EMIYA the Counter Guardian looked down on the dead bodies at his feet. It was another blow to the morals of the fake 'Hero of Justice'. He didn't know much about the people he had just killed, other than they had been involved (however tangentially) with a possible extinction-level event for humanity. As a Beast of Alaya, he was nothing more than a tool of the collective unconsciousness of mankind. All he knew is that there was a threat in the form of Voldemort, and apparently the Counter Force's empowered champion was close to being defeated. If that happened, it would fall on him to preserve the human race in a more...direct manner. Counter Guardians didn't leave much in their wake, as the carnage around him attested to. Their actions were seen as natural disasters, and there were never any survivors to gain-say such claims. This was the first of many such cleansing - unless of course the Counter Force's champion actually wound up winning, but that was looking less and less likely with each passing day. The young Harry Potter still lived, and with him hope that the cleansing would be averted.

EMIYA etherealized, leaving behind the bodies of these so-called "Death Eaters", along with their intended victims, and about 30 civilians that happened to have been judged 'too-close'. Once again, he cursed his existence. He had chosen to become a Heroic Spirit upon his death in exchange for a miracle. In the end he'd saved hundreds from a calamity, and was also given the opportunity to save countless others even after his death. Instead, he'd been given the duty of "to slaughter all humans at a particular location when mankind is at the threshold of complete self destruction" - a Counter Guardian. He still had an ego, a sense of self, but his actions were bound tightly to Alaya's will. In the end, he was a cursed tool that could only save lives by killing others. His childhood dream of "saving everyone" was just that.

In the West Country of the British Isles witnesses were already gathering at his handy work. The mages would assume the carnage had been caused by a fierce battle against You-Know-Who's forces and their latest hapless victims. Ironically, the less well-informed general populace would go on to report the incident as a freak hurricane. This misconception was actually closer to the truth, since EMIYA was little more than a focused natural disaster.

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Harry Potter sat in his room going over the book his Godfather had left him for what felt like the thousandth time. It was his fault that Sirius had been killed. If he hadn't have run off after being manipulated by Voldemort, then the former Marauder would still be alive. Harry didn't know what to think when his return to 4 Privet Drive coincided with the arrival of a post-owl with a small package. The parcel was wrapped in plain brown paper, and had a note saying:

'Harry, I got to thinking, and I'm pretty sure Snivellus will make sure you don't get an Outstanding in Potions. The greasy git isn't capable of grading you fairly, and it's the perfect opportunity for him to get you out of his class (even if he likes having you in there, just to torture you)! So I thought to myself, what would a good class for you to take be? Then I remembered a book I had in my childhood. "The Formal Craft of Runes" It always intrigued me the possibilities that runes had for pranking, and Ancient Runes can be a pretty useful elective. I know you want to take Potions to be an Auror, but (and I can't believe I'm about to say this) give the book a read. If nothing else, it might make the summer pass more quickly. It's not like you can just jump into advanced rune classes, but this starter might get your interest peaked. The Berkana rune was a great help in making the map. Your Godfather, Sirius Black.'

Harry bit back tears at what would be the last message he ever got from Sirius. Thankfully he was in his room, so he wouldn't have Dudley making fun of him. In truth, Harry had little interest in Ancient Runes. It was the kind of course that Hermione would take, not him. THIS book however, was the last gift from Sirius. Harry read it, imagining his Godfather when he was younger. The margins of the book were filled with notes on possible prank ideas, and some comments on other possible rune uses. Immersing himself the small, black, and ancient looking book made him feel better, so Harry read it over and over again.

After going over the book so many times, Harry had gotten interested in it - just a little. He wasn't allowed to perform magic outside of Hogwarts, but just drawing runes should be ok. Harry liked simplicity of it, and the sense that he was accomplishing something bit-by-bit. He looked down at the finished circle and wondered if this was the satisfaction that an artist would have upon finishing a painting. It was the most basic of arrays in the book, a circle that was supposed to make it easier to practice magic inside of it. Harry didn't follow a lot of the terms in the book like "bounded field" or "mana", but the description of this first circle was fairly straight-forward. Since it didn't do anything, then there shouldn't be a chance of him accidentally triggering anything and having the Trace activate.

