? But, no, Harry wasn't an Occlumens. He wasn't at all good at lying. Albus doubted he had lied much.

"What would he change, though? Is something that happened a hundred years ago in his time really worth coming back for?"

Neither Elphias nor Albus could answer that. "Although I shouldn't know anything about him," Albus said, dipping his quill into his ink bottle. "I intend to find out."

Harry watched the door fall closed behind Dumbledore's back. He leaned back in his chair with weariness because of the fact that Dumbledore was asking about the Peverell's. He should have never said anything about that when he first saw him again. That wasn't the worst of it either:

Merrythought had sent him to take a vial of Mandrake leaves to a certain third year Slytherin named Horace Slughorn the day before.

"Why am I giving this to him?" Harry asked her, holding it up to his eyes in an attempt to stop a reaction to Slughorn's name.

"I confiscated it from him last Friday," she had said. "I finally got him to tell me what potion he was making with it. All it ended up was a tonic to relieve an eye infection he has." She waved it off with a smile.

Once Harry was out in the corridor, he checked to make sure no one was around, then, he pulled out a blank sheet of paper from his mokeskin pouch. The Marauder's Map was one thing he was glad he had had with him when he fell into the new time-turners. Harry said, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," and lines began forming on the page, twisting and turning until the plan of Hogwarts was formed completely.

Harry liked to constantly study the map. It was a habit he formed when he was running from Voldemort and the Ministry. He always watched Ginny's dot move around on the map.

Now that Ginny wasn't at Hogwarts, or even existed yet, he merely watched the dots. Each time a familiar name like Black or Potter or even Scrimgeour came up, he felt his heart skip a beat. It was nice to see familiar names in a place that was so different.

But, quickly, Harry checked to see where Slughorn was and found his name in one of the potions classrooms, all by himself. Harry went off to find him.

There was a large boy standing stirring the contents inside of a streaming cauldron when Harry entered the classroom. Harry waited carefully by the door until his stirring stopped.

"Er, Horace Slughorn?" Harry asked.

The boy turned and Harry could see a shadow of his much older counterpart in his round face.

"Hello," he said, his voice young, but deep at the same time.

"I was asked to give this to you," Harry said, holding the vial filled with Mandrake leaves up.

"Oho! Yes, thank you," he said with a large smile as he came to fetch it from Harry. Harry was over a head taller than him, but Harry could remember that Slughorn stood just above his head later. "Did Professor Merrythought finally see reason or did Professor Glumage persuade her?"

"Dunno," Harry said. "She just said to give it back to you and that you were using it for an eye infection?"

Horace waved that off as he shuffled back to the cauldron. "I've never seen you before. What's your name?"

"Harry Potter," he said.

"Oh, Merrythought's new assistant, right? I've heard of you. You wouldn't happen to be related to Atticus Potter, would you? His father is quite powerful at the Ministry. He's in one of the top Wizengamot members."

Harry was surprised at that. "Is he?"

"He is," he smiled as he slipped the vial Harry had just given him into a kit next to his cauldron. "He's about five seats away from being head of the Wizengamot, but I doubt he will be."

"Why do you say that?" Harry asked. "Didn't you jut say he's one of the most powerful members?"

"Well, he is," his face cheeks turned a little red and Harry wondered if he knew much about the Wizengamot. Harry, himself, didn't know all that much, but he was learning after being in the Ministry for three months. Harry doubted that would be the same in Dumbledore's seventh year, though. "I've heard you've been talking to Albus Dumbledore?"

Harry nodded. "I have been, why?"

Slughorn started to chop some ingredient on the table. "He's going to do great things. He's already had over a hand full of job offers with the Ministry. You wouldn't believe the awards to his name. How did you meet him?"

"I've known him for a long time," Harry said. "We're only a year apart."

"Has he talked to you about the greater good yet?"

Harry, taken aback, shook his head. "Why? What has he told you?"

"It's a good idea," Slughorn said. "But not at all possible. We met in the library at one point. He was reading this massive book, this big-" he held his hands out about five inches apart. "He said it was a book about this idea that if something produces happiness for a majority- I mean, more along the lines of self-interest- then it should be followed by all. He said I was too young to understand."

Stunned, Harry didn't really know what to say. This Slughorn was a little more outspoken. Harry wondered if it was because he hadn't said anything that he regretted like he had with Voldemort about the Horcruxes. He probably hadn't learned his lesson yet, like Dumbledore hadn't learned that death was inevitable. "Are you sure that's what he said?"

"Not exactly," he said. "That's all I've talked to him about. I was just interested in what he was reading." He paused and pushed the ingredients he was chopping into the cauldron. "I would really like to stay and chat, but this potion is about to settle."

