The time and dimensional travel with Hermes and Chronos' permission went without a hitch. The ritual only required his blood, freely given; and an animal-part sacrifice of the current era he would travel to—a basilisk fang that once upon a time pierced his skin and took in his blood. He didn't want to travel to any period beyond his destination, now does he?

He wrote the runes needed for the ritual in a perfect manner. The nature of rituals is the intent and the medium it is created from. Thus, the runes for the medium and the chant that comes with it need to be apt for the travel, otherwise he could travel between worlds, lost and unknowing of the horrors of cosmic space. He shuddered at the thought, not the best way to go, if he says so himself.

In all his years as an Arcane Mage, he has seen much. Sometimes he just needs to forget. Maybe he does. But some of what he has seen throughout human history will always leave an imprint on his and mind soul. Being the Master of Death does that to one's self, it seems. But, longevity comes also with knowledge.

In the years between boredom and war, he was a scholar. He chuckles at the memory. A scholar? The Harry Potter? Hermione would have a fit! But it is true. He searched for knowledge that is lost but also less traveled. Magicks that can shape reality, to command the elements, create illusions, to create Bursts, and even domains (such as Gods do), and Harry flourished. He not only gathered knowledge, but also embraced the culture that magic shaped across the Globe. Rich history in between, the social aspect also comes with it. He also knows the dangers, lived the dangers, that these magicks carry. It is much as a blessing and a curse. These are spells that can turn he tide of battles, but also consume the user without proper protection for the mind and soul, or it is consumed before the spell is finished. He understands why such incantations and rituals were lost to the winds of time itself.

People just kept dying. He almost laughed at the situation if it wasn't so serious. Almost.

Regardless, he found this ritual some hundred years ago which confirmed for him the existence of the Pantheon and their chosen domains across the Universe and the whole Multiverse. Because of Death's timely interference, his ritual for time and dimension travels would have guidance with the express permission of the Gods in charge. He thinks it's sort of a passport in a sense. Not that he travels dimensions frequently by any stretch, but a good analogy can be a good sort of comparison.

The ritual itself is simple, thus the need for sacrifices of the time of origin to pinpoint where he is going and the Gods will do the rest. It's a good thing that he has a good rapport with the Pantheon, otherwise he'd flop around for thousands of years just to get to his destination, or worse. He also knows that this is going to be painful. His body isn't the same it used to be. Despite being immortal his body still aged until to a point, and his various adventures whittled down his body a little more until he's using a cane to walk but still retain his strength. Being old doesn't mean he's useless, he's just using his age as a weapon as well. How can he be badass if he can't move?

He's in his basement, hollowed and expanded magically to look like a ritual circle for his various uses and to keep magic flowing. Once he gets back to his old time, it's the first thing he's going to prepare. Rituals of purification alone is worth the while, after all. Anyways, the runes are prepped and carved to perfection. His intent solid in his mind. His trunk in his pocket as well as the Hollows. His house devoid of wards that has stood as a bastion of his home for a thousand years.

Harry dipped his finger in his blood from a container and drew runes around his body before it goes stale. These are stabilising runes to keep his body from deteriorating during the crossing of worlds and traversing sands of thought that it was overkill to do, as he was immortal anyway, but for such an undertaking, he might as well not risk anything.

With deep breaths he started to chant, almost singing the same words over and over as the magic coalesces around him.

"Daeda Hermes di Chronos, astöri do blodh" —Lord Hermes and Chronos, welcome my blood.

"Doimon du Gar, Sé ono finna" — Dimension and Time, may I find a guide!

"Vel eïnradhin iet ai, Harry Potter." — On my word as Harry Potter.

"Surgh mo mor'ranr" — I seek peace.

"So mot it be!"

A flash of blinding light was seen.

He woke up with a start to the sound of crickets around him. He sighed. He made it then, he thinks. Harry Potter brushed his sides and his hands before standing up taking stock of his surroundings. A trunk, a cane, and his wand-staff.

His belongings were all in a magical trunk filled with books and scrolls of all kinds. Knowledge forbidden and the Arcane haphazardly put together to rival that of libraries of Hogwarts and most of the schools of the World. Too bad Alexandria truly burned down centuries ago, he has missing pieces that needed translation. But that's for another time

The old man took in his surroundings and found that he landed near where his ritual circle was created. Luckily, he was not buried underground for that one.