It was then that his scar began to throb with pain. Something must've made Voldemort excited. Harry immediately sat down just outside of the circle, and started concentrating on his Occulumency lessons. He wasn't about to let Voldemort into his head again. If he'd just concentrated on his lessons, rather than trying to use the link between himself and the Dark Lord - Sirius would still be alive! A sharp twinge of guilt went through Harry, and he felt his magic rushing through his fingertips. His green eyes opened and he saw that his right hand was touching the circle, and that the runes were emitting a bright white light!

There was a sound like a crack of thunder, and within the circle a man suddenly appeared bathed in a blue glow that now emanated from the runes. The stranger was tall, easily more than 6 feet. His white hair was slicked back along his head, but his face didn't show any signs of old age. He wore what looked like some sort of light-weight black body armor under a bright red overcoat. Harry scrambled away, and pulled out his wand with the reflexes of a seeker. The stranger noticed his movement, turned to face the Boy-Who-Lived, and then bowed with one arm over his chest.

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EMIYA was ethereally flying across some suburbs on his way to another concentration of those associated with the threat to the world. Alaya's knowledge was absolute, and the Counter Guardian had access to this small fragment of it. Flight wasn't necessary, the power to maneuver in such a fashion was granted to him so he could perform his duty, but such power could also have allowed him to arrive instantly. He had time though, a good 30 minutes before his prey were to gather, and it was either take his time flying - which was a little enjoyable, or teleport there and spend time watching the people he'd wind up slaughtering.

Suddenly, he felt a very nostalgic pull. A summoning? That shouldn't have been possible! This dimension's magic didn't seem to have ever developed such a technique. There also wasn't anything like the Holy Grail around to help facilitate the massive mana reserves required for such an endeavor. Was the summoning directed at him? He could feel its pull, but it wasn't so strong that he would be taken against his will. True, as a Counter Guardian, his existence had already been paid for by the Earth itself, so the Grail wouldn't be required. Maintaining his form as a Heroic Spirit would be another matter entirely, but that should be a moot point. What power could possible enforce its will upon him?

The world disappeared in a flash of white light, and EMIYA found himself in a small bedroom inside a basic bounded-field formalcraft array. His gaze swept the room, and then he had his answer: Harry Potter, the one empowered by the Counter Force. Apparently his authority was sufficient to invoke the summons. EMIYA wasn't granted any knowledge from Alaya that wasn't relevant to his mission of extermination, so he'd only picked up who the Counter Force's champion was, and that he was still alive, by the old fashioned way. The "Death Eaters" had a keen interest in the boy.

EMIYA did a quick analysis of himself. The summons seemed incomplete, Again! He wasn't imparted with any particular knowledge of the time and location that he was in. His class seemed to be Archer, likely as a hang-over from his first summons. Perhaps this was only possible because he had the unique distinction of being a Counter Guardian that had once been summoned as a Servant? In any case, he should probably introduce himself to the boy before he either started throwing spells or had a heart-attack. EMIYA placed his right hand over his chest and gave a short bow of respect.

"By your summoning, I have come forth. Are you my Master?"

"What?" Oh right, English. It was a good thing that he naturally knew the language from his living days spent traveling the globe trying to be a 'Hero of Justice'. With no Grail granted knowledge, he'd have a difficult time if he only could speak Japanese.

"I am the servant Archer. I ask of you: Did you summon me?"

"Summon?" The boy looked down at the magic circle, and then back up with a sheepish look on his face. "I..I guess so..."

"You bear the command crests on your hand, so indeed, you must be my Master." On Harry's left hand there were three straight lines of a command crest. The lines were in connected in a zig-zag pattern that resembled the scar on the teenager's forehead. EMIYA, or Archer as he had started thinking of himself by his class again, nodded. This, this was an opportunity! He couldn't feel anything more than a trickle of od from the boy, so his time in this world was limited. His Independent Action trait was high: a hallmark of the Archer class. Thus, he could subsist on his own od reserves for a time, but as long as he was a servant - he wasn't a Counter Guardian! He didn't have to slaughter everyone, he could save them instead! Then the thought struck him! He had knowledge of the next place the Death Eaters would strike. He wouldn't get anymore information from Alaya as long as he was a Servant. At the very least he could prevent the deaths at the home he was heading towards before his summoning. "I am sorry Master, but there is someone that will die unless I save them, so I must depart."

