Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the property of J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Publishing, Scholastic Corporation, and Warner Brothers.

It was the last night at Hogwarts before the winter holidays and everyone was enjoying the final feast. The house-elves had out done themselves with a phenomenal meal. From Fig Pudding to Fruitcake, every dish desirable was sitting on a golden platter, waiting for someone to take a bite.

The evening was going extraordinarily well. That was, of course, until the doors to the Great Hall were flung open and Dolores Umbridge walked down the center aisle towards the head table where every professor of the school sat. As she did so, the hall fell into silence. To make matters even worse, a trail of high-ranking ministry officials followed in behind her. The Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge; the head of the Auror Department, Rufus Scrimgeour; the head of the Department of Mysteries, Unspeakable Number One; and lastly, the deputy head of the Department of Mysteries, Unspeakable Number Two.

Albus Dumbledore stood from his chair at the head table to greet the arrivals, but before he could begin an introduction, Cornelius Fudge began to speak.

"Ah, you're all here. Good. Wonderful. That means we can begin immediately," he blustered.

"Begging your pardon, Minister, but what is it that we will be beginning?" the Headmaster asked genially.

"We have come to put an end to this You-Know-Who business you and Potter are riling up," Fudge answered and then turned toward the two representatives from the Department of Mysteries.

Dumbledore grew weary. His eyes stopped twinkling and began to glint like steel.

"And how do you intend to do that?" he asked.

The minister gave no answer; he merely took a step back and turned completely toward the rest of the ministry officials.

Unspeakable Number One stepped forward. He was a tall man with short black hair and dull brown eyes. In his gloved hands, he carried two shimmering opal stones that radiated heat and red light.

"Our experimental magics division has developed a new device while experimenting with time sand and dragonflame. When dragonflame hits the sand, the sand crystallizes into these stones," the man stated matter-of-factly as every eye in the room turned to the black crystals.

Unspeakable Number Two jumped in, "That is not to say they are in any way easy to create. The amount of rune creation and arithmancy required was nearly impossible to surmount. It took our best wizards years to complete. You can not simply hit time sand with drangonflame and expect to have these stones. It is risky business, experimenting with time sand and I would not recommend it to anyone."

Unspeakable Number One continued speaking as though he had never been interrupted at all, "After some experiments, we discovered that they can be used to summon people from the future. Temporarily, of course. The longest we have managed to keep someone is thirteen minutes."

Umbridge cleared her throat and, with a gleeful smile on her face, declared, "We will be using these wonderful creations to summon two people from the future to clear up this business once and for all."

Dumbledore stared in astonishment.

"Surely you understand what you are about to do. You must know the implications of interrupting the time stream. The danger it poses to the natural order of things. You have to know how delicate a thing time is. You can not seriously intend to do this," the headmaster said incredulously.

"Nonsense," Fudge declared, "This is all perfectly safe. You just don't wish to be made a fool of. But I assure you, Dumbledore, your lies will be revealed. The truth will out."

Fudge grinned triumphantly.

"Cornelius, I assure you, my looking a fool has nothing to do with my desire to stop you from using these crystals. It is my desire to live. Messing with the timestream is incredibly dangerous," Dumbledore stated fiercely.

Scrimgeour stepped forward, "I say if summoning someone from the future might clear up this Dark Lord rumor for good, it is worth the risk. For the greater good, you understand."

Dumbledore paused before answering, "Auror Scrimgeour, you would be hard pressed to find a more dedicated advocate for the greater good than myself. But you cannot be so blind as to not see the great imbalance of risk and reward here. There is a chance to settle the rumors, yes, but there is also a chance to obliterate the world as we know it."

Unspeakable Number Two stepped forward warily. The man hesitated. He looked at the minister and then to the headmaster. From the headmaster, he drew courage and spoke, "I... I agree with Professor Dumbledore. These gems are extremely powerful magical artifacts. They are not to be trifled with. They are very dangerous in more ways than one. I don't think we should be doing this."

"There is nothing to discuss," the Minister screeched angrily, "We will be using these Summoning Stones. It has already been decided. In fact, we will be doing it right here. In the Great Hall."

