Thank you so much for the reviews for the previous chapter. In return for your support, here's the next chapter! It took a few days to crank out a lot of the content for this one, but eventually, I managed to do it.

I hope you all enjoy!

Best of days, Freedom.

It was probably the beds. Harry didn't know he'd hate it so much, but the softness of Hogwarts beds just didn't sit right with him. Even the hospital beds. Probably because softness and comfort wasn't a commodity he was used to.

But then again, waking up was a gift in the first place. He'd slept through artillery shelling, air raids and thunderstorms.

To be woken from a good sleep because it was too comfortable… Harry didn't know whether to be mad or just laugh.

But first, evaluate.

'How we feeling?'

When his eyes snapped open and he bolted upright, not only did he understand how much of a bloody awful headache he had, but that his body was in a lot more pain than it should have been.

Trying to meld minds with a beast would do that to some.

Falling from a great height after said attempt?

Double 'owe'

"Oh fuck" he hissed, falling back into the pillows reluctantly. He succumbed to their softness, even as his sharper than normal ears picked up Madam Pomfrey bustling her way over to his cott.

"You gave us all a right scare Mister Flamel" she announced herself before she stepped through the curtains, probably to let him know she was coming in.

Common courtesy.

Draco could learn a thing or two from her.

"Did I?" Harry grumbled, "wouldn't have guessed"

Poppy tisked at his tone but ultimately said nothing, instead opting to check him over with a series of diagnostic spells and charms.

"Everything's in order. But we'll be keeping you under bed rest for awhile, no doubt your bones are still settling" she left a second later.

'That was… quick' Harry thought, because usually Poppy would wait a bit longer to see if her patients were-

"He's awake, I'll give you all fifteen minutes at most. Any ruckus and you're out"

Oh.

Draco was the first through the curtain, followed closely by what seemed like every walk of life that 'Ares Flamel' associated with.

"Ares" Draco smiled as he stood beside Daphne on the left side of the bed. Both of them cast a look towards the other visitors.

Rose Potter, Cedric Diggory and Albus Dumbledore stood calmly on the other side.

"Hey" Harry nodded to them all, turning his eyes towards Dumbledore after a moment, "professor"

"Mister Flamel. It's good to you see all patched up my dear boy, but perhaps I can save our little chat until after you're friends can catch up with you" Albus smiled serenely. His eyes were twinkling again.

'Of course he wanted to talk with me'

"Certainly professor"

The Hogwarts headmaster nodded at the others before giving them their privacy, stepping out from the curtain.

He'd only come back one the others were gone.

"You're fucking crazy"

Rose instinctively punched Cedric in the arm. Hermione would never forgive her if she didn't dish out punishments for foul language.

Draco snorted, "you're just realising this?"

Daphne didn't look impressed, but the veneer of worry colored her features just around the surface.

"What you call crazy I call necessity" Harry muttered, closing his eyes for a moment and forcibly pushing the headache back.

"Dumbledore told us what you did!" Rose practically gushed, "you saved my life Ares! You also-" she stopped speaking as her mind caught up. Her head snapped down to the ground, her eyes breaking contact with his as fast as possible.

"What?"

Daphne huffed, turning her head away from him dismissively.

Okay….?

A newspaper was in Draco's hand in an instant, headline pointed toward the only bedridden individual.

'The Beauty and the Beast! Ares Flamel-'

Harry dropped his eyes down to the photo.

Rose was being held in his arms, the Egyptian King fiercely standing in the background of the image. A compelling photo to say the least.

"Oh for Merlin's sake" if Harry could have slumped further back in the bed, he would have.

Draco's cheshire grin threatened to split his face, "I'll be sure to regale you about it later"

"Especially the part about how you nearly lobotomised a Dragon" Cedric dragged the point around full circle.

"Excuse me?" Harry asked, feigning confusing.

"Apparently the dragon has been acting strange" Daphne stepped in, "the handlers told Diggory that it was subjected to some very powerful mind magic. It hasn't been responding to any of their commands or orders"

"So it's been what? Mentally scarred?"

Rose and Daphne frowned, Cedric's face was oddly blank.

Draco cleared his throat at Harry, getting his attention.

"Dumbledore tested the beast. He said it must have come from you"

Harry went silent. They knew now. Dumbledore would have informed them, or anyone at least, that he had used mind magic on the creature.

Perhaps that was why Poppy had been so skittish? Because she knew he could read her mind in a glance.

"You're a legilimens"

Cedric didn't ask. He stated.

Harry nodded. It was undeniable anyway. Anyone with a brain and a minor understanding of the more complex magics would know what it meant to be a practitioner of the mind arts.

"How good?"

But to what degree?

Any amount of skill in a magical topic, an individual's proficiencies, changes the essence of what they practice. In the case of the mind arts, one could skim the emotions on the surface of another in the barest form of the magic. A more proficient and powerful wizard or witch could subtly implant thoughts and commands.

Harry rolled around the opportunities in his head. The truth? It could be valued very highly in this situation. Would they all trust him afterwards, if he told them the truth. If the lie was exposed later, how would he mend any of the bridges broken, the trust shattered, if he didn't tell them.

Had he already burned everything? If Rose knew what he'd done to her.

How he'd manipulated her mind. Would she ever forgive him? Would she understand that he was just trying to protect her… to keep her safe.

No.

She wouldn't.

So perhaps the truth was the only commodity left?

Did lying actually benefit him anymore?

Within the first few days back, when he had seen the world fixed, whole and complete, he'd decided he do anything to save it. There was a line and Harry would cross it in order to save the world, but now was it worth it to cross the line?