Harry had looked down at his hand when Archer had mentioned the command crests. His eyebrows raised up in question, but by then EMIYA had already gone to the window and jumped out. He hadn't even opened it! A very confused Boy-Who-Lived was left alone in his room, wondering if he'd be brought up on underage magic charges again this year.

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Archer sped towards his destination. Now he wished he had the ability to teleport, as it was he'd have to rely on one of the two magecrafts that he was capable of: Reinforcement. The technique was as basic as can be, and thus was one of the reasons why even a 3rd-rate magus like him could use it. It consisted solely on pumping prana into an object. The difficulties were two-fold. First, you realistically could only use your internal prana - also know as od - to reinforce yourself. External prana, or mana, was too foreign to be accepted into a person's body. Secondly, while putting prana into something required no skill - the object would naturally be made faster, tougher, and/or stronger; putting even a drop more than the object could handle was disastrous. EMIYA had great practice with it, since he couldn't really perform more advanced magic. Thus, the newly summoned Heroic Spirit knew exactly how much he could force into his body.

Becoming etherial would allow him to take a more direct path, but at the cost of not having a body to reinforce. His best bet at arriving in time was to travel as quickly on foot as possible. He had 25 minutes, but that was before all the Death Eaters were gathered. Their intended victim could be dead long before then, since the murderous wizards stayed around for a time to plant that Dark Mark of theirs.

EMIYA's target came into view. The house, or rather the mansion, was situated in the middle of some rather large and lush lawns. Archer's reinforced eyes could make out 18 Deatheaters in three groups around the perimeter. Each group had half of its members holding their wands up. The spell they were concentrating on caused their magical foci to glow with a pale red light. The group in front of the house, which happened to be the group between him and his target, had the remaining 3 members talking animatedly amongst themselves in a tight circle. Trace on. "I am the bone of my sword." With his aria, the former Counter Guardian projected his favorite blades: Kanshou and Bakuya. Kanshou was a pitch black sword with a tortoise pattern on it. A small triangle of white went up the side of the wide and curved blade. Above the hilt, at the base of the white triangle, was a ying-yang symbol. Bakuya was the mirror image of its partner, only white like the haze of a cloud. Unlike normal projection, Archers blades weren't just his od forged into a specific shape. His skill was such that all aspects of what he was copying were included - from its production process to its accumulated years. It would be better to classify the effect as something unique to him: Tracing. Thus the twin blades held the magic of the original pair, not that EMIYA needed a Noble Phantasm to tear his way though a crowd of unsuspecting humans.

The red blur landed between the 3 Death Eaters that were only talking. Archer bent his knees and then propelled himself up and forward, all the while spinning. Kanshou cut open a femoral vein, Bakuya severed an arm, both blades lashed out at vital points, and when Archer's rotation stopped all that was left around him were corpses. The first of the 3 Death Eaters in a line didn't even notice the twin blades that separated his head from his body. His companion had just begun to turn to see what the strange sounds were, when EMIYA's kick caved in his chest. His limp body collided with the final cloaked wizard, and the two of them went down in a pile of limbs. Archer didn't spend any time on the final member of the group, he had none to spare. As he sprinted towards the house, he could sense himself passing into a bounded-field. The Death Eaters outside must have been maintaining some sort of ward. Something to prevent the person inside from escaping? In a matter of seconds, Archer had reached the door of the house, which he barreled through with a loud crack.

The foyer was in shambles, there had been a vicious fight there. Reinforced hearing picked up sounds of a confrontation coming from further inside. Archer moved forward with a deliberate pace, prepared for the worst. He came upon the ending part of a wizard's duel. A square-jawed witch with short cropped grey hair leaned with her back against one wall. Her side was stained a deep crimson as blood flowed between the fingers of her left hand. Her right hand held a wand and she used the sudden distraction of a new person entering the room to shoot a blue stream of fire at her opponent. Voldemort looked more snake than human. The Dark Lord casually flicked his wand and the blue fire sputtered out, that same instant he said "Avada Kedavra" and a pale green beam shot out at EMIYA.

Archer calmly accessed his options. Rho Aias could probably stop the spell, whatever it was. It was a defensive Noble Phantasm of the highest magnitude. Its seven petals were each as strong as a fortress wall. It would leave the woman vulnerable though. He could charge Voldemort, his speed would allow him to easily weave around the magic and strike its source. It might even put an end to the catastrophe right then and there. Archer could also move to grab the woman, a large part of him wanted nothing more than to finally save someone again. In a fraction of a second, he made he decision.