Dumbledore blinked. The temperature in the hall dropped several degrees and the air grew thick with magic. Dumbledore's unrestrained magic created a tension in the air and it seemed to crackle around the headmaster as he fought to regain control.

"I'm sorry, Cornelius. I believe I must have misheard you," Dumbledore stated quietly through a clenched jaw.

The Minister for Magic looked much less sure of himself, but carried on, "I said we will be using the Summoning Stones here. Hogwarts has the strongest wards and the most ambient magic anywhere in Britain. The more magic channeled into the stone, the longer the people summoned can stay."

"You intend to perform dangerous experimental time magic in the middle of my school?" Dumbledore asked half in disbelief, half in anger.

"Yes. I've got an Educational Decree here fresh from the Wizenagamot that permits magical schools to be used for studying and experimenting with new forms of magic. After all, what better place is there to discover new things about magic than in a school?" Fudge posed.

"Well, I should think the answer to that quite obvious, Cornelius. Anywhere would be a better place to test dangerous magic than a school, which houses the future the wizarding world," Dumbledore stated angrily.

"Albus, there is nothing left to discuss. It has been decided and there is nothing you can do. We will be summoning a future Minister for Magic and a future Head Auror," the minister stated.

"And, pray, tell, how do you intend to do that?" Professor McGonagall inserted gingerly from Dumbledore's right.

"Quite easily, I assure you," Unspeakable Number One sneered from the minister's side.

"Yes, yes. Let's get on with it then," said Fudge as he held out his hand for one of the stones.

The Head Unspeakable handed one stone to the Minister for Magic and handed the other stone to Auror Scrimgeour.

"The feeling may be uncomfortable, but not painful. Part of the magic used to summon each of the two will be taken from the magic of your positions as Minister and Head Auror. That is how magic will know who to call back. It will know to bring a Minister for Magic and a Head Auror. It will also draw magic from the school and the Ley Lines that the school sits upon. This magic will help the stones summon people from further into the future. I estimate that our guests will be summoned from somewhere between twenty to fifty years into the future," the Unspeakable informed the denizens of the Great Hall.

The students in the hall were absolutely frightened. And their professors knew it, but there was nothing to be done. They could not fight the ministry. If they tried, they would certainly be arrested by Fudge's sycophants and then the magic would be performed anyway without any one to protect the children. The only choice was to allow the ministry to perform the spell.

"You are a fool, Fudge, if you think this won't backfire horribly on you," Professor Snape observed from his place at the Headmaster's left.

The Minister and the Unspeakable ignored the Potions Master's comment and Unspeakable Number One pulled out his wand.

With a single deep breath and a complex whirl of his wand, he said, "Futurum Revocari!"

The Summoning Stones darkened and lost their radience. Their light began to flicker and the black of the stones began to dull. And then, seemingly without cause, the magic began to flow into the stones. From the Ley Lines and the castle, from the Minister and the Head Auror and the Head Unspeakable, the magic was funneled.

The magic built and grew and flared and sparked and then, with a climactic flash of red light, two men appeared in the hall. One was an older, bald, black man dressed in fine dress robes. He was a tall man with an eye patch over his left eye and a scar along his cheek. The second man was tall too, though not as tall as the first man. The man was well into his forties and was quite fit and his face was hidden by a hood on his long cloak. His clothes were exquisitely tailored and made of the finest material. The shirt was made of acromantula silk; the vest, from Nightfury hide; and the long cloak, from Basilisk skin. He radiated power and prowess.

There was silence for a moment and then all hell broke loose. Both men jumped off of the ground, wands out faster than any one in the hall had time to comprehend or react, and the two men began casting spells around the room. The students screamed in shock and terror as their teachers were stunned and petrified. Red bolts. Orange flames. Pink flashes. Spells sprang from the wands of the time travelers at an astounding speed.

The professors were the first to respond. Professors Snape and McGonagall both drew their wands and began returning fire while the Headmaster casted protective wards over the students so that spells could not hit the student tables; the wards were physical, transparent barriers that kept spells from going in, but they also kept the students from getting out.