Having spent enough times with the shades of his friends, enemies, and the people he once knew… no. The line was there, and it was going to stay there.

He wouldn't manipulate them from the shadows. The foundations had already been laid. There was no further need to lie to them anymore.

"Very"

At least, not a lot...

Harry met his gaze, feeling a pang of pain as the Diggory heir looked down at his own feet. Harry looked towards Draco, who just shrugged helplessly.

"You've got a lot of surprises under your belt Flamel" Daphne had a cold air around her tone, and Harry wasn't sure if it was because of the others, or that she'd found out something shocking about him.

"Who knows?" 'What kind of impact are we looking at?'

Draco caught the hidden meaning of his question, even if Harry had mumbled it as quietly as possible, seemingly forlorn that his secret was out.

"Only a handful of people. People who won't spread it" he glared at Rose and Cedric. The Hufflepuff shifted uncomfortably, while the Gryffindor stared at her feet.

If Harry played his cards right, they wouldn't.

"Is there anything else? Anything we should know about?" Cedric worded the question, but in the instant he started talking, Harry knew the query had come from Rose. She was the curious one, the one who needed to know.

The look of fear but concern was blended perfectly. It was what gave it away. That she was invested in him now. She would count on him.

Just like he had done with Sirius… Dumbledore… Ron….

Dead men and women.

Harry looked to the ceiling, "a few things, but nothing that'll invade your privacy"

Cedric nodded, "we're stuck in this tournament together Flamel. I'd prefer that we could work together as well" he gestured to Rose, "you saved both our lives, and you got two of the three eggs through. We're just behind Durmstrang, but I don't care about that"

Cedric lifted his shirt up, revealing his waist and the lashes that were healing. Points of the Egyptian King's tail had done that.

"I'm more concerned about getting out of this alive"

"Of course" Harry tilted his head down briefly, "I would make a vow to you, but my magic is all screwy right now" Harry let a spark travel between his fingers, "something about attempting to read a dragons mind?"

Diggory snorted.

Rose smiled.

Daphne let the ice cool off, and Draco sighed in exasperation.

"For what it's worth Flamel" Diggory turned to leave, pushing through the curtain halfway. He turned his head back to look towards the injured wizard.

Their eyes met. A strong stare, one that warned against any more funny business and secrets, but also a sign of trust.

"Thank you"

Harry dipped his head as the boy left.

"So, now that he's sorted" Harry turned his tired gaze to the others, "who's next?"

Rose shifted slightly, and without hesitation Harry's eyes snapped to her, "Potter?" Draco and Daphne fell in line with his decision, turning their heads to the girl. Rose shut down slightly under the attention, coughing into her hand, eyes cutting down towards the end of the bed.

"Rose"

She looked up at Harry, all wrapped in bandages and a soft smile on his charming face, "it's alright. What's wrong?"

"I'm weak"

It was blunt, straight forward and horribly accurate. The pain on her face gave away how hard it was for her to admit to such a statement. But she knew it was true. She couldn't turn her face away from the truth.

Voldemort's ultimate destruction lay with her. Regardless of how deeply she knew she was tied to the Dark Lord, she knew that one day, he'd come for her. And she'd have to be ready. To be prepared. Far more prepared than she currently was, with all those around her telling her not to worry, and everything would be alright.

She was getting closer and closer to the point that she would finally have to do something. She couldn't just sit back and let others fight her war, even if Dumbledore was adamant on letting such a thing happen.

"Yes you are" his words cut deeper into the girl than he expected.

She visibly flinched back at his candid tone.

Even as she began to shrink in on herself, Harry cut her out of it with a gentle nudge of his magic.

"But that changes the second you wish it to" he was still smiling at her, radiating comfort. He failed to notice the look of pure venom that Daphne shot Rose.

"I've always wished it. I've always wanted to help. This won't happen if no one tells me anything! If no one teaches me! I can't just-"

"Then let me teach you" Harry tilted his head, "after all, that's what you wanted? Correct?"

Rose narrowed her eyes at him, "did you-?"

"Read your mind? No. It was simple to see what you came here for. Lessons, correct?"

Rose looked down again, focusing on her shoes.

"I'm weak. But you're not. You've proven it time and time again. You're also probably the only person who'd be willing to teach me anything. Anything useful at least" she huffed at the end, glancing behind her briefly.

'Dumbledore must keep her on a tight chain' Harry idly considered as the girl stewed in the silence before his answer.

"I'll contact you later Rose, we can organise a time and date for lessons"

The girl simply smiled, thanked him and turned to leave.

This time however, Harry did not fail to see Daphne give the Potter girl a powerful glare. This was because he had noticed Rose turn and give the other girl one. Harry turned to Draco, confusion in his glance.

The Malfoy heir responded as honestly as he could.

Draco snorted into his hand.

"Daphne?"

The girl pulled her attention to Ares. Before he could speak, before a question was almost upon his lips, she practically snarled at him.

"You seem fine Flamel, try not to die" she was gone after that.

Draco laughed long and hard. Well, until a conjured stone bounced off his forehead.

"Ow"

"A part of me believes you deserved that"

Draco rubbed his head but pulled up a chair by the bedside. Since Harry's magic was still somewhat disturbed and fluctuating, Draco was responsible for the privacy spells.

A few minutes later the Malfoy left, leaving Harry alone in his bed.

Dumbledore would want to speak to him soon.

As soon as Neville's feet touched the ground, he leapt away. A brilliant bolt of lightning scorched the earth he had just stood at.

