Chapter 17: Decisions

Harry Potter stood in front of a house.

It was much, much different than the last time he'd seen it. The side and roof was still intact, the bushes weren't overgrown, and the gate surrounding it was a pristine white.

The house was so nice, with flower beds in the early spring, neatly cut hedges, a red front door attached to the Tudor style building…

Harry's eyes glistened slightly as he wondered what it would have been like to grow up in this house. He knew Atticus Potter had grown up in it, since he'd talked about how great it was to climb the tree in the front yard and run around in the woods behind the house during their morning conversations. Harry looked up at the oak and wished he'd grown up climbing it, too.

Maybe, Harry thought, as he stepped away to go further down the cobbled lane, he could fix up the one in his time. He and Ginny could live there when they started a family, and his children could have the experiences he'd missed out on.

He didn't want to leave the Godric's Hollow house, but as he took one step, and then another, he remembered Dumbledore's words: "It does not do to dwell on dreams." He had to keep moving.

He found Bathilda's house easily. He remembered exactly where it was from the last time he'd been there. The location was something he doubted he'd ever forget. The snake coming out of Bathilda still made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end from time to time.

But, he knew Bathilda was alive and well. He'd seen her and even talked to her months ago in the Great Hall while Dumbledore showed her around the school. It was just being at the house that made him slightly weary.

Flamel had told her Harry wanted to talk to her. She was expecting him in much better circumstances than the last time.

He knocked on the door to her house. It took her a few minutes, but eventually, she opened the door.

"Harry Potter?" she muttered.

"Yes," he whispered.

She stepped out of the door to pretend to put some milk glasses on the steps. Harry slipped into the house and once she closed the door, he pulled off his invisibility cloak.

"I knew you were related to Cadmus Potter the first time I saw you," she said when she looked at him. "How could you not be?"

Harry smiled, giving a light shrug. Flamel told him Bathilda knew where he was from, but for her to say it immediately caught him off guard. The other people he'd met with had no idea he was from the future.

He guessed Bathilda was different. She knew the Dumbledores and the Potters.

"Well, come on, my dear boy, let's have a seat. Tea?"

"Yes, please," Harry said as he sat down in a red chair by the fire place. Bathilda disappeared off into the kitchen.

Harry looked around. He was glad to see that there was not a photograph of Dumbledore and Grindelwald yet. He did see a few pictures of Dumbledore that he actually recognized from Rita Skeeters book, but the photographs looked less weather worn. There, on her mantel piece, was one of the Dumbledore boys when they were a little younger. Albus looked to be about 13 there. Harry smiled, happy that Dumbledore was alive and young.

"Sugar?" Bathilda called.

"Two," Harry replied as he looked around for any photographs of Grindelwald. Finally, he spotted one on a table across the room. Here, the boy also looked to be about 13, maybe older.

"Here you go, Mr. Potter."

"Thank you," Harry said, taking the porcelain cup.

She sat down across from him, sipping her own tea as she studied Harry. He still looked around at the room, trying to spot anymore interesting photographs, but she didn't seem to have as many as she did a hundred years later.

"Nicolas Flamel told me all about you," she said. "As many questions I have for you, I'm guessing you have some for me."

He caught her eyes and nodded, putting his tea down on her coffee table. "Yes, ma'am. I've been… wondering about Albus Dumbledore, for a while now. Longer than I've been here, I mean."

Bathilda nodded, putting her tea down, too. "You know him during your time?"

"You could say we were close." Harry paused, glancing up at the portrait of Dumbledore as a 13 year old, how young and innocent he looked. It was easy for Harry to see that normal twinkle in his intelligent eyes. "But some things happened and I realized I knew nothing about him."

Her mouth formed into a knowing smile and she leaned back in her chair. "Yes, Albus has always been peculiar. Of course, all the Dumbledores are. But, Albus with his brilliant mind and schemes for the future… He's different from his brother and sister.

"The odd thing about Albus is, he seems like a normal boy until you hear him speak or see that twinkle in his eye. I see him walking down the street, just outside this house, looking like he's just casually heading toward the market, until I step outside and realize he's singing to himself! It's very odd, like he's wandering rather than heading anyway. But, he's ever so polite when I speak with him. He smiles so kindly and is interested in whatever I have to say. He always asks how my history book is going, and when I say what section I'm working on, he nods and begins giving me facts about it. Such a brilliant person."

Harry nodded along. He'd seen this all before while Dumbledore was an old man.

"I've only known him since he was 12," Bathilda went on when she realized Harry wasn't going to say anything. "They moved into Godric's Hollow then, after his father died in Azkaban. They were very private at first. I only ever saw Albus and Aberforth in their front yard. Usually Albus read while Aberforth climbed trees or ran around. I said hello to them whenever I passed by. Albus was the only one who acknowledged me. Probably around the tenth time I said hello, he came over to me and asked me what I did for a living."

