Regulus hurried to his next destination. He'd already dumped all his stocks in local businesses, levied up his foreign ones, and made it clear to his associates that he was getting out of dodge. His old place was packed up and mostly vacated, which meant he needed a temporary place to stay the night. Zara, his vampire companion, might've been as unreliable a friend as one could count on, but you didn't dismiss warnings like the one she gave out of hand.

After way too many exhausting steps, he reached the Hog's Head Inn. There was a small crowd filling the bar, but certainly not enough for him to be worried. He made his way to the counter and got Aberforth's attention. "Excuse me. I need a single for the night."

The old goat gave him a once over. "You alright there?"

"I'm fine." Regulus straightened up. Apparently he'd allowed the general panic of the vampire's warning to reflect in his actions despite the time since the initial words. "Just need a place to stay for the night."

"Alright." Aberforth gave him a side-eyeing nod. "Gimme a sec."

As he left, Regulus settled down on a barstool and began drumming his foot against the ground. He and Octavius's new house near Vancouver would be settled by tomorrow. The movers had taken most of his precious furniture away by now, and what remained he could suffer without having if it came down to it. Zara had given away nothing more regarding her warning, and that meant he was forced to assume the worst. The fact that she'd said it after discussing his grandfather's assassination attempt spoke volumes to the danger he himself faced. He tapped his fingers along the bartop as he waited.

"Regulus?" He turned. "What a pleasure it is to see you again!"

It was Albus Dumbledore. The ancient warlock took the seat beside him, and Regulus felt like he was going to burst. Why on earth was Hogwarts' headmaster here? As the old man's brother returned, the scion realised how stupid a question that was.

"Here y'are," Aberforth said, handing over a key. "Sure you're alright, boyo?"

Regulus frowned. "I already told you I'm fine. I'm just moving."

"Does it have anything to do with this?" Dumbledore asked as he retrieved a newspaper from within his robes and set it on the bar. "Just out of curiosity."

The headline read: 'GOBLIN WAR! SHOULD YOU BE AFRAID?', and Regulus frowned. The picture below showed a goblin flashing her fangs and leaning against a wall, one hand carrying a dagger-sized sword and the other clutching some invisible magic. He skimmed over the article and it described how two religious factions within goblin society had suddenly sprung to war, then how Gringotts was 'experiencing temporary delays on financial transactions'.

"No." He hesitated. "I don't think so."

"Then what has got one of Britain's most prodigal sons leaving?" Dumbledore asked, eyes twinkling. "I'd hate to see you go."

"I never said I was leaving the country," Regulus muttered back. He considered lying to his former headmaster, but then he thought of the rumours he'd heard about the man. "I… I can't say anything important. But one of my friends said I should get out of town. Maybe you should do the same." He swallowed. "I mean, if you want. Just don't blame me for not telling you."

"I'm afraid running from wars is the last thing I plan to do," Dumbledore said, somehow making it seem like he believed Regulus while also treating it like a joke. "I'm sure Arcturus has told you plenty about how I 'hid' during the Great War, and I don't intend to do so again."

It surprised the young scion how much that actually calmed him. His family was staunchly against the mugwump's politics, but then again, they were also staunchly against Regulus himself. He didn't actually know how closely tied this goblin war was with whatever Zara had threatened him with, but it seemed like his former professor was already well aware of any danger it posed. He swallowed.

"Right. I just wanna get out of here." He stood. "If there's anything you need, let me know." There was regret as soon as he said it, but it wasn't like he didn't at least kind of mean it. "I'm going to go collect my boyfriend now."

It felt a bit strange to say those last words out loud. He usually had to call Octavius his 'friend' or 'housemate', but Dumbledore just smiled a wide smile that did wonders to confirm the gossip that Regulus had heard about the man.

"Actually." Dumbledore tilted his head up. "There's something you might be able to help with."

"What?"

The headmaster smiled. "Your nephew is facing a small dilemma, and there might be a way for you to assist him. You might not believe this, but he actually looks up to you a great deal."

"Oh." Regulus cringed at having his bluff called immediately. "I'm sorry, but if it isn't life or death, I really have to go."

Without waiting for a response, he headed to the floo, thoughts about the encounter and the newspaper rushing around his mind as he banished away the thoughts of his brother's son. Did that news have anything to do with Zara's warning? The most he'd ever thought about the Goblin Wars had come during his time in History of Magic classes, but those had all been about humans fighting goblins. What on earth would their internal battles have to do with him?

He thought about what would happen if the Ministry tried drafting him to battle, then his dismissal of the notion, next his grandfather's rage at such a thing, and finally he laughed as he vanished into the fire, making his way back home.

'Good luck to the suckers stuck with it,' he thought as he appeared at his soon-to-be former home. 'One last job and I'm out of here.'


Tonks sighed in relief as she finally plopped into her recliner. She'd changed out of her uniform and was now wearing one of her exboyfriends' hoodies and a pair of comfy shorts. There was a pot of canned soup slowly heating up on the stove, the windows to her apartment were open to let in some fresh air, and the radio was playing her favourite Weird Sisters song. Today had been as long a day as they came at the Auror Academy, and her shoulder ached with a bruise that the cheap healing tonics they gave out hadn't done too much to stop.

That idiot Macary had actually managed to land a sneak attack on her thanks to a bit of tricky apparition. He'd thrown up wall after wall between them, both standard shields and conjured objects, and while she was distracted knocking them down he'd popped up behind her and launched a bludgeoning hex at her. She'd nearly dodged, but the spell still clipped her shoulder and she was forced to finish the training match using her left hand instead.