He felt the sudden heat that exploded from the earth, his mind knowing that it would have melted right through his armor.

"Oh my, someone's prepared"

That voice…

"Voldemort" Neville hissed, his sword appearing in hand, helmet suddenly covering his features.

A shadow slithered around the tombstones of the graveyard. Neville had apparated into the location looking for clues, hopefully to track down more information on the Man in Black and his operations.

But he'd managed to stumble across the Dark Bastard himself.

Perfect.

"You're far more prepared than the last two" the voice echoed from everywhere, and Neville brought his blade up, keeping his feet on a pivot as his ambusher toyed with him.

The monsters comment drew his attention towards the two corpses on the ground. One a few feet away from him, the other… well what he assumed had been another corpse, was splattered all over a large mausoleum.

"Let's dance Snake-face!" Neville roared, pulling deep pools of magic from his core, running them along the edge of his blade.

In a quick pirouette, everything was on fire, revealing the only place that wasn't burning, but should have been.

Neville's wand shot up, a series of counter curses and anti-shielding hexes following a moment after. They smashed into the protective dome, shattering it.

The Longbottom time traveller wasn't far behind, his large form smashing through tombstones as he charged towards the disoriented figure.

Once he got within a foot, the very flame that he had slathered the area with turned on him, great monsters and creatures forming from the embers and open fire.

His wand shifted in form, a shield now held in his right arm. It looked to be made of steel and embroidered with the Longbottom family crest, but it was a magical transformation, one that absorbed all the magical fire that approached its user.

With the threat put behind him in a mere second, Neville continued his charge towards the apathetic Dark Lord. His magic had more than certainly rendered Voldemort confused for a second, but he'd only have the drop on him in the next few moments.

His sword cleaved down on the black cloaked figure.

Blood spurted from open sides of the torso, blood that was as black as night. Oddly enough, Neville felt like he had expected it to be like that.

That when he finally killed Voldemort, just like in his dreams he'd…

He'd…

Something was wrong.

"I think that's enough of that"

The world shifted. Reverting back to the very moment Neville had stepped foot in the space.

The damage of the fire had vanished. The destroyed gravestones reformed. Reality fixed itself.

A wand found its way to the back of Neville's unarmoured head. He'd never actually put his helmet on. He'd never actually drawn his sword. He hadn't done anything, except get caught in illusionary magic.

Taking a careful moment to stretch out his senses, he caught the subtle feel of the magical wards.

His opponent had sensed Neville's searching magic, "I know that it takes all the fun out of it, but I'm fairly busy today. People to see, places to be, you know"

"Be done with it then, you monster"

"Monster? You hardly know-"

"Kill me and be done with it" Neville turned on the man, "Voldemort"

The face was obscured by darkness, but Neville had still heard the voice, he still knew who it was.

The wand had found its way between his eyes, nested carefully just above the bridge of his nose.

The silence extended longer than Neville expected.

Was this sick bastard trying to draw out Nevilles final moments, just to torment him? Was he debating using the torture curse? He had no clue what was-

"As I live and breathe… Neville Longbottom" the wand did not move, even as the Dark Lord exclaimed to one of the few people that truly knew what and who he was.

"What a fantastic opportunity you've given me heir Longbottom" Voldemort simpered, intentionally dragging the word 'heir' out.

"But as it stands… you will be far more valuable to me alive, then dead… after all" Nevile felt a layer of magic overcome him, forcibly knocking him unconscious.

The silky tones whispered into his ears as his eyes began to flutter closed.

"Remember dear Neville, the enemy of my enemy is my friend"

When Neville would awake, he would begin to lather himself in defensive magic, spell after spell trying to locate some kind of horrid addition the Dark Lord had left with him.

But as the night slowly began to turn too day, Neville couldn't find anything.

And while he suspected that there was some kind of magic that had been utilised on him, one that would bend his opinions and mind, it would be too late before he learnt the truth.

That the only thing Voldemort had left him with was his words.

"A moment of your time, a few simple questions" Albus was the first to speak. Both of them stood by a window in the Hospital Ward, a surprisingly bright day having cast its rays down upon all of the school.

"I feel the word simple, and the great Albus Dumbledore are not synonymous" Ares bluntly retorted, not bothering to turn and face the headmaster. Both of them were content with the view that Hogwarts provided.

After Draco had left, Albus hadn't wasted any time to sweep into the room, kindly asking if Ares had wished to exit the bed he had been stuck in.

Poppy had granted that request, but they had been only allowed to remain within the infirmary. She still wasn't sure if Flamel's magic was stable, and letting him out of her sight with that current lack of information was not something she could stand by.

"Are you familiar with the concept of Lords?" Dumbledore was idly spinning a few translucent lights between his fingers, like he was juggling an ethereal coin of colors.

Ares closed up on the headmaster. Albus could see the reaction out of the corner of his eye. Flamel had stiffened, but ultimately did not answer.

He allowed the boy his silence, not bothering to prompt anymore response or queries.

"Vaguely" was the only word he allowed.

Albus smiled kindly at the window, knowing that while neither of them directed their attention at the other, both were observant and weary.

"There are many theories that support, explain and understand the individuals our society deems as Lords" Dumbledore felt calm while explaining the topic, but he knew the boy would catch on to what he was suggesting.

"The most popular, is that those born with exceptionally sized magical cores have a predisposition towards leading. Merlin was such a wizard, many Dark Lords were known to be surprisingly powerful at such a young age, and I am a shining example of such a theory"

"But what of an individual like Voldemort?"