Every ministry employee and several professors had been petrified and bound by the two time travellers before one of the time travellers was taken down by a spell from Severus Snape.

As the black man fell to the ground, the younger time traveller yelled, "Royal!"

He then turned to Snape in a fury. With a slash of his wand, the remaining time traveller hit Snape with an incantationless spell and the professor fell to the ground.

There were three professors left standing. Professor Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Flitwick. Dumbledore was distracted with warding, and the hooded time traveller used the advantage. With a silent spell, the headmaster's wand flew from his hand and then the headmaster fell back like a plank of wood. Then, the man turned to the remaining two professors and a duel broke out.

It was a most impressive duel. McGonagall and Flitwick used powerful, advanced charms and transfigurations and the man fought back with finesse. He used no advanced spell work or impressive wand twirling. But his spells flew fast, hard, and with immense power and his agility kept him a step ahead of the professors. Within the minute, the powerful time traveller was the last man standing.

He glanced out across the hall and saw the terrified faces of the trapped students, but saw no potential threats still standing. He paused for a moment and then walked to his fellow time traveller, with his hood still up, and revived the man with a quick spell. He held out an arm and pulled the man from the ground.

"You okay, Royal?" the younger man asked.

"Yeah, I guess I'll live. I'm getting a bit too old for this nonsense, though," the older man returned.

The two men stood together on the platform. They glanced around the room, cataloging their surroundings. Nineteen incapacitated adults. Approximately one hundred and fifty children. Most powerful wizard in the room is disguised as Dumbledore, likely the leader. Risk potential: High. Possible suspects: Gerard Avery, Mortimer Nott, and Everard D'Arcy. Escape routes: one at twelve, one at five, one at seven. New allies, unlikely. Backup, unlikely. Assistance, Royal. Likelihood of success, low. Likelihood of survival, low. Situation: SNAFU, the future Head Auror thought instinctively.

The future Minister was making a similar assessment of the situation. The two men shared a glance. The younger man aimed a nod towards the headmaster as he glanced at the future Minister for Magic with a meaningful look.

"You ready for this?" the hooded man posed.

The other man nodded. The older man banished the head table and began collecting the stunned and petrified witches and wizards. The younger traveller collected the wands of the disarmed professors and ministry workers. Together, they transfigured extra chairs and placed a sticking charm on each chair. They then put a person in each one and bound each witch and wizard for good measure. The petrified witches and wizards grew furious at the treatment. Their eyes narrowed in fury, but they could not move because of the spells that had been casted on them.

The time travellers only kept one man from a chair: The headmaster. The younger man placed a sticking charm on the ground in the center of the platform where the head table had once been. The older man then forcefully grabbed the petrified headmaster and forced him to kneel upon the ground where the sticking charm lay. The professor's wrists were then aggressively bound behind his back by the younger man.

"Would you like the honor?" the older time traveller asked the younger.

"No. I don't have much self control at the moment," the younger replied with a pose that displayed his unveiled displeasure at the situation.

The old, black man nodded in understanding and turned towards the petrified headmaster. With a wave of his wand, Royal lifted the spell and the headmaster was able to move, though he was still bound and stuck to the ground.

Royal raised his wand to the headmaster and asked in a threatening voice, "Who the bloody hell are you?!"

Dumbledore turned to the man and said, "Albus Dumbledore."

The time traveller stared at him for a moment.

"Do you think I'm joking? Because this really isn't the time for it," Royal said menacingly.

"No, I do not find this funny in anyway, my good man. My name is Albus Dumbledore," the professor replied.

"Albus Dumbledore is dead. He died a long time ago, so I'm going to ask you again. Who are you?" Royal said in a furious calm.

Dumbledore looked the man in the eyes, "My name is Albus Dumbledore."

The future Minister for Magic stared at the man for an eternity of a moment, before standing up and saying, "Very well, then."

