Disclaimer: Original ideas are MINE... Harry Potter belongs to Rowling... Get over it.

Harry Potter and the Secrets of Alchemy

Prologue

Late in the day on the 30th of June, a young man walked thoughtlessly towards his relative's house. The sky was just turning twilight, although no stars were visible through the thick blanket of smog that covered the sky on hot days. The young man, although he hardly looked it, was nearly 16. Standing around 5 foot 6 inches, he had a slight though slightly muscular frame. His hair was short and black, although if you looked closely enough there were streaks of dark auburn red highlighting it.

His face had lost most of its baby-fat over the past year and now featured sharp, though elegant lines that many would associate with coming from a high-class family whose lineage could be traced back centuries to ancient lords and kings. His skin was lightly tanned, somewhere below olive toned, but far from the pale white that was generally associated with the aristocratic. The most stunning of his features however were his eyes, a bright almost luminous green; they highlighted his features and captured the attention of all who passed him. The only marring feature on him, was a scar - shaped like a bolt of lightning, it shone an angry blood red above his left eye.

The young man, Harry Potter, was returning from one of his weekly visits with the only person he could trust. The previous year at school, Harry had been stuck in the middle of a political battle between his headmaster, and the ministry. The Ministry of Magic, for Harry was a wizard, was a corrupt organization led by money hungry witches and wizards with no cares for the wizarding world. At the end of the year Harry and 5 of his fellow students were involved in a battle at the Department of Mysteries, an organization older than the Ministry itself – the department held all that was unknown in the world. Their work was rarely if never released to the general public.

During the battle, Harry's godfather Sirius Black was struck down by a curse from his cousin and enemy Death Eater, Bellatrix Lestrange. In his anger, Harry pursued her and attempted to torture her with the most illegal pain curse in existence, the Cruciatus Curse. Casting this curse on another human being is highly illegal and gains an automatic sentence of life in prison. Harry was later returned, though slightly bruised, to his Headmaster's office where a prophecy was revealed to him:

The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies… And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not… And either must die at the hand of the other, for neither shall live while the other survives… The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…

Looking back on it, Harry didn't mourn for Sirius, yes there was pain at losing a friend, yes there was anguish at the loss of a godfather, but as was explained to him during the summer; Harry didn't know Sirius. While he may have been the best friend of his father, Harry didn't know him all that well. He couldn't tell you Sirius' favourite food, book, joke, or even what type of shoe he preferred to wear. In the end, the most pain Harry felt was at leaving Remus Lupin's side for Sirius. During his third year at school Harry and the then professor had become close – all that had disappeared at the drop of a hat when Sirius arrived.

After the death of Sirius, Remus had disappeared. Nobody had heard anything of the lonely werewolf since meeting Harry's relatives at the train station after returning from school. Over the past month, Harry had been given a new perspective on his life – an outsider's view. A view into his life being moulded by his headmaster, Albus Dumbledore had severely restricted Harry's life over the summer. Keeping him on a direct path to and from his relatives' home to a nearby park; Dumbledore had assigned guards to watch him around the clock, in addition to the many security wards that had been erected over the past year. Letters from his friends had been far and few between, mostly consisting of "Dumbledore has ordered us to stay quiet… who knows who could be reading our mail!" which had become quite the standard for letters to him over the past year. Dumbledore himself had told Harry not to expect any presents for his birthday, his mail was being screened.

For the first few days of summer, he wallowed in self pity over the situation he was in. Isolated from the world, he had nothing to do but read over his text books. Harry had learned all he could from the text-books; most of the material wasn't covered by the curriculum and was quite interesting. One day while he was practising potions with his leftover supplies, he was interrupted by a scoff which could only belong to one person.

"Something I can help you with, Snape?" Harry said, still stirring the bubbling concoction.

A slight rustling was heard as his greasy-haired potions professor pulled and invisibility cloak off of his shoulders.

"Of course not Potter, I was simply remarking that even during the summer your potions skills are barely adequate. It's a wonder this bedroom hasn't been destroyed by your pathetic attempts at the art."