"Tom Riddle was exactly why I do not believe in that Theory of Lords"

As the name was dropped, Flamel turned his gaze onto Dumbledore, eyes narrowed. Dumbledore knew what was going through the boys' mind. That Snape, or some other professor, or at least someone with access to his things, knew he had figured it out.

Someone had told Dumbledore that Ares Flamel was investigating Tom Riddle. Since Albus already knew that the Dark Lord Voldemort and the Riddle head boy of so many years past were the same, it was clear as to why Flamel had been researching the man.

He had drawn the connection. When one had disappeared, the other had been born.

Albus knew of Ares's hatred of the Dark Lord. He knew of the anger that the boy felt for the man. So he was willing to let the boy keep this information to himself. Not only would it show that he could hold a trustable connection with Dumbledore, but that Albus had no plans of keeping the information quiet if Ares so wished.

It could be out in the papers the very next day.

Well the old man also wanted to clearly demonstrate to Flamel that he was still capable of keeping up with the youngsters.

Flamel seemed to accept that Albus had been spying on him, probably already correctly assuming that Snape was the informant. His gaze shifted back to the view.

"So Tom wasn't powerful?"

"No no no" Dumbledore corrected, "the boy was strong, but nothing like Grindelwald or myself. No, what separates him from the others, is exactly what I believe separates a Lord, a true Lord, from those that come close"

"And that is?"

"Intent"

"Intent?"

"Intent" Dumbledore nodded, "it is what governs all of magic. A law that cannot be transgressed, one that truly puts the wonder of magic into existence"

Dumbledore flipped the magic away from his hand, dismissing it casually.

"A lord is someone who knew what they needed to be the moment they were born into this world. Where they have no doubts, no questions, and no hesitations towards whatever goal they believe to be crucial. Magic understands this, and it believes them as well, bending simply to their whim. Because a Lord does not need permission from another to do what they believe in. For them, this is their very purpose of existence"

Flamel seemed confused.

"Then wouldn't someone who was content and happy to bake cakes all day, wouldn't they be a Lord in their own right?" Ares shrugged, "if I was content being a baker, then that would mean-"

"They have already reached their station, achieved their purpose. Magic has helped them along the way, but through no serious effort of itself. It does not take much to become a baker, as you put it. Not in comparison to ruling the entirety of Europe.. A feat such as that is an intent layered far deeper than to be lost in obscurity"

"Which is why we only hear about powerful Lords" Ares realised, eyes widening slightly.

"For their goals are grand" Dumbledore nodded sagely, his eyes closing for a moment.

"And you think I've become one, haven't you"

The old man smiled down at Flamel, turning to face him directly. The taller boy also turned, each of them matching their gaze. Albus refused to display any sense of hostility. Flamel had layered his gaze with his usual layer of ice and frigidness.

"I think, that you already know the answer to that question Mister Flamel" Albus ducked his head slightly, "if you wish to discuss anything further, my door is always open"

"Thank you Headmaster" it was just common courtesy. Flamel's mouth had responded on instinct, his mind still wrapped around the implications of what Dumbledore had suggested.

Albus left the boy staring out the window, gently telling Poppy to give the boy some space.

He was considering what his very existence entailed, why he was here.

The day waned, night was going to be upon the castle in a handful of hours. With Poppy focused on her other tasks, Ares suddenly vanished in a static flicker.

He had something to investigate.

James looked up at the unfamiliar noise. It had almost sounded like… apparition. Something that didn't bode well.

He'd walked off into the woods for a quick leak and a chance to clear his head of Hargreaves bullshit.

The wanker had been sending him a series of details regarding the traveler, some that just seemed outlandish for a regular wizard.

James hadn't had this many dealings with the head Unspeakable in a long time, and even those were supposed to be bi-weekly.

He'd finally managed to get his way out of the office due to the whole, 'dragon briefly breaks out at Triwizard Tournament' situation.

Enough complaints had been put in by Hogwarts families after the little debacle with the dragon, that an Auror investigation was warranted.

James knew that he had shamelessly pulled enough strings in the office to get himself and Sirius tagged onto Hogwarts ground, but the photo of his daughter in the paper. The gnawing pit it had created in his stomach.

And how Flamel had saved her. Enough of the eyewitness accounts alone practically forced James to believe the article that Rita Skeeter had cobbled together.

An article that further insinuated a more personal connection between his daughter and Ares Flamel.

The dark haired Slytherin boy… who was currently walking towards the very same Dragon Enclosure that James was responsible for investigating.

Was he wearing…?

James had been under Poppy's sweet care enough times to know that Ares had come straight from the infirmary.

If the information around Flamel doing something sketchy to the Egyptian King he'd faced was true, then perhaps he was here to erase evidence.

And there was something sketchy going on.

James had been briefed on the reports of the Dragon's odd behaviour, how it seemed hyper-aggressive at times, before simply sleeping.

Apparently this was not normal, not for this specific dragon, and for the species as well.

So seeing Flamel making a beeline for the temporary enclosures was evidence enough for James.

The Auror followed from a distance, his wand out and his attention focused on Flamel.

He seemed disheveled and tired, but his step was purposeful. He knew why he was here, and James further held back the need to question him. Why not just let the guilty party act, proving that they were guilty, rather than stepping in.

James shook himself from his stupor as Flamel expertly disillusioned himself. It wasn't a full charm or spell, but it had the effect of making him partially invisible.

And James could see why he went with it. In fact, he begrudgingly respected the kid for being so forward thinking.