Now she just had to hope the bruise would finish healing in time for her next Mock Battle class tomorrow.

There was still another month or so before she graduated the Auror Academy, and thanks to some less-than-frugal spending at the start of her two-year course, her education loans had already all but run dry. She was eating half her meals at her parents' place, did all her laundry there too, and the beat-to-hell recliner she was relaxing in now was the only 'real' piece of furniture she had besides her mattress and a barstool she ate at the kitchen counter on.

Her relaxation was interrupted by the sound of someone knocking at the door. She groaned but got to her feet and trudged over. When she opened the door, the absolute last person on earth she'd expected to see on the other side was Albus Dumbledore.

"Good afternoon Miss Tonks," the ancient warlock said. "I was wondering if you could assist me with something."

"I… What?" She swallowed. "What do you need?"

"Would it be alright if we discussed matters inside?" he asked. "It's of a rather discrete nature."

Was she dreaming? She stepped aside to allow the old warlock in, and he had to stoop so as not to bang his head on the doorway. It certainly felt like a dream, one of those awful ones where you were back in Hogwarts and had shown up to class in nothing but your underwear, and that feeling redoubled as the most powerful man in the world glanced about her dingy, barren apartment.

Before Tonks could muster up some excuse for the impoverished domicile, the man waved his wand and a recliner that matched her own appeared. He turned to look back at her with a twinkle in his eye. "Would it be alright if I took a seat?"

"Uh… Sure." She moved back to where she'd been sitting. "What exactly can I do for you, er, Mr. Dumbledore?"

He laughed. "Please, just call me Albus."

"Er, right. Albus," she said. "What can I do for you?"

"Well, I was hoping you might be able to assist me in assisting one of my students." Dumbledore folded one of his legs over the other. "A young man you might be familiar with, Hydrus Black."

Tonks' eyes widened. She wouldn't say she was familiar with her 'cousin', but she'd definitely heard his name before. All of her fellow trainees had been making bets on whether or not he'd win the Triwizard Tournament, and the only thing that'd stopped them from continuing was that these days it was hard to find any one who'd actually bet against him. What on earth did the boy need her for?

"Why?" she asked. "I don't exactly get along with—"

Dumbledore interrupted her by turning and waving his wand. Tonks tensed up for a moment before she realised he was saving her pot of soup from boiling her over. She jumped to her feet to go and get it, but in just a few more flicks of his wrist her former headmaster had poured the contents into a bowl and sat it down on the counter.

"Jeez." Tonks slowly settled back down in her chair. "Are you sure you even need any help?"

The old man chuckled. "If the problem were as simple as that, I promise I wouldn't bother you. You see, I actually needed your help for two reasons.

"The first is that you are, if your Academy Instructors are to be believed, an incredibly talented and creative witch." Somehow she doubted that they'd said that. The AIs never had a nice thing to say about anyone, let alone her. "Second of all, I believe it would be good for young Hydrus to have more familial faces around him. Ones that I believe will be a much better influence on him."

Tonks frowned. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm not a Black."

"I'm aware of—"

"If you're about to give me some nonsense about how I should just move on from the past, you can get out right now." She knew her hair and face were probably doing something wild as she got angrier, but she didn't particularly care. "After what those monsters did to my mother, I don't want anything to do with them."

"How disappointing." Dumbledore sighed and stood. "I had hoped that you would be less bigoted than them."

"Excuse me?"

He stared down at her and Tonks sunk deeper into her chair. "You know nothing at all about young Hydrus, and yet the moment you heard his last name you made a judgement towards him and his character. You considered him to be a villain worthy of your scorn just because of who his father was."

She opened her mouth to respond, but was too slow to come up with anything.

"Tell me, Nymphadora." Tonks winced as he used her first name. He knew she hated that. "Do you know what your mother's singular detention was for, in all her years at my school?"

"No," she mumbled.

"It was in her third year, and please, forgive me if I forget a word or two she used." Dumbledore folded his arms behind his back. "But she referred to a Hufflepuff boy as a 'dim-witted, pathetic, filthy, disgusting, mudblood,' and did so directly to the boy's face."

"What?" Now Tonks stood. "That's ridiculous! She—"

"Was not born a saint," he interrupted. "Neither was I, and neither were you." She winced and withered. "So please, learn the lesson your mother did all those years ago, and never insult one of my students where I can hear you again."

"I'm sorry," she mumbled. God, this really was a school-yard nightmare. "I just…"

"It's quite alright," he said. "But will you please allow a young man whom I have high hopes and great appreciation for to prove his quality to you?" The old man smiled ever so slightly. "Whether you dislike them or not, I promise the Blacks do pay quite handsomely."

Now that caught her attention. Just the thought of helping the evil bastards made her sick, but she wasn't entirely sure the dismal can of soup she was about to eat wouldn't do the same thing. Even once she graduated and started working at the Ministry, it wasn't like she could suddenly pay off all her debt right away, and those interest rates weren't getting any lower.

"Furthermore," Dumbledore continued. "A letter of recommendation from the Chief Mugwump goes quite a long way in your line of work."

"I don't want it."

The old man cocked an eyebrow at her, but Tonks didn't care. Being related to Sirius Black had already lumped enough expectations on her shoulders, and the last thing she needed was yet another reason for the rest of her 'peers' to sneer at her.