Harry paused in stirring before he burst into laughter.

"Potter – what are you doing! How stupid can you get, the Homorphous Solution must be stirred constantly to prevent-" Snape was cut off however as the potion began to bubble rapidly before the cauldron spewed its contents over the room with a loud Splat!

"I'm sorry, Sir," Harry said between laughs, "I was nearly convinced that attitude was an act for school – I didn't know anyone spoke like that outside the classroom!"

A sneer was the only response as the older wizard waved his wand removing the mess from the room.

Over the next few weeks, Harry and Snape built up a witty rapport that could at times make Mundungus Fletcher blush. While Harry gained a new respect for the Potions Master, Snape began to notice the small things that Dumbledore was doing to Harry – a small restriction here, would make Harry grateful to the old wizard later for allowing him freedoms. It made Snape sick to think of how many lives Dumbledore had manipulated to his own will. And so, secretly, Snape began meeting Harry on his walks to the park, discussing the latest news from both the Order and Death Eaters, something Harry greatly appreciated.

Through this communication, both men grew to trust each other, although they still had their doubts as to the other's motives.

When Harry reached the Dursley's he went straight to his small bedroom and began reading the set of defence books he had received last Christmas from Remus and Sirius, he had nearly finished the last book – Practical Defensive Magic and Its Use Against the Dark Arts Vol. 3 – Cursing the Count: A Guide to Fighting Dark Creatures Vampires and Werewolves included - when an envelope fell into his lap. Surprised, Harry turned it over to reveal a red seal with a steaming phial, a stone, and what appeared to be a coin. Slitting it open, he pulled out the letter – which was written on very expensive looking parchment, skipping to the signature at the end of the parchment, Harry's eyes grew wide as he began to read.

Dear Mr Potter,

Although we've never met, I do believe myself to be quite well versed in your exploits, particularly the situation surrounding your first year of school. In order to send this letter I have had to alter the wards that young Albus has placed around your house, but fear not he will be unable to detect any change in them. I have replaced them with some of my own, as a courtesy for your actions in June of 1992. The wards I have placed will prevent the detection of magic in your home – as long as you don't perform any magic under the kitchen sink. I ask that you meet me promptly at noon tomorrow on Magnolia Crescent for a trip to Diagon Alley, and a few explanations.

Yours in Trust,

Sir Nicholas Pontificus Flamel

After reading the letter, Harry's mind was racing. Needless to say, he didn't sleep very well that night.

The next morning after monotonously doing his daily chores, Harry sped back to his bedroom where he fetched his money pouch and his invisibility cloak. Half an hour later he reached Magnolia Crescent. Checking his watch, he sat down to wait for the next eight minutes until noon. Harry sat under his invisibility cloak, idly twirling his wand while looking out for Nicholas Flamel. As his watch struck twelve, Harry began to get nervous, 'What if this was a trap! Nice going Potter, you've gotten into another fine situation…moron'. Standing up, he began to turn around when he felt a tap on his shoulder,

"That is a very nice cloak Mr Potter, but I do believe it to be unnecessary," came a voice from behind him.

Harry spun around, pulling off the cloak and pointing his wand at the assailant.

"Who are you? Why are you here?" Harry growled, his wand pointing at the heart of the young man.

"Why Mr Potter this is terribly rude of you, I thought our meeting was for noon precisely!" The man said with a small grin, "Allow me to introduce myself, Sir Nicholas Pontificus Flamel – at your service."

Nearly fifteen minutes later, Harry found himself walking through the back alleyways of Little Whinging listening Nicholas's rather far-fetched explanations. As he had explained, the entire idea of the Philosophers Stone was – to be quite honest, idiotic. Speaking rather simply, Nicholas had explained that there was no Elixer of Life or way to properly transmutate any material into gold. Silently boarding the Knight Bus that had been summoned, Harry recanted the previous discussion.