"Tempus et Data" Harry enchanted to the air.

7:50: July 31, 1994.

"Happy Birthday to me, then. What is one more?" Harry chuckles as he gathers his things around him and inspects his blood runes to be erased from existence after this trip. No need for errant Mundanes and the extra wizard or witch to copy Ancient Runic Letters. 'They'd blow up anyway', laughs Harry internally thinking whether unleashing the Ancient language would be a great prank to Humankind.

He thought for a bit. "Nah," Harry waves his hand nonchalantly. He stretched his arms and took his cane, and popped out of existence.

And appeared right outside the same pub that he went to two thousand years into the future.

"It really is the same" laughs Harry. After 2000 years, the Leaky Cauldron served as the Mundane gateway to Diagon Alley and beyond for Avalon. Mundanes have progressed so much in that time, but witches and wizards could not let go of tradition, even if it was for a dingy, old pub like the Leaky.

He slowly limped towards the establishment all the while casting a mild Notice-Me-Not charm on his person to ward off curious onlookers. Not that there are many people around this time of day. It's still morning, and there are only tenants of the pub having their own breakfasts or the occasional day-drinker. Harry walks towards the entrance to Diagon while discreetly greeting the barman, Tom or whatever his name was in this time.

He glimpsed who's at the bar, and yes, it's old Tom the barman alright.

He taps his cane on the bricks for the patterned entrance.

"Old fashioned," said Harry. In his time, one small scan of the signature of a wizard and the bricks slid in opposite directions. But it's still interesting how things have changed in the far future. He might even brings some stuff here if time permits, he muses.

The old man then crosses the open brick wall towards Diagon. He vaguely remembers his years here as a student, but the colors and beautiful sights of the Alley still brings warmth to his chest. The Alley serves as a hallmark of wizardry and commerce across the globe. Regardless of its size, the Alley is one of the oldest magical settlement in world barring the Ancient Civilizations as they persist still to this day.

He could see the bookstore to his right, books and spells flying left and right. Moreover, the apothecary that sells potions kits to students of Hogwarts further to the left. Eyelops Emporium to his right. Even Madam Malkin's is here! He remembers vaguely he many times grand-daughter still manning the shop and providing for the community without rest. There are countless more to his left and right, even a few smaller alleys is beginning to develop with names of their own to sell specialized items of interest. Suddenly, he notices a darkness that is creeping up on him and saw another bigger Alley from the upper left side of Diagon.

Ah. Knockturn Alley. Reputed as a home for the darker inclined witches, wizards, and the occasional mage (whom are all hiding in plain sight). It was found later in the future that because of the bigotry and discrimination of Dark creatures, witches, and wizards that live in this Alley sat a cesspool of dark, but not evil, magic that supports the life cycle of the darker creatures. This is why werewolves, hags, vampires, and the occasional tikbalang would always be found here. They are impoverished, sure, but they are sustained by the magic that is collecting in the Alley. It is a rather vicious cycle to be sure, and with the Ministry of this time corrupt and afraid of darker magics, then creatures and the darker witches and wizards will continue to be marginalized and impoverished due to a lack of representation.

Harry bitterly laughs. He forgot the hypocrisy that the English community held towards their fellow witches and wizards. This is why he fought all those wars in the future, to bring them all to Avalon and sustain their magics all equally without fear of repercussion and discrimination. Alas, such is way of the English wizarding community, bigotry runs rampant in the facade of a good, governing body.

He notices that he is nearing the white marble building at the front and center of Diagon. Gringotts. The home of the sovereignty of Goblins and their underworld. Hades will be happy to know that his most ardent worshippers are well and alive also in this time, even though they shackled by the wizards that hold their very heads should they rebel again. He cautiously climbs the marble staircase towards the towering double doors of the bank, and saw the guards braving the harsh sunlight to protect what is inside.

"Derûndân, hefthyn" said Harry in Gobbledegook. He looks as his greeting shocked the armoured guards to a stop. He smiles serenely at them and waits for them to probe his person for any concealed items or glamours. His Notice-Me-Not is released almost immediately for that reason.