Sirius Black was a legend in the Auror Corp; no one, pureblood or muggleborn, was unaware of him. He was able to swat down even the most vile and powerful of criminals like they were flies, constantly defied the odds that he faced, and could crush anyone who stood against him. Even the guest lecturers who came to speak to the class for one reason or another were lambasted with questions about him, and every one of them had to give some amount of respect for the Black Sheep. Her teachers and superiors constantly compared Tonks to him like she was some second-rate knockoff.

And now Albus Dumbledore wanted her to help that man's son.

"Fine," she said after a short while. "But it can't interfere with my work."

The old man clapped his hands together with a broad smile. "I assure you it won't. We'll be meeting Sunday evening at Hogwarts, please feel free to floo to my office."

He stepped around his chair and began to leave. Tonks watched him go, but there was one last thing she had to confirm.

"Wait." The headmaster had just been about to reach for the door handle, but he turned back around. "Was that story about my mum true?"

"It was." The signature twinkle in his eyes returned. "Of course, she later went on to marry the boy she'd insulted, so I don't believe he held it against her too much."


Ashly opened the door, and stared in wonder at the knocker on the other side. It was a tall man, so tall that she had to crane her neck to look him in the eye. He had a long, winter-white beard and was wearing an orange tuxedo and a matching tie. His eyes crinkled as he looked down at her.

"Good evening!" he said. "My name is Albus Dumbledore. I was looking to speak with your husband, if I may, Mrs. Pettigrew."

"Oh." She stared up at him and swallowed. "I guess. Are you one of… them?"

"If by 'them', you mean those gifted with magic, then I suppose I am." Mr. Dumbledore stepped past her into the house. "Peter was one of my students once, and I was hoping he would be willing to meet with me. I need his assistance on a matter."

"Well, he might…" Ashly wasn't sure what to say. "I'll go get him."

Without waiting for the man's response, she left. She ran upstairs and opened the door into her husband's office, and found Peter sitting at his computer. The room smelled musty and dank, but she knew better than to try and persuade him to open a window. He was watching the stocks on what she counted as one more monitor than the last time she'd been in here, and he spun around to grimace at her.

"What?" he demanded. "What do you want?"

"There's a man here for you," she said. "He said his name is… Dumb-uhl-door or something."

Peter's eyes widened. He leapt out of his seat and tore his shirt off. "What does he want? Did he say what he was here for?"

"N-, no!" Ashly answered, shocked to see her usually powerful husband so disturbed. "He just said he needed you to help him with something."

"Why the hell does he need me?!" Peter demanded as he put on another, almost equally dirty shirt. "What did he say?"

"Just that he needed your help," Ashly offered, worried that he'd get even more upset. "You told me not to talk to people like him, so I came and got you."

"Rrrr," he growled. "Whatever. Go and get some drinks ready. And don't act so muggle-ish!"

With his last words hanging, Peter dashed downstairs and Ashly followed. She manoeuvred her way into the kitchen as her husband pleasantly greeted the apparently important man. After quickly scanning the contents of their fridge, she prepared them both glasses of iced tea. When she brought it out, Peter glared at her.

"What the hell is this?" he demanded. "You think—"

"It's iced tea!" Mr. Dumbledore said, taking the beverage with a broad smile. "And a little lemon wedge as well. How lovely."

Peter worked his jaw for a moment, but quickly settled down. "I guess."

After the stranger swished it about in his mouth for a moment, he swallowed and turned to Ashly. "Tell me, what flavour of tea is this? It's delightful."

"It's just Lipton," she said with a hesitant smile. "We don't normally have it, but I wasn't sure what to prepare for you."

"It's lovely," the old man assured her with a grin of his own. "Thank you so much."

Then he kept looking into her eyes. It felt like he was boring into her soul, but she couldn't look away. His sapphire-blue eyes just kept digging and digging into her, and her head began to ache as the singular moment stretched on for what felt like forever.

Then it ended.

Peter puffed his chest out. "Of course. What can I do for you, headmaster?"

"I was wondering if you could assist me in a certain matter," he said as Ashly took a seat on the couch opposite of him, as far away from Peter as possible. "One of my students has an issue that I believe your mind might be able to help solve. You were quite skilled with runes in your youth if I remember right."

Ashly smiled. Her husband always went on and on about how marvellous his intellect was, and now she could see it for herself. Whoever this Dumbledore was, he clearly respected Peter, and from the way Peter had moved when he heard the man was here that meant a lot.

"I guess I could," Peter said. "Who is it?"

"It's your old friend Sirius's son." Like that the peace was broken. Peter jumped to his feet, his front teeth bared like an attacking beaver, and Ashly cowered down so tight she nearly spilled her own cup of tea. "Settle down."

As if a light switch had been flipped, the air around her turned warm. She slowly unclenched, then stared in wonder around her. There was comforting heat in their den now, like an invisible blanket had been draped around her shoulders. When she turned to her husband, she found Peter's head clamped down into his sternum and his glass on the floor. It looked like his body was being crushed under some invisible weight, and the couch's sunken indent nearly had her toppling over.

"Don't test me, young Pettigrew," Albus said. She looked over at the old man as he took another sip of her iced tea. "The only reason I allow you to live is beyond your comprehension. Young Hydrus, your master in all matters but the mercy I show you, awaits. Will you assist?"

After several more seconds, Peter raised his head forcefully. "Yes."

"Good." The stranger drained the rest of his tea and handed the empty glass to Ashly. She took it with some hesitation for the fear of her husband's anger at the 'support' she'd shown. "And if I discover, yes I mean discover because I will look into such matters, any retaliation towards your wife or daughter for my presence here, I will be the one to kill you."