"The Philosopher's Stone is, in actuality, a complicated piece of blood magic - that propels you through time. My name has been Nicholas Flamel since the early 11th century, before that I was known as Pontificus Pilot, and was born Gregory Meyhew."

"What do you mean? We have time turners to go back through time – and forward. And if you don't have the Elixer of Life how have you lived for so long?"

"All excellent questions, Mr Potter; firstly, I was born on January 12 in the year 1920. I am muggle-born, attended Durmstrang, and served as a low level Unspeakable during the Blood Wars of Grindlewald. When I was, oh… twenty-five, I was approached by a senior Unspeakable on my team. He told me I had potential that he had been looking for and told me about 'the Philosopher's Stone'. In reality it is a complicated piece of blood magic that has been known only to a handful of wizards since its creation-"

"But why are you telling me?" Harry had interrupted.

"I'll get to that in a minute, please be patient."

"Yes, Sir."

"As I was saying, oh drat! I've forgotten where we were… wait a moment, there we are! As I was saying, known to a select few, this stone sends those with the proper potential to become the most powerful wizards back through time – the distance has always fluctuated. From what I can tell I was sent back to the year 320 BCE, although some have only gone back a few centuries and others millennia. Once sent back in time, the stone shields your body from the laws of time, thus creating the appearance of immortality, while allowing your magic and mind to mature. Indeed, once you reach your initial destination most are immediately pushed to the level of Magus, it does however take quite a while to master the vast powers of the Magi. Anyways, Jumpers, as we refer to ourselves always leave in pairs; I myself brought my wife Adrianna along for the trip. A Jumper is supposed to live their lives learning all they can, until they reach the point where their, I suppose the correct term would be 'alternate' self, jumps back through time. At that point one may pick up where they left off as I did, or they may simply continue the life of secrecy they have been leading. One of the prime rules of a Jumper is secrecy. A Jumper may not reveal their nature to any but other jumpers, this is a lesson learned by myself and my wife along with one other, which forced my wife and I to create the 'idea' of the Philosophers Stone as the highest form of Alchemy. Back then, Alchemy was an inexact science along with its companion in the form of Potions, many witches and wizards preferred to rely on spellwork to achieve their desired results than a brew which they knew nothing about. The idea of the Philosophers Stone propelled Alchemy, and thus Potions into great esteem, something I believe you no doubt resent." Nicholas said the last part with a slight chuckle as Harry scowled.

"Who was the other Jumper who was discovered sir?"

"Merlin of course! Why, imagine my surprise when I went searching for him, only to find the face of an odd man I had seen once on a trip to Diagon Alley in my youth. After a little poking and prodding he admitted to being a Jumper as well and we've been great friends since."

"You mean to say… Merlin is… Alive?" Harry openly gaped.

"Oh heavens no, he was quite old you see. You no doubt remember the Chernobyl Disaster?" Nicholas waited for Harry's nod, "When one of us dies, the power released is immense, such a shame that Merlin was on one of his daily walks past that nuclear plant!"

Harry simply nodded with a pale look on his face.

"Now where were we, right-o! Now what else was I supposed to say… oh yes, now once a Jumper reaches the point of 're-integration' he begins to age again, albeit very slowly. So in fact, this past year I celebrated my 75th birthday. I have no doubt that I shall live well into the next two or three centuries. Now Harry, the reason I have told you about this, which you have no doubt deduced by now, is that I have chosen to pass the legacy of the 'Alchemist's Secrets' as I like to call it, to you."

Harry again turned pale and continued to shuffle alongside the – much – older wizard., "Why me?"

"Why not? You weren't my first choice, make no mistake of that. But you are the only person I would trust with the knowledge, that and I believe the person you would bring along with you also deserves this honour."

"Who was the first choice?" Harry asked quietly.

"Dumbledore." Came the bitter response that was spat like a hideous taste.

"What? Why not him?" Harry wondered aloud.