The green light was easy to avoid, Archer's eyes could see the tiniest of movements, and his speed as a Heroic Spirit enabled him to change his momentum from a forward charge to a side-step. At the same time he threw Bakuya at Voldemort. The spinning white blade clanged off of the air a foot away from the Dark Lord, but EMIYA was already at the witch's side.

"If I get you out of this bounded field, can you escape?"

She looked at him with a puzzled expression, but the terms he used were fairly obvious to intuit in the current situation. "Yes."

"Good."

Archer threw Kanshou towards Voldemort, but the blade went wide. At first the Dark Lord though the stranger had missed with his last weapon, but then a white blade appeared from his chest as Bakuya tried to make its way back to its partner. Kanshou and Bakuya were forged by two blacksmiths: Gan Jiang and Mo Ye. The King of Wu had ordered the creation of two blades of peerless quality, but Gan Jiang couldn't produce such powerful weapons. Mo Ye, seeing her husband's desperation, threw herself into forge - right in front of him. Her sacrifice allowed the creation of blades approaching the realm of Gods. The love the two of them shared in life, was passed onto their swords in death. So now, the two blades attracted each other like magnets, and the white sword sought its counter-part even after being deflected by Voldemort's shield. The spell the Dark Lord was preparing died on his lips as blood filled his mouth from a punctured lung. In the meantime, EMIYA grabbed the witch in his arms and raced towards the door. She continued to cast spells over his shoulder at their adversary, but soon the two of them were outside of the house and passing back though the hole in the defenses that the dead Death Eaters had left. The one surviving adversary had apparently decided that it was a better idea to go and get reinforcements from one of the other groups.

It took less than a minute to get far enough away that Archer though it would be safe to stop. He gently put his passenger down. The trip hadn't been good for her. Whatever had cut her side had been jostled in their escape, and her complexion was quite pale.

"Are you ok?"

The witch only nodded, and she mumbled spell after spell - directed at her wounded side. When she was finished, she turned to her rescuer. "My thanks good Sir. I had thought my wards sufficient, but clearly I was wrong."

A smile of pure joy came across EMIYA's mouth. He'd saved someone again, after so many years! "It was my pleasure ma'am. Can you teleport away?"

"I believe I'm capable of apparating, what about yourself?"

"I'm not capable of doing so."

"In my current state, I wouldn't want to risk either of us by side along apparating. We should be able to make it to a house with a Floo before the Death Eaters regroup. I believe Mr. Doge's house isn't too far. We should be able to trust him."

"No. Don't delay on my account. If you can get to safety do so. Trust me, I'll be fine."

She gave him a knowing look. "Alright, I'll go on my own, but only because I think I'd just be slowing you down. With your speed I imagine you could outrun and army of the Dark Lord's followers." With that said, she spun around and disappeared with a loud crack.

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"Here is the potion."

"Thank you, Severus."

"Sir, I feel I must protest your plan of action again!"

Albus Dumbledore let out a sigh. "I explained before didn't I? Voldemort expects young Draco to fail, and if he does then terrible fates will befall him and his mother. My life is forfeit already because of my foolishness with the ring, so paying it is not a high price. In fact, I would prefer a quick death to the drawn-out suffering this curse promises to inflict on me in due time."

"Still, to give up hope! Let me at least try to find a counter-measure."

"There is no time, and such an action would keep you from far more important duties."

"When those duties are killing you, I'd prefer they'd be put off!"

"I would spare Draco that pain, and for you it's not murder. You'll soul will be fine."

"That's not the point!"

The wizened old headmaster of Hogwarts suddenly turned his head. One of the many gadgets in his office had begun to tick in a (to him) peculiar fashion. He leaned forward and examined the odd clockish contraption with three legs through his half-moon spectacles. The slivery hands ticked forward twice, then back once. "Hmmmm... Most curious."

"What is it?"

"There's magical activity at the Potter residence."

"Is he in trouble?"

"I think not. The wards for damage and ill intent haven't been triggered, but neither has the Ministry's Trace."

"Hmpf! It's probably just Potter doing under-age magic again. I keep telling you he can't help showing off!"

"Yes, yes, you've made your opinion of Harry quite clear. I just wish you had given him a better chance, but the past is history and won't likely be changed. I'm going to go and investigate. I trust you'll be well?"