Like that, the warm and comforting embrace of the old man's presence had turned to an inferno. She could practically feel her house burning down around her. Somewhere she heard screams. She smelt burning flesh. She could feel her own skin turning to ash. Everything and anything she'd known was fire, and it felt like her whole body was going to be swallowed by the worst sunburn anyone known to man had ever suffered.

"Be good, Peter," Dumbledore said as the aura vanished and Ashly gasped in relief. "And be humble before Hydrus. If I were the one to end your life, you should take it with gratitude. It would be his own form of having mercy on you."

With that he left. The old man didn't even spare her a glance as he swept out of the house, his auburn tuxedo coat billowing in his wake. While the woman shook in his absence, Peter moved over to sit beside her, trembling as quick and hard as she did.

The couple sat together for a while. Ashly had always known the people from Peter's world were scary, it was why he protected her by saying not to interact with them. It was why he was so mad when she interacted with that Harry Potter boy when she went to that castle in order to cheer her Dianne on for that big quidditch game. Apparently he was the son of one of Peter's former friends. Now she knew for certain just why her man was so afraid of them.

"I'm sorry," Peter said. "I'm so sorry, little bunny."

"What?"

"I'm so sorry." He looked down at her. "For everything. I promise I'll be a better husband from now on."

She wanted to believe him again this time.


Albus banged on the door, then called, "Quinn! I know you're in there. It's me, Albus. Come out."

There was no response. The Australian sun beat down on the headmaster's neck, but he could deal with that. He was in the middle of the outback, almost literally the middle, surrounded by sand and sagebrush, and his friend was locked up somewhere in the depths of the incongruent home. Quinn Akkouq was one of the most evasive and creatively deceptive wizards he knew, one that he'd seen creeping around in the background of Hydrus's memories, which made him perfect for the current mission. He slammed his fist against the door once again.

"Please!" he called. "I just want to talk to you."

The thought of apparating all the way back to Britain left a sour taste in the headmaster's mouth, but he would have to do so if his old friend didn't answer. Even the legendary warlock was no match for whatever wards, curses, voodoo, shamanry, druidry, and other forms of protective magic his old friend would've set up to defend and hide his home. The man had dropped out of Hogwarts and then completely off the face of the earth around a century ago, and hadn't been seen by more than half a dozen people since. Even once Albus had risen to a position that could allow him to look into such matters, Quinn's status had been completely unknown to the Chief Warlock until he hit the ground looking for him. As far as the official record was concerned, the man was dead.

Finally, the door cracked open. "What do you want?"

"Just to see my old friend," Albus said. "Will you let me in?"

"Did they follow you?" Quinn asked. "You a rat?"

"No," he nearly cooed. "I told you before that I worry about you. I just want to make sure you're alright."

"Mmmmm." Quinn's lone visible eye danced back and forth. "Alright. But take your hat off. They know when you're wearing those."

Albus did as he was requested, and stepped into the hovel. The walls had been built in such a way that he suspected that his friend thought the Government, with a capital G, was able to track magical construction. They bowed and raised all over the place and if it weren't for the legendary wizard's capability to protect himself he would've worried they might collapse on top of him. Once he was settled on what he could only assume was one of the man's dining room chairs, he sat his hat on the table.

"How are you doing?" he asked. "Everything holding up?"

"I'm fine." Quinn sat down across from him, nibbling at his nails on one hand while the other drew his wand and summoned a cage that nearly bent the tip of Albus's headwear. "The goats are everywhere. I appreciate you looking after me."

Albus grinned at the misattribution. "I wish I had better control of them."

"Someday…" Quinn muttered. "You're better than the rest of us. Someday you'll figure it out. Maybe with them we can… We can do something." He stopped. "What do you really want?"

"I was hoping you could help me," Albus said. "A man travelled back in time after the world fell apart, and transformed his body to be that of a near-mirror to Sirius Black's. He's trying to be his son." He grinned. "He also took some parts of other wizards, however. He wanted to be as strong as possible to fight the darkness, but it has left him crippled by his magic imploding due to the familial powers attacking each other."

Quinn nodded. "A good man… He knows what we fight."

"He does," Albus said. "We need to either come up with a visualisation for him to still be able to use his magic without hurting himself, or find a way to reorganise the rune-network laid into his bones. I was hoping you could help."

"Help?" The insane, paranoid man turned to him, finally looking away from the window. "How am I supposed to help?"

"You know better than anyone just what lurks in the dark," Albus said. "Even better than me. You might just come up with a solution that the rest of us wouldn't."

"Who else?" Quinn demanded. Albus's former friend popped his knuckles as he spoke. "Who else shall join us?"

"Sirius Black's first-cousin, a former friend of his, and a current one," Albus said. "My brother, as well as my mentor, and my lover." There was no need for secrets between he and the paranoid man. "Yourself, myself, and Hydrus himself."

Quinn stepped away, over to a desk that had several stacks of parchment atop it. He started tossing away the papers, until he reached whatever one he was looking for, and he brought it back to the table. He sat down and began to read it.

"Hydrus Black. Hogwarts Champion. Son of Sirius Black and an unknown descendant of Salazar Slytherin." Quinn looked up at him, suspicion in his eyes, but eventually he glanced back down. "Full marks in all his classes. Several fights with pureblood families. A strong, strong potential to be one of them." The man narrowed his eyes at Albus. "You're sure about him?"