"Albus Dumbledore was my prized potions apprentice, he was to be one of the Supreme Potions Masters you know. A level only achieved twice in the past three hundred years. I was so eager, so willing to do anything for him. I gave his family power where there was none. I trained him in harnessing the magic that no modern wizard could reach within themselves. He was at most, a High Sorcerer, I trained him to properly harness that power the way nobody had since the fall of Rome! But it made him want more. He began to become more secretive after we discovered the uses of Dragons Blood. He would disappear for months at a time. Then he came back, he didn't speak to me as often, and when he did it was gingerly. I knew something was wrong. Then he got the job of Transfigurations Professor at Hogwarts, the other art he had gained Mastery in. Around that time there began to be rumors of a dark wizard rising, becoming powerful and promoting the importance of pureblood. Something not thought of since times before Hogwarts. Grindlewald he was called. The battles became known as the Blood Wars. A lot of the destruction was covered by the constant bombardment of England by the Germans during the Muggle war. But it was there. In 1945 I went to destroy this upstart wizard who thought himself a master of magic. When I arrived at his castle, the normally shrouded and cloaked man known as Grindlewald was caught off guard. It was Albus. My suspicions confirmed I challenged him to a duel; the conditions of my winning were that he stop the foolish attacks and return to the school. Through dark rituals he had achieved the levels of a Grand Sorcerer, you may not think the difference between High and Grand that far apart but it is significant, much more so than the difference between Magus and Grand Sorcerer. The duel lasted for nearly an hour without pass, the castle lay ruined around us. His Blood Kings lay dead around us. And I was failing. I never was much of a scholar, and his skills in transfiguration greatly outweighed mine. I used my last hope and hit him with a jet of pure magic, Chaos."

"Pure magic? What do you mean?" asked the ever inquisitive Harry.

"There are three main branches of Magic, Potter. The one you are most familiar with, Wizarding Magic, the most refined and studied – a magic that is learned of books and precise equations, a scholars magic. Natural Magic is the second where we find the most primitive of potions, herblore, and runic magics. This is magic that was most prevalent before Christianity and the need of 'order'. And the last, Chaos. Magic in its most primitive and powerful form; summoned to the user from the realm of magic itself it has very little use other than destruction. The only branches that are heard of now are Necromancy, and Channeling. I have had little experience with either of the other two branches and couldn't tell you much about them, however; I am able to use Chaos to some, if small extent. I was able to beat Albus into submission and being a man of his word, he surrendered and returned to his post as Transfigurations Professor. He claimed to have destroyed Grindlewald and gained even more fame, I suppose it was a back-up plan of some sort. He trained Tom Riddle as Grindlewald, and now is threatened by his dark apprentice. I have neither the time nor the desire to train you while watching the world fall apart. At most, I suspect you to be a Grand Warlock, if not a High Sorcerer, and there is no chance that you would beat Riddle and Dumbledore like that. So it is easy to see no other alternative than you as the next Jumper, Mr Potter," Flamel finished gazing at Harry with a forlorn look.

Harry now found himself walking through The Leaky Cauldron and towards Gringotts, still in a slight daze, he heard Nicholas tell him that the entirety of his trust fund would have to be withdrawn. Snapping out of his stupor, Harry spat out.

"What!"

"Don't worry Harry, I'll charm your money pouch to expand, its not like the money isn't yours, besides did you think gold didn't exist back then?"

Harry nodded quietly before asking, "What do you mean my 'trust fund'? I only have one vault from my parents."

Nicholas' face turned stony for a moment before he said, "Albus' work no doubt. 'Upon the seventeenth year of the heirs' life shall the keys to their blood's fortune bequeath them' An old but still widely used and recognised law for all pureblood families, as the Potters were. You should have gained full access to the Potter trust fund at age eleven, and the full Potter fortune at the age of seventeen. I'm not surprised Albus never told you about it, yet another reason for you to worship him."