Harry nodded and with that, backed away out the door and made his way back to Merrythought's office to tell her he'd delivered the leaves to Slughorn.

Harry thought about what Slughorn said the rest of the day, but eventually forgot about it until he talked to Dumbledore about the Peverell's. Merrythought was right, Dumbledore needed to be more careful. He was beginning to get in over his head. Harry could tell. He was asking too many questions and thinking too many things at once. He just never let on to anyone what he was thinking and that worried Harry.

Merrythought had said exactly what needed to be said to Dumbledore, not to Harry. Someday someone would get hurt, and the one who would get hurt would be his own self, but what was even worse was that his sister would be the one that got killed.

Harry wasn't sure what to do. He didn't want to wait until the end of the year, but he very well might have to. There wasn't much he could do, except wait until Kendra died.

But what if Harry could stop her from dying?

That would change too much. But, he questioned his determination he had when he first got into the past to just let things go as they originally planned.

There was no prophecy that said he had to do this. Dumbeldore hadn't set a plan for him like he had done with the Horcruxes. In a way, this was like his pursuit of the Deathly Hallows. He shouldn't have searched for them. That wasn't what Dumbledore's plan was, but it had been tempting.

As always, Harry's desire to save people was too much. He wished Hermione were there to tell him it was a very bad idea to get involved. But he couldn't let Kendra or Ariana Dumbledore die.

Harry stood and paced for a bit. Eventually, he shook his head and went onto Merrythought's office, but he wasn't sure what he would say to her.

"So," she said after Harry sat by her on the couch. "I just read the essays the seventh years did and I was thinking about talking about what they wrote, mostly because they all wrote about the same instances." She shook her head. "The library has so many more documentation about the Unforgivables.

"The only ones that really got into deeper ones were Dumbledore and Doge. I can understand Doge because he's very good at laws, but Dumbledore… I don't know where he got his information. There was one theory he wrote where if an evil curse touches someone, it leaves a mark. I've heard of inside with the mind, such as an over done Crucio. I've never heard of that before."

Harry's heart skipped. Did Dumbledore already figure it all out already? Harry hadn't even said anything to him about himself, except that he was an Auror and a descendent of the Peverell's. If Dumbledore did figure it out, that was not good. Not good at all.

Harry kept quiet as she went over the plan for that class. It wasn't really anything Harry needed to help with. He listened half-heartedly while he thought about Dumbledore.

Dumbledore really didn't need to know about his future, but it would be too cruel to say, "Oh, by the way, your mother dies and your sister dies next summer. Don't mess anything up." Even subtle hinting would probably be bad. Harry really didn't know what to do.

He still wasn't sure if he should say anything at all.

"Dumbledore's going to see Flamel this weekend," Merrythought said, causing Harry to turn to look at her. "I was hoping you'd go meet Flamel with him since he is working on a potion for you."

Harry only nodded and with that, tried to figure out what he should do. He really missed Hermione.

A day later, Albus was sitting near the hearth of the fireplace in the Gryffindor Common Room. It was late in the night and Elphias was with him again.

"Could you hand me that small screw-driver, Elphias?" Dumbledore asked. He would have gotten it himself, but it had rolled when he sat it down five minutes before.

"Will this device really be able to capture light when you're done?" Elphias asked, holding the driver out to him.

"I, er, hope so," he said. This project was given to him by Flamel who wanted Dumbledore to find a way to do so. He knew Dumbledore was quite mechanical, having been taught by his father when he was younger, so with the fire knowledge he'd taught him, Dumbledore was now supposed to hold fire within a device by compressing the matter and trying to contain it with minimal magic. Mostly, at the moment, the device was only a mishmash of metal and screws. "Flamel wants to see what I've done so far on Saturday when I visit his shop. I was thinking of bringing Harry. Do you think that's a good idea?"

Elphias shrugged and leaned back against the edge of the maroon couch. "It could be a good thing. Maybe Harry could ask about what's going on? He seems to have a lot of questions."

"Yes, he does," Dumbledore said slowly as she screwed in another screw into a rounded piece of metal. He flicked the dial, but it merely clicked and did nothing. Dumbledore wondered about Harry as he flicked the device over and over again, trying to figure out what else was needed. He'd drawn out a plan, but he hadn't been certain that it would work. Harry needed to know what Flamel was doing. It was only fair. "I'll bring him."

Elphias nodded and, with that, Dumbledore continued to click the device.

AN: I hope Harry's section wasn't too weird. He's actually very difficult to write. And the greater good thing. I had to scrounge around Wikipedia for what it really meant. I can't really understand politics very much.

I think the next chapter will be longer and it should be up very soon because I actually know what I'm going to write! This felt more like a transition chapter of the character's ideas than anything else.

Anyway, I hope you all are having a good day on whichever day you're reading this. :)