"Derûndân, grimstbelard" said an armoured one. "Thank you kindly, sirs!" said Harry as he enters the marbled building. Leaving in his wake two bewildered armoured ones, shocked that a mortal and human knows their language. Luckily their manners didn't leave, and gave greetings as well— it would have been rude not to, after all.

Harry clanks his cane as he walked towards a Goblin Teller. His stature giving him additional protection against the more aggressive bank dwellers. He wasn't here to be rude, after all. Though, he thinks, he might just ruffle some feathers here and there. He laughs internally.

"Derûndân, Teller," greeted Harry to the Goblin Teller. He didn't relish the shocked face this time and proceeded with his query, but looked around first before—"My name is Henry Williamsford Potter," said Harry quietly. "And I am inquiring about the Potter family accounts. I have arrived from my seclusion to secure our family, at last," continued Harry—Henry now— as he looks upon the teller with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Impossible!" muttered the Goblin Teller almost loudly. "Ah but it is true, Goblin Teller. Though it has been years since my appearance in this country, I have watched and mourned the last of my family as it died out, leaving only an heir," said Harry, almost with a sad tone.

"Then where were you as the Potters died and left their child alone in the world," said the Teller accusingly at the Old Man. It's almost as if they care.

"I am old, teller. I have been seclusion for a hundred years. And since then, I have regretted it. My family needs me now. I foresee danger in these times," replied Harry. "Danger? You-Know-Who has been dead for a decade now, old man," sneered the Teller.

"Ah, but that's not what I am looking at, dear Teller. Please, now, take me to the account manager for the vaults of my esteemed family, it seems that we're gathering an audience," said Harry as he looks around him, people wondering what this Old Man is taking so long to talk to a Goblin Teller. It's a good thing he cast a silencing spell around their persons.

"Very well, human. I will send for Ragnuk, immediately. In the mean time, please wait at the antechamber before you are escorted to his office" replied the Teller.

Harry was led to a chamber to the right of the teller counters. There are chairs like a waiting for esteemed and important clients of the bank. He waited for maybe 5 minutes until an unnamed Goblin led him to an ornate office. It was filled with tapestries of battles of old and swords of all shapes and sizes mounted on the wall. The Goblin that owned this office would be considered rich and a well decorated warrior in their race.

"Good morning, Mr. Potter. I am Account Manager Ragnok of the Potter Accounts, fellow and warrior of the esteemed Gringotts bank" the Goblin said as he held out to shake Henry's hand. Ragnok was of short stature, as every Goblin do, but with him carries a hint of command that demands respect in every sense of the word. Not only is this man a mere bank accountant, but also a warrior that will not hesitate to strike his enemies.

"Good morning to you as well, fellow and warrior, Account Manager Ragnok. As you know, I am Henry Williamsford Potter."

"But I was also known as Harry James Potter, once upon a time," said Harry with a mischievous smile at the Account Manager.

"Impossible! Harry James Potter is a fourteen year-old boy as of today! How dare you impersonate the last heir of the Potter Line!" snarled Ragnok, showing his fangs and growling threateningly at the Old Man.

"Ah but dear friend, I already am. I have come from a different future, let us say. I was tasked for an important mission that involves our resident Dark Lord," said Harry. Shocking the Goblin in front of him. Impossible! The Goblin repeated in his head. The Dark Lord is gone!

But what if he wasn't? There was no body found during that fateful night at Halloween. The reports he has been getting from his spy at Hogwarts says that mentions of the Dark Lord and his connection with the Potter boy. A mere fourteen year old. And now there is an old man claiming to be him from the future?

"How can I know you who you claim to be? Surely we have interacted in the future if you address me so casually," said Ragnok, a sneer coming from his mouth as he challenges the old man of his knowledge.

"A challenge eh? Very well then, General Ragnok of the Fifth Legion," paused Harry and sees the shock of the Goblin in record time. "Hades would be proud of the Goblin that is in front of me. Yes, I can see that now. Our interaction were far and in between, but you gave me the opportunities to grow and inform me of what my responsibilities are in the magical world." stated Harry.