Steering Harry into Gringotts, he made quick work of the Goblins who insisted that only the most privileged patrons were allowed to use portals instead of the cart system – reminding them that the Noble House of Potter was one of the oldest as was the Noble House of Flamel. Once in the vault, Flamel pulled his wand out and pointed it at Harry's money pouch murmuring quietly; it began to glow as he recited a long incantation. When it was complete, he waved his wand and the entire contents of the vault flew almost violently into the pouch sitting in Harry's outstretched hand. Once the vault had emptied, the bag looked modestly full, while weighing the same it had holding three galleons and sixteen sickles.

"How much was that?" Harry asked, awed at the feat of wizardry he had just witnessed.

"I'm not sure, wait a moment," Flamel walked the length of the vault before picking up a sheet of parchment near the back wall, "According to the register; you just withdrew roughly thirty thousand galleons. I do believe that to be quite a sufficient amount of money for any trip to the past. Only very recently has the economy become so inflated to need so much gold for so little, why even during my years at Hogwarts I spent only around two hundred fifty galleons a year for anything I might need including tuition, nowadays those costs can reach anywhere from one thousand to two thousand galleons a year. You will find in the past that the Galleon system is still in use, although much greater. There are copper coins called Krimps – fifteen Krimps to a Knut, and iron coins called Snubs – ten Snubs to a Krimp. I do believe that thirty thousand galleons would allow you to buy the wizarding world twice over and leave enough to live off of."

Not for the first time that day, Harry was led silently along by Nicholas Flamel, in a daze of surprise.

Once they had reached the Alley, Nicholas accompanied Harry to buy some things for his trip; a sturdy pair of dragon hide boots, a thick travelling cloak, along with a potions kit called So You're Going on a Trip: Potions for the Wizard on the Go, and a series of books called The Complete Hogwarts Curriculum: Deluxe Edition. It was a set of thirteen books, outlining main concepts and how to apply them for each magical subject offered at Hogwarts, the reason they weren't on the Hogwarts standard booklist was the lack of background information and the inclusion of the Dark Arts syllabus that was removed from the curriculum after the Blood Wars. Harry continued to ask questions about the journey ahead of him throughout the shopping ordeal, which Nicholas eagerly answered.

The last item on the list was a bag to keep it all in; the bag was quite similar in size and appearance to the money pouch that already hung from Harry's belt although it was made of some type of fabric, rather than leather. It had the same expansion and lightweight charms on it that had been applied to said money pouch, although not on such a grand scale, and included multiple anti-theft charms as well. It was already holding all the items bought today along with doubles for his companion. Harry, now out of the daze he had been walking in noticed they were standing next to Madam Malkins, more specifically in front of the entrance to Knockturn Alley.

"Mr Potter, I'm afraid this is where we break paths, this book will outline the process of creating your stone and lists the ingredients needed to perform the ritual. The process must have magic from all those Jumping with you to correctly propel you through time. Good Luck." Flamel said, handing Harry a thin red book.

"Thank you."

"Give me your wand," Harry did so and watched as the Alchemist tapped his wand against his, making the handle glow slightly before handing it back, "I've disabled the tracking and identification charms, the Ministry will know someone underage is using magic, but not who or where. I also believe you'll find most for the items you're looking for in Knockturn Alley. Until our next meeting" With a nod of his head, he disappeared soundlessly.

Harry found himself walking through the dark alleyway, wand in one hand, the other holding the travelling cloak he had put on closed. He was almost positive someone was following him, he had no time to look for an apothecary and was quickly making his way to the only shop he knew of, Borgin and Burkes. Harry stepped into the dark shop, it looked exactly as it had the summer before his second year, although it now contained a few new items. Harry stood beside the door and watched as a cloaked figure looked around before disapparating. Breathing a little more slowly, Harry moved towards the front of the shop, he opened the book to the ingredients and tools page. Pointing his wand at it he muttered Duplicus, and snatched the identical piece of parchment out of the air before safely returning the book to the bag.

"May I help you Sir?" came the oily voice of Borgin.