"Yes. I'll bring you another potion next week."

"Once again, thank you Severus. Now, Fawkes!" The phoenix flew from its perch and alighted onto its Master's shoulder. Then in a flash of phoenix fire, the pair vanished.

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Harry Potter opened his window and looked out. The strange man, or Archer as he called himself, had just leapt out of the window not 3 seconds ago, but he was already a small, red dot in the distance. Harry wanted to know what was happening? Was this something like Dobby? A magical servant he'd inexplicably summoned? Harry remembered a passage in Sirius's book, and quickly began leafing through its ancient pages.

"Summoning can only be accomplished by the World, and even then it's considered a miraculous occurrence. Basic summoning requires a circle and a regent. If a specific individual is sought after, then the circle's design and composition; along with an appropriate regent should be used. The process is said to impart a Heroic Spirit - one that has been set aside by the World as a finished soul - into a vessel. The vessel is a class: a set of attributes and abilities that help form the spiritual and material body of the summoned. The large part of the summon's appearance and equipment comes from how that person is thought of in the age that they are summoned into. This is a more esoteric use of magical circles and should not be attempted without extensive studying. Unfortunately, such details are far too in depth to be included in this general text."

Since it was this book which had lead to Archer appearing, then Harry reasoned that its information had to be at least half-way useful. The problem was it couldn't even be called a general overview! The World? Vessels? Classes? Heroic Spirits? None of those terms made sense to him, and it didn't seem like he was likely to get an explanation any time soon.

*knock* *knock* *knock*

There was a loud rapping at the door to Harry's bedroom. It must be his Uncle Vernon! What the patriarch of the Dursley family would want with him right now fled from Harry's mind. The outburst that would undoubtedly come from such "unnatural" markings on the floor sent him into a panic. Harry frantically looked around the room - there must be something he could use to cover them, preferably something that wouldn't seem out of place and arouse suspicion! His trunk? Too little. His bedsheets? Too noticeable.

From outside the door, he heard a familiar voice say: "I assure you Harry, such action isn't warranted at the moment. If you did cover that up, you'd just have to remove it in a moment."

"H-Headmaster?"

"Yes. So if you'd be so good as to open the door..."

Outside his room, Harry found a smiling Dumbledore waiting for him. The old wizard was dressed in his usual robes, and quickly moved into the room. A small grunt escaped his mouth as he looked at the circle drawn on the floor. Beside him, Harry fidgeted. He must have really done something wrong to get Dumbledore to come to Privet Drive. The Dursleys hated magic, and the Headmaster wasn't the kind of person to antagonize muggles. As he looked at his elderly mentor, Harry noticed his right had was black. It looked as if it had been burnt to a cinder. His question of what happened died on his lips - Dumbledore's brow was furrowed in deep thought. Harry decided he shouldn't interrupt what ever thought process was going on. After what seemed like an eternity, Dumbledore spoke again.

"Harry my boy, would you be so kind as to explain to me what happened here tonight?"

"Ah, well, you see... I've been reading this book on Ancient Runes that Sirius left me. I wanted to do some practicing, and so I tried copying the most basic circle in the book. It wasn't supposed to do anything! But after I finished, I must've touched the circle, or done something else, because there was this flash of light and a strange man appeared within it! He said something funny-sounding, then asked if I was his 'Master'. I think he said his name was 'Archer' or something, and then he passed through the window and jumped out!"

"This book, where is it?"

"Right here Professor!"

Dumbledore had started to flip through Sirius's book, when large cat that was seemingly made out of white light appeared at his side. In a voice, that Harry felt he could almost recognize it said: "Amelia Bones was attacked in her house by Voldemort, but someone saved her. A group of Aurors are heading there to see if they can intercept any Death Eaters. Voldemort may still be there, so any help would be appreciated."

"Well Harry, it looks like I must be off. If you would be so kind, I would like to borrow this book for a little while." Dumbledore's eyes then glanced towards the window. "Actually, I may stay a little while longer. I think we are about to have some company."

A darkly tanned head with white hair peered up though the window. "Oh, I didn't know my Master had a guest. Excuse my interruption."

"Nonsense. Come inside. If you don't mind, I have a few questions for you."

Archer shrugged his shoulders and casually flipped through the window and landed lightly on his feet. His demeanor seemed different from when Harry had last seen him, this time the stranger was wearing a smile ear-to-ear. "I don't mind if you ask any questions, but I may not have answers that will satisfy you."