She smiled at the memory. Harry could only see Dumbledore being so curious to see what she had to say.

"His words and way of speaking was very mature for a 12 year old. I told him I was a magical historian, and he lifted up the Transfiguration book he held- one that was sixth year level- and asked me when a spell was invented.

"I asked him why he wanted to know that, and he said it was so that he he could tell the publisher they'd made a mistake. I hadn't known this, but he said because spells invented before the 1500s had different types of wand movements than the ones invented after the Italian Renaissance, he was sure that one spell could not have been invented recently, even though the text said so! I couldn't believe what was coming out of his mouth.

"After that, I asked to speak with his mother. She wasn't as kind as Albus at first. She was still very nervous after what happened with Ariana and Percival that she wasn't too open with others. Albus always seemed to have questions for me whenever I passed by their house that I was spending too much time with the Dumbledores' for Kendra not to take notice of how Albus seemed to like me. Apparently he didn't talk to people unless he had something to learn from them. He's still very selective with who he speaks to."

She paused again and surveyed Harry gently, with a kind smile. She picked up her tea again for a sip.

"He must have something very large to gain from you to be so determined to talk to you."

Harry blinked, surprised. "What do you mean?" he asked. Did she mean gain in personal or common interest or what? After learning about Dumbledore in Rita's book, he wasn't sure if he wanted to know. For an older Dumbledore, wanting to know for personal interest might have been a priority, but if he wanted to know for power than Harry wasn't so sure if he should say anything.

Bathilda sighed and placed her tea down again. She looked much older in just that one second, and she no longer smiled.

"Albus is, like a said, peculiar, but so very determined. He won't stop until he gets what he wants. I doubt he would ever mean to hurt anyone- he has a good heart- but at times I wonder if his pursuits in the political realm will have severe consequences. Someone with that mind could do so much damage.

"This is my warning," Bathilda said, leaning in again. Harry's heart skipped a beat at he sudden movements and the edge in her voice. "Do not tell Dumbledore what happens in the future. Keep everything to yourself. I don't want to know a thing, but I know Albus is looking for it. There's a reason he's taken interest in you, and it's not because he's trying to make friends or keep an eye on you.

Harry felt weary- felt the same fear and unusual atmosphere as he had the night of Nagini's attack. He looked around, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end as his body temperature seemed to drop.

"All he wants is to know what will happen to him," Bathilda said, her blue eyes piercing into him. Not nearly as piercing as Dumbledore's: hers were a bit warmer and kinder in color. "He wants to know if he's Minister of Magic. Right now, all that boy wants is power. He's good at hiding it under his polite exterior, but he is a manipulator. He will get whatever he wants."

Harry looked down at his hands. "His brother told me the same last year."

When he looked back up, Bathilda was nodding. "His brother is more perceptive than most give him out to be. I'm sure if he could read and if he put as much effort into his studying as Albus does, he would be more powerful than Albus. He may be more naïve and less learned than his brother, but at least he doesn't care about his popularity or power. Aberforth is a boy who cares about his family more than anything else. He wants what is best for the people he loves, while Albus wishes only to have the highest position in the Wizarding world."

Harry nodded, feeling lost for words.

He already knew Dumbledore had believed in wanting all power, but in his time, that seemed like such a long time ago. Dumbledore had grown out of it, been more careful with how he used his abilities.

But here, he was 17 years old. He had these big, glamorous plans he wanted to pursue. He was in the midst of planning these schemes.

And it all felt more real to Harry.

As Bathilda led Harry out of her house, he felt like he was in a daze.

"I hope to see you again, Mr. Potter," Bathilda said. "Either now or in the future."

Harry barely registered what she said.

As he walked down her walkway, through the gate and down the street with his invisibility cloak on, he stopped in front of the Potters' house. He noticed a man sitting on the front steps, wearing a waistcoat. He had black hair and a face shape so near to Harry's that he had to stand there, staring at the man. The man didn't look up from The Daily Prophet, but he wouldn't have been able to see Harry, anyway.

This was Harry's great-great grandfather. Sitting there. For some reason, as he stared at the man, it hit Harry that Atticus, too, was a great-grandfather.

And they were both dead. But here, they were alive and well, just like Bathilda. Just like Dumbledore. Just like Ariana and Kendra.

Harry could feel the corners of his eyes prickle with tears. He tried hard to make them stop as he thought, in that moment, that he had to do something.

He had to stop Dumbledore from pursuing power. He knew that Ariana's death had snapped him out of it, but if only she and their mother could be spared… As long as he didn't meet Gellert…

He jerked his head away, and ran as quietly as he could to get away from the Potter house, more determined than ever.

And at the edge of town, no body heard the small pop of someone who didn't belong there disapparating away.

Harry landed in the middle of Flamel's workshop.