"Ragnok of the Fifth was a man of a few words. But across the centuries of our time as client and banker, he became a friend. I saw how proud he was of his son becoming a Captain of the guard, his wife becoming a world renowned Goblin Healer that once gained audience of the King himself" continued Harry. Each information was a shock to the old Goblin, these information were kept to the heart. He would never reveal them, but to a few of his close acquaintances and few family members. To reveal such information to a client meant that he formed a bond towards the Man in front of him right now.

"Centuries? You are an Immortal?!" exclaimed Ragnok. He couldn't believe his ears. A human living past 200 is unheard of unless they are an immortal like the venerable Nicholas Flamel and his Wife.

"Unfortunately, I am, old friend," said Harry, in sorrowful tone. "I have been alive for 2 millenia now" he laughs bitterly.

It seems that the Goblin was in for shock after shock when he entered his office today. He couldn't believe that a true immortal would grace his hall this morning, but alas, Hades works in mysterious ways, even for a Goblin such as he.

"How? Humans and creatures alike have searched true immortality without a consequence since time immemorial. To achieve such a thing would attract the most unsavory of witches and wizards alike. Even cultivators of Ancient China barely made it to 300 before they deviate!" said Ragnok questioningly.

"Do you subscribe to the works of Beedle the Bard? The Three Brothers one?" asked Harry. "Yes, of course! Do you claim to be the Master of Death and have obtained the mythical artefacts? Ridiculous! They are lost or either just children's stories!"

"Ragnok, surely you know that with every legend in the magical world, there is a kernel of truth attached to them? Yes, I possess all of Death's items, and I am His Champion" replied Harry. He sighed. He needed to get on with his accounts. They are both losing time.

"Ragnok, you have confirmed from the stories that I am telling the truth? Let us go through the crux of the matter: my inheritance and the future of the Potter family." said Harry firmly. He could not afford to lose the Goblin's trust here. The artefacts alone within the vaults would be a boon to little Harry's endeavors through his studies.

Ragnok sighed. "Very well, Mr Potter. I believe you. I am still finding myself bewildered with your existence, that is all. Time travel and immortality? Not on my 1994 bucket list, to be sure," said Ragnok jokingly. Harry roared in laughter as he heard this.

"There is the Ragnok I came to business with! Finally!" exclaimed Harry happily. He walks towards the ornate chair in front of the large desk that is Ragnok's work space and sat on it.

"Now to business, as it were, Mr Potter. I have been in charge of the accounts since my father passed and continues to accrue profits from the patents and businesses that your family possess at this time" he looked up to Harry before saying, "I'm sure you would like to expound your portfolio if you desire to; what with your intimate knowledge of the future" said Ragnok questioningly, with a hint of greed in his eyes.

"But of course, Ragnok! We shall reap many benefits of my existence here. Many inventions can also be created earlier with my help" laughs Harry. He doesn't have any qualms of bringing witch/wizard technology to the wizarding world even if he wasn't the one to create them in the first place. He knows that money would be a good insentive to keep the economy afloat amid the chaos that will surely errupt when Voldemort ressurects himself.

"But, we'll do it slowly. You know how the purebloods of this time would react if they see advancement without their input or oversight. Bunch of inbred idiots, the lot of them," Harry and Ragnok laughed uproariously at that remark. Inbred idiots, indeed. For centuries they have controlled with what they cannot understand, aiding in the continued bigotry of the unnatural and the mundane. Thus, slowing progress in the research and development department.

Magic is as much as sentient being, as well as a force that can be manipulated. To be creative with it means progress to the people that inhabit them. Not only with Mundane technology, but newer ways to do things so that things are easily done instead of the harder routes. He plans to enact Avalon with the help of little Harry in the next hundred years, hopefully if they succeed in their mission.

"That is fine Mr Potter. Then how about we smooth out your transition into the magical world. Surely, you would go into the wilds of the political and social arena of the Magical world without an ounce of scrutiny?" asked Ragnok.

"Yes, I have considered that. And I would like to claim the name of the real Henry Williamsford Potter born on 1777, a war class mage that has been in seclusion ever since and have the magic to lead the Potter family this time around. We could explain that his seclusion have made him a hermit, that after his service in the Guilds of the War Mages, he lost sight of his family and lost them all the way in 1981. I will certainly be certified in the actual Guild here as I have the Level 5 mark, and it is good we are smoothing out the story first before I act with my plans," explained Harry.