The enclosures that held the dragon's before the date of their international transport sometime next week were open-faced, revealing each species clearly to any onlookers.

Not many of the Handlers were around, only a handful were required to keep watch on the dragons. The rest of their troop were hidden away in a tent not far off from the row of cages.

So Flamel wanted to observe something. It was clear that he wanted to see something about the dragons. If he had cast any large scale spells, or used any heavy magic to keep himself concealed, it would alert any of the Dragon Handlers to the boy.

They were people that dealt with incredibly powerful creatures on a daily basis, so naturally they would keep wards that would warn them of powerful spells used in the proximity of their beasts.

As Flamel approached the cages, one of the beasts reacted.

It was the Egyptian King. The one Flamel had subdued somehow.

James watched in anticipation from the tree line, waiting for the boy to give away whatever ability or technique he had utilised to detain the beast.

A few people started shouting as the King rocked its cage, bashing against the bars that were in front of it.

Men and women burst from the tent, wands out and pointed towards the commotion. Their eyes were only on the dragon, so none of them noticed Flamel's partially hidden, and very still figure, 10 meters from the cage.

But James did notice him. He also noticed how the beast was staring at Flamel.

Even as it pushed up against the cage, it's eyes were on Flamel only. James could honestly admit that he would have been dead terrified in Flamel's position.

And while James was being honest about things, he also admitted that the closest noise that the dragon was making would be a….

Keening noise.

It warbled.

It was sad.

And it had eyes for Flamel only.

Ares took a step back, something that James could barely see through the boy's illusionary magic, but the Dragon whined in annoyance.

Almost instantly, when Flamel stepped forward, the King's tongue dropped from its mouth, and its tail swished through the air. It was wagging it like…

Like a dog.

By Merlin's balls.

James knew he was gapping, and even as the Dragon was sedated from it's high energy condition and Flamel made his escape.

He couldn't help but be impressed.

Ares Flamel had tamed a dragon somehow. Something unheard of. He was stuck between being impressed, and being awed.

Instead the Potter family head made a reasonable decision.

He settled for still being mad at the boy since he was flirting with his daughter.

The house was old. But it was his Lord's home. Rodolphus knew this. Far before the Dark Lord had reached the height of his power, Regulus Black had come to him with the truth. That they were led by a filthy half-blood. That their beliefs, were helmed by the unclean, one that could not even be deposed due to the defenses that had been placed against death.

Horcruxes.

Ones that were hidden around the world, each in a private location, one related to the mortal identity of the Dark Lord, Voldemort.

So he had come here. The Gaunt family home.

A home dead and forgotten to those of the wizarding world.

But Regulus had found it. He had discovered the link of Tom Marvolo Riddle, and Merope Gaunt.

The last of Salazar Slytherin's line. A noble blood that had been diluted by filthy muggle blood.

He was here to destroy the anchor.

The home used to have wards. Wards designed to keep wizards out. The muggle ones were still strong and in place, forever cementing the protection of the home from non magicals. Feeling the ward lines as he passed over them, the Lestrange brother noticed the discrepancy between the two of them. One was still being fed power, but it was no longer functional.

Wait.

It was the magical one that had been shattered.

Someone had apparated into the home.

There was someone here.

Rodolphus Lestrange raised the wand he had stolen. With the soft step most Lestranges had inherited, he swept up to the large and imposing black doors.

While the Gaunts were a poor family, one that had fallen into disrepute and bad fortune, being a sacred family granted them certain privileges.

Such as the right to keep their ancestral home.

No matter how much one magical family detested another, those of the old blood would never force another, even an enemy, from their homes.

It was here that all those years ago Regulus had promised the Gaunt Ring would lay.

If the intruder hadn't already stolen it.

Rodolphus quietly unlocked the door, his gaze focusing on the interior of the gaunt foyer. There were a few destroyed statues, empty portraits, and holes in the wall. Charred supports, and blackened tapestries.

A fire had ripped through here.

A long time ago.

Three spells rocketed toward him from the second floor landing. Rodolphus swiftly moved out of the way, replying with a slicing hex, a killing curse and a large blasting spell.

His assailant, the intruder, was no slouch.

A strange multicolored light exploded into the space, and the Lestrange brother flinched away from it. Something itched in his senses, a warning.

He quickly apparated into the drawing room.

Not a second too late either.

A large explosion rocked the foyer, sending dust and wind hurtling into the ruined drawing room.

Rodolphus flung the destroyed and archaic furniture at the doorway, expecting his attacker to enter through it.

The blasting curse that followed the wooden objects turned them into a hail of splinters.

Nothing moved. The air was still.

He lurched back as something shot down from the ceiling. The spike that had nearly caved in his skull remained. Even though the tip of it was embedded into the floor, Rodolphus could see the red stain of where it had nicked his skin.

And suddenly the ceiling came alive.

This would be a hard-pressed fight.

Harry had him trapped in the drawing room, forcing the ground to manipulate itself into spikes. Whoever this was, he was fast on his feet and a very quick thinker.

His detection spell caught movement, and Harry launched more spikes down at him.

This would be dealt with in a few….

The very same spikes that he had forced through the floor were hurtled back up towards him, slicing through the air and nearly rending him in half. Instead they passed through him as if he was made of air, leaving nothing but whisp like holes in his body.

Harry clutched the small disk in his hand, vanishing from the room and reappearing in the master bedroom of the gaunt house. He was still on the second floor, and this attacker was still located in the drawing room.

But not for long.

The Sacclarius appeared in his hand, open and ready.

Harry wasn't going to take any precautions with a wizard that was prepared and ready. But he also wasn't going to kill whoever this was.