Harry turned to face the man who shrunk back at the wand in his hand. He held out the sheet and said,

"I require these items. If you do not stock any of them inform me where I may find them today, and be discreet about it or I may lose my temper Mr Borgin."

"Nothing less for my – wealthy - customers, if you understand Sir?"

"Do I look like a fool, Borgin? Quickly and you'll get your gold."

With a yellow and rotten smile, Borgin disappeared behind the counter. Harry walked towards a large bookshelf and began examining the titles, none of them looked very interesting – all being tattered copies of books available elsewhere. One book did however catch his eye. It was a good size, maybe a little bigger than standard textbooks and was bound in green cloth. The title was written in an odd style of calligraphy, each of the characters seeming to flow into the next - Secrets of the Snakespeaker was the title. Harry picked it up thinking it useful and brought it to the counter where Borgin was waiting.

"Well?" Harry asked his voice low and menacing.

"I have everything except for the athame, chalk, and soakstone. We don't generally carry materials for those sorts of activities," Borgin placed various bottles and bags on the counter, "The rest of your items are here, I'd say it should be around two hundred galleons for the lot."

"Mr Borgin you are trying my patience, I will pay you two hundred for the items and this book along with an additional twenty for your silence and directions to the location of the other items." Harry said with finalty, putting his selection on the counter.

"Fifty,"

"Twenty-Five,"

"Fourty-Five,"

"Thirty, or I'm leaving,"

"Done. I should also tell you that book doesn't respond to standard translation charms. It's titled, The Mute Serpent and is nothing more than a fantasy novel. I had to use a rather dark charm to do it and it was patchy at that."

"Nonetheless, two hundred and thirty-five for the lot." Harry said counting out the coins, all the while realising why he was able to read the flowing script of the book.

"Once you leave the shop, turn left and look for the sign that says 'Arduous Spells and Ceremonies'. Your tools will be there." Borgin said after counting the money himself. Harry nodded and left the store after packing up his purchases.

Once Harry left the dank shop he turned, wand still in hand, and made his way towards the sign described to him. Almost the moment he stepped into the street, he heard the slight pop that was associated with apparition, and then the slight whoosh of air and crackle of power that accompanied a spell being fired. Ducking behind a street display of suspiciously human looking organs, Harry peeked a look at his attacker. Whoever it was appeared to be a Death Eater, if only identified by the dark robes and white mask. Closing his eyes and praying that Nicholas Flamel was truthful about the 'powers nobody had used since the fall of Rome', he tried to access the supposed vast energy gifted to a High Sorcerer.

After a minute of hearing spells being fired towards him and searching within himself, Harry felt a strangely calm sensation come over him. He felt the peaceful sensation and odd tingle in his toes that accompanied casting a Patronus Charm. Smiling, Harry opened his eyes to see overturned carts and burning rubble around him, the small crowd had also disappeared. Standing up, he faced the Death Eater who had gained a companion.

"The Dark Lord will kill you Potter! Surrender and he may do it quickly."

"I'm curious, are you new at this? I put the entirety of Voldemort's inner circle to Azkaban with only my school friends as backup. What makes you think two new recruits can take me out?"

"HOW DARE YOU!" screamed the second Death Eater, immediately throwing a Cruciatus Curse towards Harry.

With a flick of his wand, a loose piece of cobblestone zoomed into the spells path where it exploded into a cloud of dust. The Death Eaters took this as a cue and both began throwing curses towards the stationary Harry. As the first two curses whistled towards him, Harry flicked his wand upwards creating a shimmering shield before firing two stunners towards the attacking Wizards. He used no incantations; the magic that was humming through his body reacted solely to his mind. The enemy curses splashed on the shield before it dissipated. The stunners were likewise dodged and succeeded in destroying more of the brickwork on the side of one building. While dodging another Cruciatus and a couple Bone Breaking Curses, Harry decided to take a page out of Dumbledore's book. Pointing his wand at the bricks and rubble closest to the Death Eaters, he transfigured them into rather stony looking dogs and animated them to attack the Death Eaters. While they dealt with the new threat, Harry took a second to plan his next spells.