"I am." He bowed his head. "I promise. He's our man on the inside. He sacrificed everything he had to be here, in order to save us."

The other man gnawed at his thumb as he continued to stare at the information he'd somehow gathered. At least now if Albus went back empty-handed it wouldn't be so bitter a taste, but that didn't mean that he was willing to give up a ghost. Before his old friend could put up any arguments, he decided to go on the attack.

"Please," he said. "I know you ran away from the fight to hide down here, but I promise you won't come to any harm under my watch. We just need your help to find a way for Hydrus to get his magical powers to work in tandem with one another."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah…" Quinn mumbled. "Just gotta help…" Albus made to speak, but the other man cut him off. "Who does he worship?"

"What?" Albus's brows furrowed. "What do you mean?"

He silently prayed to specifically no one that this conversation wasn't about to go the way he thought it might.

"Who does he worship!" His old friend slammed his fist against the table. "What side is he on?"

Albus worried that this answer could break the constantly teetering friendship with his old schoolmate, but it wasn't like he could've figured out how to advantageously lie. "He worships Magic."

Quinn simply nodded. "Good. GOOD!" He slapped his hand against the table. "A good thing for one such as him. No messing about with Life or Luck…"

The other supposed gods went blearily over Albus's head. He'd heard Hydrus tell him about the way Magic and Death had verbally duelled, tried to provide counsel after watching the memory of it all, and came away from it even more unimpressed than the younger man had. His protege still clung to Magic's skirts, however, which meant he was still stuck trying to break him free. The last thing he could be bothered to care about were even more of them to keep track of.

"Will you help us then?"

"Yes!" Quinn began clapping, and Albus wasn't sure what to do. "I shall do all I can to support him." The man cocked his head to the side, so far that the headmaster wasn't sure it was entirely healthy. "I shall help. He's going to save us after all."

As the man began to whisper to himself about goats, Albus took his leave after freeing his hat. When he stepped outside, he was only greeted by more of the oppressive sun. It felt like just by standing in the thing's presence he was offending it, and the celestial body was doing its best in turn to cook him alive. Just as he was about to apparate away, a sound cut through the air.

He turned to the goat who'd bleated at him, and nodded.

"Quite."


Hydrus and Dumbledore made their way through the sunset-lit streets of a small city in Mexico, near enough to the border that they didn't look all that out of place despite their pale skin. What few street vendors hadn't already packed up as dusk approached called to try and get their attention, some in broken English, others in perfect American accents. The duo ignored them all as Hydrus led them to their destination.

"Oh, I'm so excited," the headmaster chirped. "I've always wanted to see one of these in action."

"Mmm." Hydrus worked a subtle bit of muggle-blinding magic to ward off a young boy who'd been about to mark him. The child would get a 'bad feeling' about him and Dumbledore, and instead of distracting them with some act while his partner or partners raided their pockets, move on to some other target. "Just don't get your hopes up. From what I remember the last time I had to get one, it's not that exciting."

"But the results are so incredible!" At least on that front Hydrus agreed. "How much do you trust this man?"

"Not in the least," he said. "I had some of my people find him. We'll get in, get what we need, pay, erase his memories, then leave."

His mentor frowned at him. "Do you really think that will be necessary?"

"It's either that or kill him," Hydrus said. "We can't run the risk of this information getting out, even if it would be treated like a hoax." A thought struck him. "Tell me, do you know what happened to Gilderoy Lockhart in your world?"

"I can't say that I do." The headmaster hummed. "I remember seeing him briefly in your memories, but here he wasn't anything more than a half-decent student." He stroked his beard. "Now I can't help but wonder what happened to him."

"Right?" Hydrus muttered. "We're here. I think. I was never the best with tracking spells, let alone ones using a rudimentary target-marker like my man chose."

'His man' was in fact one of Fenrir's pack. The werewolves were far more comfortable moving around in muggle circles, used to looking for muggleborn children to turn, and they were more than willing to follow their father's lead in serving him. Unfortunately, they weren't particularly competent. Certainly not as much as they had been in Hydrus's time.

The building they'd stopped in front of was rather nondescript, but there was a small bag tucked into the window sill that he assumed had been what he was following. He pushed open the door and found a neat, tidy lobby with a single door opposite of them and a man sitting behind a desk near it. Without looking up, he started, "Que—" Then when he did glance their way, "What do you need?"

"To speak with the doctor," Hydrus said, patting the rather large, rectangular indent in his pocket. "Immediately."

The secretary nodded and rang a bell on his desk three times. A few seconds passed before another, much older man stepped out of the back-room door. He was wearing a wrinkled white coat, was still tying his tie as he smiled at them, and the smell of hastily sprayed cologne struck Hydrus's nose like a whip.

"Buenos dias, gentleman!" the doctor said. "What can I do for the two of you?" He gave them both a once over before his eyes latched onto Hydrus's arm. "Ah, are you in need of a prosthetic? I have a few on hand that might fit, but I'd be more than happy to ord—"

"No," Hydrus interrupted. "You own an X-ray machine, do you not?"

The doctor blinked at him. "I do."

"Good." Hydrus pulled out the banded stack of cash and sat it down on the desk, already heading towards the backroom. "I need a few."


Hydrus stared back at the crowd watching him, and for once wasn't sure what to say. They were in the Study Hall, the space was slowly becoming his own base of operations within Hogwarts, and it was late on a Sunday evening. Some of them had travelled from the other side of the world to be here, others had simply walked. They were all older than his physical age, and a lopsided mix of being older than his mental age. He'd never seen such a motley group of figures, including during the worst of his recruitment waves, and it left him entirely unsure of how to proceed.