"You called Harry 'Master'. May I infer that there is a magical bond that compels you to do so?"

The smile disappeared from Archer's face, and he turned to his young summoner. "Master, should I answer these questions? Knowledge of my...situation, might aid your enemies if they caught wind of it."

"My enemies?"

"Yes, I believe you call them 'Death Eaters'."

"Who are you?"

"You can call me Archer. "

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Did you just have a run-in with these Death Eaters?"

"Ah, that." The red-clad man looked a little ashamed. "I only had that last piece of information, so I acted without orders. But I think the outcome is one my Master would appreciate. Of course, I don't think it really matters. I'm not long for this world, but I'm glad I got to save somebody again after all this time." With that, he bowed deeply to The-Boy-Who-Lived. "Thank you for summoning me."

Dumbledore glanced down at his right hand, and then cleared his throat. "I think your advise to discuss this in private has much merit. Harry, would you ask him to accompany me and answer my questions?"

"Uhm, sure. Archer, would you go with Professor Dumbledore and answer his questions?"

"As you wish."

"With that, I think time is of the essence. Harry, I'll see you again in let's say...2 weeks. Yes, that should be enough time. I'll take you so spend the rest of the summer at the Burrow. I trust that will be satisfactory?"

"Yes Sir!"

"Well then, we're off." With that, Dumbledore placed his left hand on Archers shoulder. "If you don't mind, we'll be traveling by phoenix fire. It's one of the few ways that Hogwarts' wards can be bypassed." The Servant gave a short nod of consent. In a flash of fire, Fawkes appeared on Dumbledore's shoulder, and then just as quickly, the pair disappeared in a brilliant flame.

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Archer didn't know what the old wizard wanted, but he was obviously on good terms with the Counter Force's champion. Even though Harry had told him to answer his questions, EMIYA didn't really feel like doing so. What he said was true though, even with the Archer Class's traditionally high rank in Independent Action, he wasn't long for this world. Any other class would've disappeared by now. The prana provided by an immature wizard wasn't enough to support a Heroic Spirit in the best of times. In this dimension, without the Holy Grail providing support, it wouldn't be long before his body started to break apart. In 2 weeks he wouldn't even be around anymore, and it wasn't like anything he could tell them would have an impact. The remainder of his knowledge from Alaya had been about that last attack, anything else he knew was either not important or really had no basis in this dimension. He hadn't even been granted the common knowledge that Servants usually received upon their summoning.

In fact, it might be best to just break his contract with the boy and disappear all together. It was unlikely that he'd be able to save anyone else in what little time he had remaining, and his presence was kinda disruptive. Unlikely didn't mean impossible though, and it wasn't like he had any reason to avoid changing things in this dimension...

All these thoughts went through Archer's mind as the white bearded wizard summoned some sort of fire elemental and teleported the two of them away. They appeared in a large circular room. A multitude of silver instruments adorned nearly every available flat surface. Some ticked, some whirled, some produced puffs of smoke. There was an enormous claw-footed desk, upon which sat a shabby pointed hat. The most interesting artifact in the office was a beautiful silver sword that was mounted on the wall. EMIYA instantly knew all of the history of the Sword of Godric Gryffindor. It was categorized, and all knowledge of how it was forged and all the events that had ever occurred to it were placed along side all the other unlimited blades that Archer carried with him in his soul. Such a weapon was a sight to behold. Dumbledore noticed him looking at it.

"It's a marvelous blade, but I fear I'd never be able to wield it. I never went to school here after all."

"Ah, so you know of Hogwarts?"

Archer shook his head. "I know only of the sword. I've never heard of 'Hogwarts' before. Assuming that you don't mean the skin problems of a swine."

"Heh heh heh. Indeed I do not. Now, if you would indulge me - what are you?"

"I am a Servant."

"I fear you say that as if I could infer some meaning from it."

"My apologies, I am un-aware of the magic of this dimension and what terms you use."

"This dimension?"

"Yes, my home dimension shares many similarities, but many differences as well."

"So you are able to travel between dimensions?"

"No, only one sorcerer has ever gained that power that I know of - and I am not him."

"Then he brought you here?"

Archer shook his head. "Perhaps it would be better if I explained my situation myself. I fear I'm giving you the wrong impression."