After letting three stunners miss the Death Eaters, Harry decided to take a more direct approach and began banishing the stones around him towards the Death Eaters heads. After being pelted with a few stones, they began to pick up the pace. Curses began to hail down on Harry, tripping over a loose stone; he was hit in the leg with a particularly painful Tearing Hex, creating a three inch gash across his left leg. Falling down, Harry grasped the bleeding appendage with his free hand. He cast a shield in front of himself as a Bone Breaking Curse hit his prone left foot, successfully crushing his toes and ankle. Wincing in agony, Harry pulled himself to his feet as the Death Eaters laughed.

"Looks like you aren't as skilled as you thought eh Potter?" the first one laughed as they approached him.

Harry felt a blush rising on his cheeks before spitting towards the Death Eaters,

"I'm not finished yet, you inbred SQUIB!"

The enemy wizards growled in anger, almost immediately they charged towards him. Harry again pointed his wand which was thrumming with excitement at the Death Eaters,

"I just…wanted…to go…shopping!" he gritted through his teeth, "Stupefy abeo Caliga!" Harry screamed, his anger finally catching up with him.

A scarlet mist flew from his wand towards the wizards, engulfing them in a thick cloud. With another flick of his wand the mist disappeared to reveal the two Death Eaters lying unconscious on the ground, blood dripping from the mask of one. With two more snarled "Incarcerous!" the two wizards were tightly bound in chains. Harry fell to the ground, and pointed his wand towards the gash in his leg, casting a basic healing charm he had read about earlier in the summer, and pointing his wand towards his foot and muttering "Fascia". Sturdy bandages wrapped his foot and ankle causing him to see stars in pain before he also cast a Pain Numbing Charm. He stood up to leave before the Aurors arrived, late as usual, muttering,

"Next time, wear the bloody boots Potter."

After fifteen minutes of wandering down Knockturn Alley, Harry found the relatively small shop he was looking for. The windows were blackened and the door appeared to be locked. He knocked on the door before standing back, the grip on his wand tightening. The door swung open slowly, Harry stepped inside slowly. A quiet voice beside him asked,

"What do you need, young one?" the door closed suddenly, making Harry suppress a jump.

"Chalk, made from the shell of a Firecrab, an Athame cooled in the blood of a Welsh Green, and a size two marble soakstone."

"Ah, the directness of youth; please wait here, the price is thirty Galleons," said the deathly old looking witch from behind a counter.

The entire shop was surrounded in darkness, the only source of light was over the counter; Harry stepped towards it and placed thirty galleons on it. When the witch returned, she smiled at Harry and placed the coins into the register, her thin wrinkled skin stretching across her bony face. As Harry reached towards the brown package, the witch grasped his wrist in her bony hand.

"I know not of anything utilising these items together, I sincerely hope you understand the consequences of experimenting in this field young man?"

"It isn't an experiment. And I do, thank you for your concern," Harry replied placing the package in his bag. He left the store as quickly as possible and retraced his steps towards Diagon Alley.

When Harry arrived off the Knight Bus on Privet Drive, it was late – nearly 7:30. As the bus disappeared loudly Harry felt an unmistakeable hand slap him across the back of the head.

"Potter! Where have you been? It's only your luck that Fletcher was on duty before me keeping Albus immune to your disappearance! Why can't he detect the missing wards? And wh-"

"Professor, I can't explain right now. I need you to go and bring whatever you'll need for a long journey away from the civilized world possibly. Come back and meet me in my bedroom I'll explain there. Quickly, I don't know how long it'll take for Dumbledore to realise the wards have been moved!"

The Professor nodded confusedly before disapparating. Harry entered Number Four through the back door and tiptoed upstairs into his bedroom. Once there, Hedwig fluttered over to him and gave him a hard nip on the ear,

"I know, I know I should have told someone. It's alright now. I need to start packing."