He'd been elated to see Tonks, though unsurprisingly the 'stranger' wasn't quite as pleased to see him. Remus, Aberforth, and Quinn were all welcome additions as well. The last of those three looked so much better than he had in his past life; the man wasn't convulsing on the ground or screaming about Them or anything. Hydrus was surprised and impressed to see Dumbledore had managed to get Nicholas Flamel to help, he was having to stop himself from murdering Wormtail outright, and the sight of Grindelwald had left everyone unnerved.

The once powerful and feared wizard had wrought iron chains binding his hands to each other, wrapped so tight and so repetitively that there wasn't any skin visible from the middle of his forearms to the tips of fingers. His legs were shackled to one another as well, but loose enough that he could take small, stuttering steps. He wore plain grey robes that hardly gave any bulk to his near-skeletal figure, the hair atop his head was thin and patchy, and his beard and moustache were long and unkempt. The man who'd once nearly topped the world was a shadow of his former self.

But that shadow was a long and dark one. If it weren't for Dumbledore standing beside the dark lord, bright and strong, Hydrus doubted the rest of the crowd could've stood as still as they were.

"Right then." As fine a way to start as any other. "I'm sure Professor Dumbledore has given you all some vague hints and notions as to what our aims are here." He drew an arm-length scroll from his expanded robe pocket, and allowed it to unfurl in the air. "Before I provide further clarity, I'll need each of you to sign your name, symbol, monicker, or anything else you want to go by on this piece of paper. It is not in any way, shape, or form a legally binding document, your mark will simply burn off should you divulge what you hear and learn here today."

Hydrus stared out over the mixture of impressed and bored expressions. "If your signature goes missing, I will find you, and depending on what the circumstances are, I may kill you." He glanced directly at Nicholas Flamel. "No matter how immortal you may feel."

The archaic alchemist cocked an eyebrow at him, the corner of his lip turning upwards. "You're certainly a spunky one."

"I've been called worse." He conjured up a table and sat the scroll down atop it, then summoned a pen and inkwell from the quiet side of the Study Hall. "If you don't wish to sign, that's fine. You may leave now and do your best to forget you were ever bothered in the first place."

Unsurprisingly, Remus was the first to step up. Aside from Hydrus himself and Dumbledore, the man probably knew more about the problem than anyone else thanks to Sirius no-doubt oversharing. He had a small smirk on his face as he scribbled 'Moony' onto the paper, and it brought a small smile of his own to Hydrus. The werewolf winked at him as he returned to where he'd been standing.

Next up, much more surprisingly, was Flamel. The alchemist picked up the scroll, turned it over several times, then eventually nodded and began to sign his name. Unlike the hurried scrawling of Remus, he took his time to elegantly write each letter with wide, looping strokes that left Hydrus more impatient than impressed by the time he finished.

"Young Albus told me that I might find this experience to be rather stimulating," the alchemist said. "I hope your puzzle doesn't disappoint."

Hydrus snorted. "I hope it does."

One by one the others signed the paper, until only two remained. Just as Wormtail was about to grab the quill, however, Hydrus smothered the smaller aspects of his magic and flared it. The rat seized up, and for a brief moment the time traveller wondered if even this neutered level of power was too much for him. The moment passed quickly, however, because he didn't particularly care.

"You are, without question, the only one in this room I'm certain will betray me." Wormtail's head snapped back forth silently, all but literally screaming that he wouldn't. "You may not necessarily be the only one. You may not even be the first. But I know before I even see it that your name will be burnt from that paper eventually.

"You should put your affairs in order before that happens." He reigned his magic back in. "Or don't. It's not my problem either way."

Hand shaking like an old man in a blizzard's, the certain-to-be traitor slowly wrote out his name. He fell back into place quickly, and Hydrus turned to Grindelwald who lifted his chained hands with a shrug and a smirk.

Hydrus snorted. "Feel free to share my secrets with Nurmengard's bricks and stones as much as you'd like.

"Now that that's out of the way; Remus, Rat, Gellert, and…" He glanced down to see what Quinn had written for his name. "Hircus. You four shall be one team. Tonks, Professor, Aberforth, you three will work with me directly. Mr. Flamel, you shall float between the two groups depending on whatever you prefer at the given moment."

Dumbledore had told him long ago that his own former mentor had been 'as free spirited and unchainable as the clouds themselves'. If he tried forcing him to stick to just one of the two, totally different plans then the alchemist would quickly lose interest in both.

"Our goal," he started as he removed his robes and shirt. "Is to solve a problem with my magic. Through means that I shall not reveal, I bolstered my power via runes carved into my bones." He began to channel his true power now, and his arm immediately started to pop and sizzle, large chunks of flesh wantonly immolating themselves like he had fireworks smuggled beneath his skin. "I infused myself with the power of other familial magics, and although the results were initially stable, that is no longer the case."

He stopped then returned to overwhelming the smaller portions of his magic as he pushed aside some of the remaining flesh, vanished away the blood on the spot he was trying to show, and slowly panned his rune-covered bone to the crowd. A few like Tonks and Peter immediately looked away, green faced and disgusted. Grindelwald and 'Hircus' both looked at it in fascination. Remus, Dumbledore, and Flamel all looked at him with infuriating amounts of patronising pity. Aberforth didn't seem to particularly care about it at all.