"Potter-"

"Dumbledore isn't going to become Minister of Magic!" Harry said immediately as he sat down at the table. He could feel Flamel's eyes on him as his heavy footsteps indicated he was coming closer to Harry.

"What did you say?" Flamel asked. "You're not thinking of changing a thing, Potter-"

Everyone thought Dumbledore was going to end up as Minister, didn't they? Harry hesitated, though, because he really was thinking of changing at least some things now. "He's Headmaster of Hogwarts in my time, because he became so scared of gaining too much power. I've already told this to Dumbledore, here, that he's a professor, but he never believed me."

"Dumbledore scared of power?" Flamel said, shocked.

Flamel drew away from Harry wearily and over to the Elixir of Epoch. He stared into it, then stirred it five times clockwise.

Harry thought Flamel seemed to be thinking too hard, as if trying to figure out how that was possible, that Dumbledore was Headmaster instead of Minister. When Harry thought about it, he wondered how much Albus bragged about wanting to have the highest position in the Wizarding world. Bathilda was right, he seemed humble, but inside he had these grand, arrogant plans.

Harry didn't know what to think. He just needed to stop Dumbledore.

"I told him you were leaving at the end of this month. He's been too interested in getting information from you," Flamel said.

Harry jerked his head up. "You lied to him?" he asked.

"I just needed to stop him, Potter. I've been withholding where you've been. I think he's loosing interest, as indicated by the fact I haven't gotten a letter from him since March. But, I wouldn't put it past him to gain that interest back if he knew you were actually staying until August."

Harry stood stock still where he was. He was sure Dumbledore wouldn't give up that easily. He hadn't given up on Voldemort. He hadn't given up on Harry, or even Snape. Dumbledore was still going to be interested, no matter what.

"You've been withholding information from me, as well," Harry said softly. He was too used to being left out of information, and was usually angered by it. But, now, he couldn't find the anger. Maybe it was a good thing.

But Harry wanted to see Dumbledore again. This was his last chance. Dumbledore wasn't even alive in his time.

"Why wasn't I told of this plan?" he asked.

"Harry," Flamel said, stepping closer to Harry again and putting a hand on his shoulder. "Let me deal with Dumbledore. His job is to be in school, while my job is to help you get out of the nineteenth century."

Harry didn't think that was fair, though. Really, he wanted to see Dumbledore again.

"What if I want to get to know him, though?" Harry asked, standing up and pushing Flamel's hand off his shoulder. "Every single person I've talked to about him- Bathilda, the Minister or Magic, Ollivander- they've all said different things about him."

Flamel closed his eyes tightly.

"Harry-"

Harry shook his head. "Bathilda warned me to stay away from him, but I already knew most of things she said; the Minister said what a wonderful person he was, how smart and gracious he was; Ollivander told me his wand wasn't at all springy, meaning that he would be hard to control or convince. What I've seen of him is different, as well."

"Of course he's different in your time," Flamel said. "I'm a very old man. I've seen plenty of people change throughout the years."

Harry nodded. "But, in my time, he was still someone who makes these mysterious schemes that somehow worked even after he died, but he was able to smile, joke about serious things, and care so much about people. He's different here, and I want a chance to get to know him now, to see even more closely how the events here formed what he became in the next hundred years."

Flamel smiled sadly as Harry paused.

Harry's mind had already been made up, and nothing Flamel said could convince him otherwise.

"I want to talk to him," he said. And change his past, but Harry would never tell Flamel that. He didn't know what happened in the past. "And I'm going to. I promise I won't tell him a thing about the future, but I have to ask him things. I should have done this earlier when I was around him in the autumn, but I have three months left here and I want to make the most of it. I don't want to hear from secondary sources anymore. I've heard enough of that my whole life. While he's here, I want to talk to him."

Flamel frowned and tried to put a hand on Harry's shoulder again, but Harry took a step back.

"I have one more thing to do, but then I'm going to Godric's Hollow at the end of June," said Harry. "I promise I won't let Cadmus Potter see me. I've hid from the darkest wizard in the world before; I think I can avoid the Head Auror."

With that, Harry stalked toward the door and disapparated again.

Harry found himself outside of King's Cross, but instead of going inside, he crossed the street to St. Pancras station, where he bought the next earliest departure for the mainland.

There was a wandmaker he needed to meet with.

A/N: So, I actually had this chapter done a week ago, but it felt really rushed toward the end.

Maybe I've fixed it? Forgive me if this chapter's not too good or rushed. I'm very sorry .

But, yeah. Summer with Gellert coming up in the couple chapters :D Very, very soon. Probably one more with Dumbledore before then, I guess? Then Harry's POV again. I don't know how many more chapters this will be. But, you will see Harry's time with the people he's talked to. I promise. I know that was kind of placed in here, but I've known for months and months that that's where he's been.

Anyway, thank you. Please Review?