He wanted to know how they knew to come here. Who else was out there that was aware of the original locations for the Horcruxes.

So with this in mind, he allowed a small vial to appear in mid-air. Catching it, Harry tilted his head back and put two drops into each of his nostrils.

Instantly, red scratches, lines and dashes appeared all over the structure, telling him where people had stepped and moved in the past.

The more obvious lines, the ones that had not faded… these were the lines of sent that would take him to the individual. Focusing on this particular thread, Harry drew an ornate dagger from him person.

He needed only to scratch his opponent.

The poison that coated the blade would do the rest.

Rodolphus stilled as the flare of magic washed over the room above him. Something in his gut told him that the intruder had survived his counter attack.

The fool hadn't expected him to be so good in transfiguration.

But not silence reigned over the house again, the only noise being the harsh breathing of Rodolphus. He knew for certain that he hadn't killed the other.

So to any battle competent wizard, the other was planning something, or was at least up to something.

Silence was never a good noise between two wizards fighting.

Out of the corner of his eye, shadows shifted, darting towards him.

The ex-Death Eater whipped his wand towards the approaching individual, three different curses on his lips.

Except the boy, that he could clearly see was a boy, was much faster than him.

Much faster. If the tip of the blade that had sunk into his shoulder was anything to go by. A foreign hand firmly gripped his wand hand, forcing the spells he had cast to pass harmlessly over the boy's shoulder.

The next instant he was forced to look into the deep green eyes of a boy he couldn't recognise.

A man like him almost felt insulted that he had been bested by someone so young, but there was something about the eyes that caught him off guard. Something that he wondered about even as he began to slip into unconsciousness.

Rodolphus Lestrange didn't know it, but both him and the Gaunt family ring, Voldemort's Horcrux, were transported into the chamber of secrets.

And there they would be held, until Ares Flamel wished to speak with them.

Days Later

He'd already figured out the egg before. In the previous timeline. The old world.

And while it was nice to go to the prefects bathroom again, his attention was on the egg each champion received for completing the first task.

Because the egg was different. While it was a golden egg, there was no clasp on the top. No reaction to water. It could be opened, but the sounds that came from the egg were a deep and ancient chant.

One that Harry barely recognised.

It wasn't mermish. The inscriptions and engraving on the side was another language, one far older than the tones spoken by those of the depths.

So after taking a very unnecessary bath in Hogwarts largest bubble bath, Harry made his way to the library. There, he'd probably find what he was looking for.

But the sinking feeling within his chest reminded him that he was most likely not dealing with the challenge in the black lake.

This would be something different.

Something new.

Nicholas Flamel was wandering the woods of his property, a small notebook tucked into his pocket, ready to be retrieved at a moments notice.

After all, one does need to keep a lengthy reminder on the health of the trees. Which ones needed caring, which were beyond saving, and so forth.

"He hasn't called a council meeting in weeks"

Nicholas nodded idly as the figure came around a particularly thick tree. He was wearing the same white robes he always did, but the grey cowl had been pulled down, revealing his strong features and hard blue eyes.

"He's secluded himself, seems to only speak with the Warlock" the man continued, moving alongside Flamel, who was writing down some nonsense about using different dirt.

"Something must have changed?" Flamel asked, "he wouldn't act like this normally"

"One of our old meeting sites was compromised. He believes there's a spy" the taller man said, keeping in stride with the old Alchemist, "I'm not sure if he suspects one of the council members, or any of our underlings, but someone will be punished. He liked that location"

Flamel quirked up an eyebrow, "really? A graveyard is a bit of a morbid taste"

"His mother and father were buried there"

"Ah"

They returned to silence, walking together. It was the German who broke the silence after they came to stop at a very strange blue tree.

"Are you sure you trust the traveler?" the taller man finally asked, the question obviously working through him on multiple levels.

Flamel regarded the tree for a moment.

The German wanted to make contact with the traveler, to learn if there was any possible way to defeat the man in black.

Nicholas sometimes regretted telling the man this, but he couldn't confide with Pernelle. Someone to discuss the motives of another from a different world.

Where things had become so misshapen and horrid, trying to justify those outcomes was becoming harder and harder every day.

"Raphael, I hardly trust you, let alone a time travelling war veteran, but I've been keeping my eyes open on what he's been up to. So far, so good"

The German, now identified as Raphael huffed, "I still don't know why you hide his identity. Both of us could kill him for certain"

"Because he is too young" Nicholas bit back before thinking.

Both of them looked at the other, the hard glaze of Nicholas's eyes communicating a wordless threat to the other, Raphael.

"I will share no more" Nicholas tried to power ahead, but Raphael's hand clasped his shoulder, forcing him to remain.

"The traveling process isn't supposed to do that"

Nicholas remained silent.

"I've already figured out that he's lived through the war, which by your own admission was a lengthy experience. A teenager, let alone a child, wouldn't have the capability of surviving such a war Nicholas. So because of his transfer back, some external circumstance, he's become younger"

Nicholas said nothing.

"Which is strange, because the Warden had captured all the other travelers, bar one. Each of them had not been affected in such a way. So why him? Why did the portal revert his age"

"The time Traveler is Ares Flamel" Nicholas finally said, "but you already figured it out, haven't you Raphael"

The man didn't nod, his hard stare still wishing to get his question across to the Alchemist. Nicholas sighed.

"I have considered this. And while it does bring forth a series of questions I am not comfortable with, I still trust the boy. I would not have formally adopted him if I did not"

And the silence had returned.