Hedwig hooted her disapproval and returned to her cage as Harry pulled his trunk out from under his bed. The items that were deemed worthy to go along with him were his entire collection of text and reference books, invisibility cloak, dress robes, and his broom which had been given back to him only a week ago. All were placed in the expanding pouch; which Harry had divested of the ritual ingredients and the items for the Professor. The other pouch was placed on the bed while Harry's was hung from his belt beside the money bag.

A few waves of his wand later left the floor spotless and barren. Another wave and the chalk began tracing a ritual circle – a hexagon inside a triangle, surrounded by two circles. Once it was complete, Harry placed all of the various stones, herbs, and liquids inside the hexagon surrounding a shallow bowl made of red clay, glazed black. Following the instructions of the ritual, he began tracing runes and other symbols between the two circles. It took him nearly half an hour to finish and by the time he was done, the Professor was standing in the doorway watching him.

"Are you packed? There's an expandable pouch on the bed along with a pair of boots and a travelling cloak for you."

"What are you doing? Don't you know rituals are dangerous? This could have serious repercussions and not just legally!"

"It's all right; if this is done correctly nobody will even notice."

"What are you talking about?"

Sighing, Harry handed the small red book to the Professor telling him he had received it from Nicholas Flamel; much to the Professor's surprise. Harry sat still and waited patiently as the Professor read through the short manual, his eyes growing larger as he read all that was explained to Harry personally by the Alchemist. Once he had finished, he silently pulled a shrunken trunk from his pocket and placed it in the pouch along with the cloak and boots that were layed out for him.

"I would highly doubt the validity of these claims, if not for the unmistakable handwriting of Mr Flamel. The possible advantages of this are mind boggling. Shall we begin then?"

"The advantages are great. You know the procedure?"

"Yes."

"Good, after reading that I had a thought. Do you think Hedwig would be able to come with us?" Harry said quietly.

"Your Owl? I hardly think the risk is worth taking!" spat the Professor.

Indignantly, Hedwig flew to Snape's shoulder and bit his ear hard before moving to Harry's.

"I don't think she agrees, Sir."

"That's incredible," came the slightly awed voice of the Professor, "I've never seen such an intelligent Owl, yes they almost never fail to deliver a letter, but to understand us? It's unheard of."

"Hedwig has always been, intuitive. So do you think it would work?" Harry said as Hedwig ruffled her feathers importantly.

"It might, if she was able to project her own magic into the ritual, along with some blood." Came the thoughtful reply.

"Let's start then."

The two began to trace more symbols and runes as Hedwig watched on from her cage. Once they were complete, they began to chant and the ritual circle began to glow a bright red. Hedwig joined them on Harry's shoulder and began to hoot in time with the incantation. They finished the incantation as the clay bowl too began to glow. They added the various ingredients to it before each adding three drops of blood. When the last drop hit the surface of the bowl it began to bubble and steam began to rise from it. At once the two humans began to speak, while the owl hooted softly adding her own animal magic to the mix.

"Ancients of Power, I call to thee,

Gods of Magic, answer my plea,

Through blood I ask, as magic's child,

The secrets of Time, revealed to me,

Divergent paths, my life becomes,

Until this day, when two become one."

The circle began to glow as a wind picked up around them; the room darkened leaving the circle bright as the sun. The magic became palpable in the air as the three travellers felt their own magic fuel the ritual and grow to compensate for the time distortion. The potions in the centre of the circle bubbled and condensed until all that was left was a single, glowing red stone. Almost at once they hit the ground, as if they had been floating on air. The circle stopped glowing and the room around them lit up – only it wasn't a room. They were standing in the middle of a grass filled plain, the circle burned into the ground. Not a sound was heard except for the heavy breathing of the three, until one spoke,

"It worked."

They then promptly slipped out of consciousness as their magic began to rebuild itself.

Author's Note: This was a random idea that caught me and I was excited lol. I've tried too keep it to a high standard so please if you find something a little stupid just point it out. I don't think theres really anything else to explain so i should probably go work on New Beginnings... TTFN