"The Old Geezers of the Council from the Guild" laughs Harry, "– are somewhat also a recluse but are still magically mighty. Some can even go toe to toe with Dumbledore if they want. So me in seclusion would be the perfect cover for my absence from my family until today," stated Harry. Ragnok nodded in understanding. Also hiding his shock that the man in front of him has War Mage status at Level 5. Some of them leave at level 2 with extensive vows not to misuse their magic for malicious purposes.

"I will process the papers immediately so that your papers can be gathered from that time period. Henry Potter did not die, but has been in seclusion until he learned that his distant Grand nephew has been orphaned and is already attending Hogwarts Witchcraft and Wizardry," confirmed Ragnok.

"You know this will be hard to accept from young Harry Potter's point of view. I have heard that he lives with horrid muggles, and the fact that he has been in danger for the first few years of his Hogwarts years means that he will hold you in a higher standard that those that lives with him," said the Old Goblin. Harry sighs again. "Yes, that is what I've been dreading actually. I know him better than anyone, I am him after all. If suddenly there was a relative that's been alive all his life and he was not taken from my aunt and uncle since he was a child, I'd be screaming and throwing up just to experience familial love for the first time," replied Harry, nodding and at the same time wondering how to approach his abuse without being the overbearing great uncle.

Ragnok nodded in understanding. It must be difficult to approach your younger self, especially if you know how they think intimately and how they think how having family suddenly might how he sees Henry's existence. Regardless, both of them would work to be honest as possible to Harry's plight as well as ensure his safety during his studies at Hogwarts.

Especially now that the Triwizard Tournament has been enacted again, with Hogwarts hosting this time.

"I would like to request the Head Ring please, Ragnok. I know I possess the alpha ring now that I am Head in a different time but this time's magic will respond quickly if I possess the family ring of this time," requested Harry as he waits for the rings to be presented to him. "Yes, I have them right here, Mr Potter" replied Ragnok.

He presented to Henry two boxes of the Potter rings, one for the Head and the one for the Heir to be presented to Harry when he meets him in time. Henry received the platinum band with the Griffon across as field of azure as the design. This ring has been enchanted to protect the mind, recall the Potter properties, as well as detect poison from food and drinks. It also serves as a portkey towards Potter Castle, the ancestral seat of the Greater House of Peverell. Hidden from history to preserve Potter culture and history as War Mages and renowned Potioneers for a whole spectrum of inclinations. A Peverell and Potter will always fight for the those that cannot, this is their words.

The heir ring meanwhile is simplistic in its design with lesser rubies than the Headship ring, but has the same or even an extensive charms to protect the young ones of the family whom carry the secrets of the clan.

"Thank you, Ragnok, for you help in these endeavours of mine. I will entrust you my business ideas and even some tombs to raid when I have secured my ancestral seat," said Harry as he puts on the Headship ring. A strong surge of magic flowed through him as he envisioned the properties still in use and the magic of the Potters protecting his mind twofold.

"You're very welcome, Lord Potter. I will await your owls or correspondence in the following weeks" replied Ragnok as he anticipates the coming months with a new war mage Lord Potter at the reigns.

"For my first venture, Ragnok, to make us large amounts of money. Please bet on the Irish Quidditch team to win, but Viktor Krum to catch the snitch in the upcoming World Cup on the 18th. " laughs Harry as he remembers the insane play that followed.

"Truly? Then I follow through that bet, then Lord Potter." replied Ragnok.

"So it shall be, then. I shall take my leave. Please leave this conversation between us Ragnok, otherwise many people would be very curious indeed" said Harry as he stood up from the comfortable chair that he was sitting on. "As you say, Lord Potter. Thank you for the information that you have given me."

Harry then exited the office towards the end of the Hall of the bank. Suddenly, he hears his stomach growl.

"Oh. I haven't eaten since the travel. I better eat before going to the Castle," said Harry to himself. He proceeded to go to the Leaky to eat their famous Shepherds' Pie, god he missed those.

"Hullo, Tom! May I have the-"