Both studied the path that they walked on, or in the Alchemist's case, the trees that lined it.

Raphael opened his mouth to speak, but uncharacteristically, Flamel cut across him.

"You're Grandfather thought that war was the answer" Nicholas began, noticing the twitch in his eye, "he married in secret, had your father, and still continued his war, even though his heart belonged to the same man that opposed him"

Raphael said nothing.

"The man in black believes in his war. He has lived through horrible acts of violence, he has lived and breathed the bitterness and hatred of humanity. A fresh slate is the only solution"

Flamel stopped walking, and turned his whole body to face Raphael.

"And I have seen the results of both now. This is why I place my trust in the one person who wishes to do nothing more than prevent all of it"

The taller man nodded slowly, understanding where the Alchemist was coming from.

A bright flash emanated from his wrist, drawing both of their attention to the mark that was located there.

"I must go now" he nodded gruffly.

Flamel said nothing.

Raphael Grindelwald vanished.

Nicholas continued his little plant inspection in a peaceful silence.

Harry found himself staring down his reflection in a mirror. He had tried to find any way around attending this damn event once again, but unfortunately, the rules were clear.

The Yule Ball was happening. And he would be one of the main dancing pairs, with or without his consent.

With regard to his partner though…

Well he knew who'd be waiting for him outside his door. They hadn't had the need to communicate with one another, just more of a mutual understanding.

He would accompany a very beautiful Daphne Greengrass to the Ball, and if he was anything less than charming, he'd find himself on the business end of Tracey Davis's wand.

Most of Slytherin had come to realise their little 'relationship', and thankfully the gossip hadn't spread to the other houses.

Daphne had tried to get her claws as deep as possible into him, and Harry had welcomed it, finding the girl's efforts to be not only amusing, but heartwarming.

In her cold, and most certainly calculated, way.

A presence approached the door to his room, and Harry swiped away the silencing charm.

He knew who it was.

Seems as though she had gotten ready by now. Checking his watch, a recent addition to his wardrobe, he noted only thirty minutes before the opening dance.

"Fuck" he hissed.

The Greengrass heir had heard him, if the musical note of laughter was anything to go by. Harry sauntered up to the door, pulling his sleeves idly as Daphne spoke through the wood at him.

"Not to bother you my lord, but we are-"

Harry opened the door, allowing her to gaze upon his form at his full height. He very clearly saw the red hue that lit her up from the collarbone to her face.

A full flush.

Harry swiped away any kind of lame poker joke in exchange for giving her a dashing smile, full of expectation.

"Yes?"

Oh that bastard. Daphne knew she resembled some kind of molten metal right now, but it was deserved. His hair was combed back, controlled yet a few strands errantly dashed across his features. His angular face was clean shaven, giving him the same strong princely look he had at Draco's party.

And the robes. Oh my did his form stand out well in those robes. Black, with lines of green so scarcely balanced on the edges of wisps of his top. He'd forgone the same green plan for his pants, but in the end, he still looked so subtly, yet obviously, Slytherin.

And he was hers for the night.

"Yes?" his voice finally drew her from her thoughts, dragging her eyes up to his face once more, and the smile that crested his features.

He was enjoying every second of this.

"We are expected" Daphne managed to huff, drawing him from the room and towards the exit of the common room.

Daphne was getting the heat under control as she stepped into the sparsely populated common room.

But then he opened his damn mouth again.

"Lead the way..." he chuckled, before his voice dropped quieter than she'd ever heard it before.

"My lady"

Daphne powered past everyone, refusing to acknowledge the absolute burn she was probably wearing obviously on her skin.

Rose knew McGonagall was losing her patience. But since Flamel wasn't one of her lions, and Snape couldn't be bothered to get his wayward student, it appeared that Flamel would be late for the opening dance.

Dean Thomas stood beside her, a date that had barely been selected, but everyone knew that Dean had a weakness for pretty girls.

But Rose was still searching for the Slytherin champion, so she'd have to scold Ron later for putting any thoughts into Dean's head. The boy seemed really happy with himself that Rose had come to him, and the girl just didn't have it in her to snub the boy.

Fleur Delacour had stolen the hearts and minds of almost every wizard in attendance. Her beauty was radiant and practically shone through the pale blue dress that she wore.

The men stood firm and strong. Cedric's white, and deep yellow coated clothing reflected the Diggory Family crest, something that stood unique among all the others.

Krum wore black and red, looking powerful yet kind with Hermione on his arm.

How that had happened Rose had no idea.

But all the other contestants had shown up looking glamorous and strong, as they had been told to. And as the clock ticked further and further, they seemed to also be the punctual ones.

McGonagall was going to throttle-

The door that every champion and their partner stepped through flew open, but it did not crash or make a noise.

Everyone was drawn to the movement.

"Sorry everyone, I got lost on the road of life"

Rose felt something stir in her belly, even as Flamel stepped into the room with the most gorgeous witch she'd ever seen on his arm. His smile was causing things to flip in directions she wasn't comfortable with. He was gorgeous. She'd realised this before, from the very moment they had met and he'd handed Hermione a book, but now it was being shoved in her face.

Daphne Greengrass was a very lucky witch.

Cameras were taking photos as fast as they could, and Rita Skeeter was manically writing as fast as she could.

Flamel was always good news.

His comment got laughs out of the some of the Slytherin's, but others looked at him in confusion as he stepped up with the other champions, ready to dance.

He wasn't embarrassed about being late, and even if McGonagall wanted to throttle the boy, she couldn't let the Yule Ball wait any longer.