"By all means then." Dumbledore seated himself behind his desk. He held up a small bowl filled with yellow candies. "Lemon drop?"

"No thank you. First, do you know of the Counter Force, and Counter Guardians?"

"I'm afraid I know of no such terms, and I possess a passing familiarity with most magics."

"Very well. The Counter Force is...the will of the collective unconsciousness of humanity. If something would threaten humanity itself, then the Counter Force chooses a champion and provides them with exactly enough power to defat the threat."

"That would be young Potter?"

"Yes. It's important to note that the Counter Force only helps with the barest minimum. It seeks to make the two sides even, not to grant an advantage to either one."

"And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives."

"That's a rather appropriate way to say it. Nicely poetic."

"I try."

"In any case, if the champion fails, then the Counter Guardians take over. That's what I was, and will be again."

"But now you're a Servant?"

"Exactly."

"Well, I'm glad I cleared that up, but perhaps you could go into a little more detail for an old man such as myself?"

"Counter Guardians are the souls of those who promised themselves to..the Earth when they die. We exist outside of space, time, and dimensions. When the Counter Force fails, we come in and...completely wipe out everything and everyone associated with the threat."

"By everyone you mean?"

"Everyone. Anyone that was even tangentially related is killed. Most of the time our work is attributed to natural disasters."

"So you were preparing to..."

"In order to save humanity, I have wiped out towns, cities, races, countries, and continents. And I had already started. It seems like the collective unconsciousness is having doubts as to whether Harry Potter can win or not."

Dumbledore looked aghast. "That's the most horrific 'For the Greater Good' that I've ever heard of. It's monstrous!"

"I agree, but I can do nothing else. My actions belong not to myself in that regard. It is the Fate that is brought down onto the world by itself when its champion fails."

"So why are you here?"

"It seems the Counter Force's champion tried a summoning. Such a thing shouldn't of worked, this dimension lacks even the most basic of theories on it. I however have been summoned before, so I suspect I didn't need the Grail to provide a vessel for me." EMIYA wondered about the command seals though. They were an essential part of the Master/Servant bond. As such, it was usually the Grail that provided them. Did they get 'copied' like his class?

"The Grail?"

"The Holy Grail. It provides Servants with a class: a template that their souls fill. Without that, a Heroic Spirit couldn't manifest at all. It also provides a substantial anchor to keep Servants in this plane of existence, as well as part of the massive mana our bodies require. Our very presence is extremely taxing, and no normal mage could sustain us on their own."

"So that is why you said you weren't long for this world?"

"Indeed. It is only due to the nature of my Class that I've survived so long already."

"Your class?"

"Archer."

"And how long have you been here?"

"I estimate no more than 2 hours."

"And how long until you die?"

"Probably not more than 2 weeks, but even that seems a rather optimistic estimate. But don't worry, I died a long time ago. The only thing that can happen is my soul returning to Alaya until the next time I'm summoned as a Counter Guardian."

"Doesn't your condition interfere with your...duties?"

"You could say that, but I'm not really all that eager to get back to those duties."

"So what would you like to do?"

At this, a smile returned to the face of the summoned Counter Guardian. "I'd like to save people." EMIYA found the simple truth of that statement ironic. Had his desires really come full-circle? For the longest time, he'd only wished for oblivion, and release from the duties Alaya had imposed upon him. It was that drive that had prompted his meeting with his alternate self. It seemed that young Shirou Emiya's dream had rekindled his own. He was confident that Rin would keep his counterpart from repeating his past mistakes, so why was he about to go down that very path again? Opening his heart up to the stolen ideals of his adopted father... it would only cause him more pain. No matter how THIS world's Fate ended up, he was still a Counter Guardian. His destiny was slaughter, not salvation. The glimmer of hope in his soul refused to die that easily. Even if he'd wipe out ten thousand innocents in the next world, at least he'd saved one here. If possible, he wanted to save more with whatever time he had left. The Counter Guardian EMIYA might be fated to kill, but the Servant Archer could spend his time as a true Hero of Justice.

"In that case, I might have a temporary solution that could aid us both."

"Oh?" Archer was quite surprised that anyone would capable of such a thing, but if Dumbledore could help him save more people...

"Tell me, what would you think of teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts?"

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A/N:

This Archer is from the Unlimited Blade Works route, so his personality will be a bit between EMIYA and Shirou.