"The first group will focus on trying to find a way to modify the rune scheme itself." Dumbledore unfolded his arms from behind his back, revealing a manila folder. "Any modifications made will need to either functionally overlap, or fit in between, the existing runes. There's very little space for either option, I don't even recognize half the symbols used, and as I'm sure you can guess: I'd rather not be killed by an errant mistake. Any solution you come up with must be foolproof."

Quinn had already stepped forward and snatched the folder away. He threw it open and withdrew the first page, a scan of his skull, and turned up facing one of the hall's torches to reveal what may very well have been the most intricate set of runes in the entire world. The paranoid man's face certainly gave off that impression.

"In truth, and I mean no offence by this, I have much lower expectations on your side. I've more or less just asked you all to advance your understanding of runes by centuries." He finished healing his arm, faster than ever now that he had a work around to run his spells through. "As for the other team. We'll be trying to come up with a visualisation that will allow me to unite the various family magics together in harmony."

It was impossible for him to bolster the smaller parts of his magic enough to overwhelm the Black family's power, so he would just have to describe them.

"The first, largest, and most obvious part of my nature is my natural-born one. That of the Black family, and a mirror to Sirius Black's specific 'flavour' of it, representing darkness, coldness, and death." Hydrus licked his lips. He was unused to talking so long in this body. "From there, in what we could roughly estimate as five-percent ratios in comparison to my original magic, are the Dumbledore family magic; fire, fire, and more fire."

Helping to accentuate his point, Dumbledore flared the magic. Some of the others began to sweat, but to Hydrus it felt as comforting as Fawkes' own blazes.

"The Slytherin family magic; embodying pride, ambition…" He hesitated to add this last part, but it felt right, and that's what mattered. "And immortality. Lastly, the Potter family magic; wind, freedom, carelessness."

At least, with the exception of Slytherin's power, they were all rather simple and understandable concepts. They could even be constrained into just their 'elemental' portions and he'd probably be fine. Unfortunately, he could hardly imagine anything that brought together the 'ice' of Black magic and 'fire' of the Dumbledores. Adding in the Potters' wind brought the par down to zero. Trying to find a way to even brush up against the ambiguousness of Voldemort's power was even further beyond impossible.

But, that was why they'd gathered a bunch of the biggest weirdos and free thinkers they could find. They didn't need to make perfect sense, they just had to convince Hydrus that they were right.

"There's certainly an odd duck in that group," Grindelwald said, speaking up for the first time. His voice immediately paralysed most of the rest of the room, including Nicholas Flamel. It was quiet, dignified, and gravelly from lack of use. "Wouldn't you say?"

Hydrus grunted in agreement. 'I never should've tried borrowing that bastard's power.'

"Why the Potters?" Hydrus blinked. "Slytherin… Dumbledore… Black… All legendary families with legendary magic." Grindelwald raised an almost-bald eyebrow at him. "Why add the weak link?"

"I chose three powers to add. One, the most recent master of the Death Stick." Grindelwald's eyes widened at the lie. "Two, the last known heir to the resurrection stone. And three, the descendants of the third and wisest of the brothers."

The former dark lord grinned a smile that was missing half its teeth. "Could you perhaps use that very same connection to bind your powers together?"

"The powers do not reflect their heritage at all." Hydrus shook his head. "The only one that does have such a connection is the Black portion, ironically enough."

Grindelwald just kept smiling at him, and it was beginning to make him uncomfortable. Dumbledore cleared his throat. "I made him swear an oath to not speak unless it directly benefited our goal. He's still free to pursue other methods of communication, however, and I believe he's trying to express that he supports your choices."

Now the former dark lord turned his smile on the headmaster, and Hydrus felt a shiver of relief. He might not've been afraid of the one-time titan, but that didn't mean the man couldn't be creepy.

"Now that you all know our goals, we'll call it a wrap for the night," he said. "Collect any resources you may need, try to think up ideas, and we'll meet here next week. If you require anything, the Black family will provide; both in support of this venture, and in reward for it if we succeed.

"Are there any questions?"

He'd hardly closed his mouth all the way before Quinn started snapping his fingers, still flipping through the x-rays. "May I bring these with me?"

"No." Hydrus shook his head. "If, somehow, They found you, it'd put me in grave danger."

The paranoid man nodded sagely back at him. "Good, good. You shall go far."

"I shall try."

Tonks raised her hand. "Who is 'they', exactly?"

"Unrelated, and too dangerous for you to know." He had to really try in order to keep a smile from splitting his face as she glared back at him. "If you know, then They'll know you know, and you won't know They know you know."

The auror-to-be furrowed her brows at him, but Quinn started snapping his fingers even faster. "Spot on! Spot on!"

"Anyone else?" he asked. When no one answered, he nodded. "Professor?"

"Meepy!" There was a quiet pop as one of Hogwarts' house elves appeared. "Please escort our guests back to my office."

"Yes, Mr. Dumbledores!"

As the group began to leave, Hydrus waved for Remus to remain behind. Once it was down to just the two of them, along with the headmaster and his ex, he said, "Take these with you."

He handed the werewolf his x-rays. "I'd sooner hang myself than let the rat have them. Grindelwald and Quinn have probably already memorised the ones he went over." He'd been watching the way the former dark lord had kept his eye on the other man the entire time. "I know you'll keep them safe."

"I appreciate your trust," Remus said. "But are you going to be alright in the meantime?"

