Amanda Waller wouldn't classify herself as an easily shocked woman. Her meticulous planning and unflappable nature lent her the illusion of omnipotence. An all seeing God who sits on high and decides the fate of those who know of her existence

So it was a rather odd day at Black Gate when a man's body seems to pierce through a wall with all the grace of a cannon ball. The incident happened quickly and with a flash of light so powerful it fried the cameras. For once Waller held not only a look of shock but genuine curiosity. This marked the day that the unknown would catch the eye of the most notorious super villain collector there ever was.

90 Years Ago

Harry was a quite man by nature, especially after the war. There was too much he felt responsible for, too much he felt he could of changed. So as time went on and everyone started to age, he started to distance himself. It was at Hermiones 40th birthday that he cemented the plan in his head. Hermione was always trying to reel him back into the greater public saying "you could do so much more". She believed that Harry had the capability of change for the greater Wizarding world

So as the sun dipped below the horizon and the rowdy crowd started to mellow out, Harry decided to try and slip away. And try he did. He got all the way into the burrows lounge area and stood infront of the fire when a bullet of bushy hair charged at him

"Harry James Potter. I hope you weren't leaving." The accusation dripping from Hermiones voice

"What? Me? Never!" He lied like a lying liar. "I was just getting away from the crowd. You how it is."

The two stared down each other before Hermione walk determinedly over to Harry and rested her hand on his cheek. "You haven't aged a day." She whispered.

Harry just smiled and cupped her hand on his cheek. He always heard that from people. How gracefully he aged or how he lacks the evidence of aging. "And you look like McGonagall did in first year." He fired back with a smirk plastered over his face.

They giggled lightly at their banter. However the concern and sadness in Hermione's eyes never really left. Harry knew she knew something was up. Harry knew something was up himself. He still looked as young as when he last fought Voldemort. Still as fresh faced as his 18 year-old self. Even by wizard standards that's odd, though Harry always seemed to defy what the standard of wizard was.

"What were you doing Harry?" The question hung in the air. Both knew that Harry didn't want to answer, and both knew what the answer was.

"I don't think I have to answer that question for you to know the answer do I Hermione?" He gave a little chuckle at the end of his sentence to alienate the tension but it was for nought.

"Please dont go" the plead hung in the air. Latching onto the only feeling Harry had left. Guilt. As the feeling settled in his bones and wormed it's way into his heart he just nodded and let his bestfriend drag him back out. To the party.

The party itself didn't last much longer. Mr and Mrs Weasley growing more tired by the day as their age caught up with them. Mrs Weasley still latched onto Harry and squeezed him however he stopped turning blue. Mr Weasley never stopped asking him unusual questions about mundane muggle object, thought now he does understand the function of a rubber duck.

It was as the party was winding down that Harry stood to leave. This time he walked further from the Burrow. He walked until the lights were but a twinkle in the distance and then he vanished was nothing but a small pop!

He reappeared in a clearing of trees with a small tent in the middle and three rocks around the tent forming a triangle. It was as he entered the tent that it revealed itself to be expanded beyond belief inside. It held a modest bedroom and lounge area as well as a working kitchen. Each area wasn't big but was large enough for the one person living there.

As Harry stripped off his formal dress and put on some pyjama's he looked into the mirror. He truly had not aged a day. Each day cemented the idea more and more in his head.

3 Weeks Earlier

Harry was stood at the foot of a grave. Eyes downcast as they lowered a coffin into the ground. The dark wooden box symbolizing his last leather to this world evaporating. On the headstone read a poem. She always loved poems. The gravestone read:

Hermione Jean Granger – Weasley

19/09/1979 – 09/04/2109

Do not stand at my grave and weep,

I am not there; I do not sleep.

I am thousands winds that blow, I am the diamond glints on snow.

I am the sunlight ripened grain; I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you awaken in the mornings hush, I am the swift uplifting rush of quiet birds in circle flight.

I am the soft stars that shine at night.

Do not stand at my grave and cry.

I am not there; I did not die.

Wife, Mother and Grandmother

Harry's last piece of family buried beneath the earth.

The funeral was a huge ordeal. It's not everyday a war hero is buried. He wanted to leave so badly, to escape this nightmare. Go anywhere, but her last words to him kept reverberating in his ears. "My Harry. Look how young you look. Oh look how you look. Please don't forget me when I'm gone from this world." The words brought sorrow to his heart and guilt to his mind.

Harry walked for days on end after that. Stopping in nearby towns to purchase food and drink but quickly continuing onwards. Weeks past by causing the days to blend together. He'd walked endlessly until he came upon an alter.

Present Day

Harry slowly approached the alter. It seemed to emanate a magic. It was familiar, comforting and encompassing. The alter looked yo be made out of a dark rock with five curved rocks coming out of the raised platform it all stood on. On the curved pillars was a spell repeating on each pillar. The language was old and half eroded away. But using the good bits from each pillar Harry peiced it together

Es esmu tas, kur mekl pasauli no jauna

The further Harry got into the sentence, the stronger the glow of the alter got. Upon finishing the spell the stone table in the centre started to glow. The colour reminiscent of the killing curse, pulsing as he hesitantly reached out and touched it. The pain was instant but the travel wasn't. It took Harry half a minute of torture before he was spat out at break neck speed into a wall demolishing it.

Standing up revealed him to be in a secure holding facility in a room with one occupant. A woman with platinum blonde hair and dyed ends in blue and pink. "I'm getting to old for this shit" was the last thing he said before he was spear tackled by five men knocking him out.