And like that, the music struck up and they began to dance.

Fleur Delacour kept her eye on Flamel, even as her date for the night, Rodger Davis, talked with her.

The poor boy had no clue that she had her eye on another. As soon as Flamel had stepped into the space, Fleur knew how she wanted this night to end. He was no boy. So she would not treat him like one.

She'd seen what he was capable of.

She'd seen the magic.

And short of a small red book, he most certainly fit the outline for her hero. For the one who had saved her from the Death Eater attack.

If it wasn't him… Fleur had no clue.

But she wanted to find out.

And she would.

Tonight was her night.

From her clear line of sight on him, she saw as Cedric Diggory graciously took a dance with Daphne Greengrass, allowing the Potter girl to step in with Flamel.

The timid girl didn't know what to do with a man like that.

So Fleur waited.

"Miss Potter" Ares smiled at her, sweeping them into the main bundle of dancers. He was a gallant boy, smart on his feet, and a good dancer.

Rose felt like she was fumbling in the dark with anyone else of that night, but with Flamel, her body seemed to respond on its own, moving perfectly in step with him.

"Mister Flamel" she grinned back at him, ignoring the extra attention that Skeeter was giving them from afar.

"Is your plan to create yet another headline?" he cocked his head, "we seem to be awfully good at that"

She giggled, something that in normal circumstances would have mortified her. Ron would have demanded what had been done with the real her, but Rose felt it natural for now.

He really was charming.

"We shouldn't rush it, though" she thoughtfully considered as he brought her into a brief twirl, "wouldn't want to run out of options too early, no matter how good we are together"

His face dipped for a few moments. Rose felt herself lock up slightly, even as they kept dancing.

Had that been to forward?

It was obvious that Daphne Greengrass, the vile snake, had gotten something out of him. Rose didn't know if they were dating or not, as Slytherin gossip was the rarest of all Hogwarts gossip.

Before she could get a response, an aggravatingly familiar french tone wandered into the space between them.

"May I have this dance?" Fleur Delacour completely declined to notice Rose, her attention solely focused on Flamel.

The green eyes of Ares fixed themselves on the Girl Who Lived, a plea behind them, some kind of indecipherable emotion.

In that instance Rose knew that he felt something. That there was something there, and it was for her.

He might not be able to say it currently, and he might not ever admit it, but she knew.

Ares Flamel did like her.

"He's all yours" Rose sarcastically snarked to the French girl, who seemed mildly surprised at the vitriol in her tone.

But she didn't spend any more time considering the two of them. The party was winding down, couples were getting drunk and wandering off. Rose was going to find a drink or two, bump into Ron, and they'd do something stupid.

Probably involving burning something.

Hopefully something French.

"Follow me"

And Flamel did. He wordlessly stepped after Fleur into the garden that had been erected for the tournament.

Other couples had wandered into the tall hedges, some of them in various states of undress and lacking certain pieces of clothing.

For some, Fleur could smell the alcohol wafting right off of them.

They found themselves in a stone gazebo, one with magically heated walls, and a beautiful view of an arrangement of flowers.

Fleur had to be honest and admit that the Hogwarts botanical selections were… superior to Beauxbatons. They didn't have the raw beauty that was present here.

"You've got me all alone" Flamel came up beside her, a smile you could call cocky dominating his face, "what's the next step in your nefarious plan?"

Fleur smirked at him, using her wand to summon the bottle of Fire Whisky from the seal on her back.

"To get the both of us horribly drunk" she stated simply, a casually slant in her form as she rested on the balustrade of the gazebo.

She was pleased to note that Flamel's eyes tracked the curve of her back, ending on her rear before he practically wrenched them to her face.

"Something tells me this is a bad idea" he replied honestly, conjuring two glasses for both of them.

"How so?" Fleur replied innocently, a casual smile on her charming features.

Flamel sighed and poured them two shots.

Her hands raked down his naked back. Through the haze of it all, she gasped as his lips found the small of her neck. She clutched to him further, a burn in her core as he pulled away. They lay together on her bed, having found need for further privacy.

In all honesty, she hadn't expected him to get so drunk. And for a further note, she hadn't expected his entire attitude to change when she first kissed him.

He had responded. Eagerly. Far too eagerly for a drunk man. A part of her wondered if this had been his plan all along, but as his clothed length brushed up against her leg, she had to take some credit for herself.

She panted roughly as he hovered above her, his powerful arms keeping her closed in.

Trapped, beneath him. This beast.

"To many..." Fleur mumbled, her hands slowly moving to his sides.

His face mimicked his confusion.

Her hands traced down from his ribcage, swiftly dancing across his abs to his waist line.

"Clothes" she smiled wickedly, even as he vanished everything from their bodies. She was pleased to note all of it appear on the floor beside her bed.

But her attention was drawn elsewhere as he lowered himself down the length of her form.

"Ohhhhh" she groaned softly as he demonstrated some of his… talents.

This would be a long night for both of them.

Oh dear. Someone decided to let themselves go and satisfy their baser instincts... or did they? Anywho, any comments suggestions and ideas are welcome. Once again I haven't decided the pairing yet, so this story can go in many directions from here on out. Those of you that review constantly, and always provide me with support, my thanks goes to you primarily. Any of you that have responded to my challenge two chapters ago, much appreciated, but I am sad to inform you that the position is still open.

Aside from all things, I've been good. You can expect the next chapter in a bit of time since I've got some shit on my plate, but since the weather has dropped to a below freezing, ill be indoors mostly anyways.

Thanks and have a good day.

-Freedom.