"I'll be fine." He waved his hand, and the portion of the Study Hall furthest into the practicals side exploded. Pieces of wood and stone went flying outwards like shrapnel from the destroyed training dummies, but the shards were also destroyed as he kept up his working. "I'm probably only able to call up slightly more than half of my strength without hurting myself, but I can still get the rest out if a situation is dire enough to require it."

"I see." Remus was looking down at him, lips pursed. "I promise to do my best."

"I know you will. You're a good man." He gave a smirk now. "I trust you've snuck around this castle enough to not need a house elf to escort you to a floo?"

Remus chuckled back. "Don't want to see me off?"

"I don't trust him enough to let Professor Dumbledore bring him home on his own," Hydrus said, jerking his head at Grindelwald as he did so. "I'll be going with them."

"Is that really necessary?"

"Please," Hydrus said with a scoff. "You really think those chains are meant for anything besides a placebo?"

As if to accentuate his point, Grindelwald chose that moment to dissolve them. The spindly old man spread out his hands and fingers before saying, "Tada."

"Oh." Hydrus's eye twitched as he turned to Dumbledore. "I thought you were serious about having made him swear that vow."

"As if I would do such a thing," Grindelwald said, his voice now firm and commanding. "I just don't mind playing along."

"Yes, yes," Dumbledore said wearily. "You will never be bound, never submit."

"Come now, Albus," the other ancient man said. "No need to make me out to be a broken record."

"I'll see you around, Remus." Hydrus stepped forward, not wanting to get caught up in the middle of the two old lovers' banter for any longer than he had to be. "Let's get this over with, you two."


BBaRtS


There's chapter 3 plus 27 or 3 times 10, either which way. I'm drunk af, so let's get this shit rolling.

We now know who Dumbledore brought on to help Hydrus with his problem, what they need to do. I think for my next story, I'll do a fic where Harry is mentored by Grindelwald, cus I'm having fun coming up with characterizations for him and we'll see a tiny bit more of that next chapter. I have a thematic, fitting visualisation in mind for how he can access his full power, but if someone can suggest something better, feel free to suggest it. No really, I'd love something better because it might be TOO thematic and thus lead to confusion.

On to reviews:

"I didn't like the conclusion for Harry and Magic, it doesn't feel correct in some way?" - I wasn't one-hundred percent sure how Harry/Hydrus would handle this revelation of her being less competent than he expected, but I feel like after weeks of his arm practically exploding because Magic's blessing wasn't quite as great as she made it out to be, he might not be first in line to jump on the bandwagon. Add on the fact it looks like she's asking him to sign up to go to war, which is something he's finally realising he doesn't have to deal with, and I just couldn't see him being too enthusiastic about the proposition.

"Finally caught up. I had started reading this pretty early, but then dropped off" - Welcome back! And don't worry, I swear, like, there's ten users whom I've seen follow this story in the notifications that pop up in my phone and I'm like 'Aint this the fourth time you've followed...?' I feel like it's a sign that my story swings wildly around plot wise, but that the writing is somewhat solid, so people keep following cus its decent enough but then unfollow when something they dislike happens lolol

"As for who he will bring in for the dream team, I hope it has Dedalus Diggle." - Sorry homie, I forgot who that even was. That being said, because this was the only prediction for the grouping, it definitely stands out. I might find a place for him in this or another story some day.

"I don't see current Harry as someone that would start sacrificing people left and right in the current story" - He 100% would, but only people who he disliked in the previous timeline. Despite how much we've seen people have changed in this timeline, Hydrus still clings to his past views on them. It's why he had no problem brutalizing Narcissa and Lucius, and was pleasantly surprised with Draco. As for your comments towards main plot of this story, maybe 'subplot' wasn't the right word at the point I used it. This is gone get real esoteric, but I view plot threads as just that, threads. Some of them are thin as silk, others thick as pig shit and intertwined with others. The 'god plot' is one that sort of sets the stage for the rest of the story and the rest of the plots sort of maneuver around it. The main plot is Hydrus finding his place in this world, Dumbledore trying to kinda-sorta make him happy whilst also preventing him from becoming the next dark lord, and his 'family' doing their best to fulfill their own goals.

"Is it too early to say I'm team Death? 😅" - Just don't put too much money on it. The gods (And to be clear here, there's really only Magic and Death taking center stage for this story, with maybe 1 more showing up) are 100% doing their own thing, and have next-to-no attachment to the main cast beyond what someone might feel for animals. Some find pets, some find lethal dangers, and they're all incredibly self centered.

"But I do have a question just how did these beings come into existence and there more than them?" - I'm kinda rolling with the trope of gods get more power the more people believe in them, with a dash of vagueness giving power to more generalized deities. Ie people stopped believing in Ares, but the concept of War hangs heavy in peoples minds, so maybe there's the god War out there somewhere.

Xhimera, you always leave such multifaceted reviews on this story, but this time I feel like a lot of my would-be responses/ripostes were handled by this chapter itself, so just thanks for always reading/reviewing.

"I've never read a fanfic where [Lucius and Narcissa] seemed to genuinely care this much about one another" I wanted to show that they weren't the monsters Voldemort molded them to be, while still being pompous morons.

"Hydrus is a bit frustrating. One second he's a progressive, the next a bloody handed tyrant, the next a traumatized teen, and then a veteran of a hundred battles. I think this is due to his conflicted and mis matched blessings, but that's not yet certain." - He's constantly flipping between what he thinks people will best react to, while maintaining a through-line of his actions benefiting him, because that's how Dumbledore raised him in the previous time line.

And that's that! Thanks for the reviews, love you all, less-than-three, see you next Saturday~