The man pulled off his outer cloak and laid it on the ground. He then rolled up the sleeves of his fine shirt up to his elbow. With one hand, he reached up to his neck and loosened his tie before unbuttoning the top two button of the shirt. The man looked ready for a fight.

"Now, I don't know what you and your friends hope to accomplish dressed up as a bunch of dead people, and, quite frankly, I don't give a damn what it is. But what you have accomplished is making me and my friend here very angry. And I can assure you, Dumbledore, that you will regret it," Royal darkly assured the professor.

"I am not trying to insult you, my dear man. I really am Albus Dumbledore. If you would give me a minute to explain, I'm certain we could sort out this misunderstanding," Dumbledore pleaded.

"There's nothing to explain! You think anyone in their right mind is going to believe any story you come up with? There is no way to explain such a disgrace," Royal continued.

While Royal had been interrogating the headmaster, the other time traveller had taken off his cloak and laid it on the steps. He had rolled up the sleeves of his silk shirt to reveal his scarred forearms and pulled his long brown hair back from his face. He had bright blue eyes and a stoic expression.

He walked along the platform that the head table had sat upon, examining all of the captives bound to chairs. He stopped in front of each witch and wizard and gave them a considering glare then placed their captured wands on the ground in front of them. When he stopped before the Potions Master, he took a knife from his back pocket and sliced the man's sleeve, revealing the Dark Mark engraved in the professor's arm. The time traveller looked at the Potions Master with an unreadable expression. He then cast a summoning charm on the man and a spare wand and two daggers came from Professor Snape's robes. The time traveller examined the weapons and then placed them on the ground in front of the man along with his wand.

He continued on along the row of bounded witches and wizards, stopping to do the same as he had to the Potions Master to the Transfiguration Mistress and the Head Auror. Both McGonagall and Scrimgeour lost a spare wand and a concealed knife. Their confiscated weapons were placed in front of their chairs just as Snape's had been.

The man then walked back over to Snape and stared seriously at the Dark Mark on his forearm, muttering to himself. The Dark Mark cannot be replicated by any magical means, so it must be real. This man is a Death Eater. But how can it be?! I captured all of the surviving Death Eaters. And the Mark can't be this visible unless Voldemort is around. But he's dead. How can this be? There must be an explanation, he thought.

The man then turned and looked out across the hall, his gaze thoughtful and considering. After a moment, he walked over to Royal. He tapped the man on the shoulder and gave him a meaningful look. Royal stood up straight and, with a pat on the man's left shoulder, left his fellow time traveller's side.

The time traveller unbound the headmaster's hands and then sat down on the ground next to the kneeling professor.

He then held out his hand to the headmaster and said, "Nice to meet you. You can call me Hyphen."

The headmaster gave a strange look to the man, but accepted the offered hand and said, "A pleasure to meet you, Hyphen. Albus Dumbledore."

"Albus Dumbledore...," Hyphen said with consideration, weighing the name in his mouth.

The two sat in silence for a moment before Hyphen began to speak.

"Got a middle name, professor?" he asked.

"Three, actually. Percival Wulfric Brian," the headmaster replied.

"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore," the time traveller repeated.

The professor nodded as the time traveller reached into his pant pocket and pulled out a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. He poured a few into his hand and ate them one by one.

He looked over to the headmaster and held out the box.

"Would you like some?" he offered.

"No, thank you, my dear man. I was most unfortunate in my youth to come across a vomit flavored one. Many years later, when I gathered the courage to try another, I came up with earwax. I'm afraid they are not to my taste," Dumbledore said sadly.

"Hmm," Hyphen said while nodding, "Do you have a favorite candy, Mr. Dumbledore?"

"I'm particularly fond of Lemon Drops, though I consider myself something of a candy connoisseur so I enjoy a variety of sweets, both magical and muggle," he replied.

"I prefer Chocolate Frogs, myself," the time traveller inserted, "Though it may be for sentimental reasons, rather than taste. They were the first magical candies I ever ate, so nothing will ever be able to beat them."

Dumbledore gave a small smile at the statement, "I consider my Chocolate Frog Card to be my greatest recognition."

"I would imagine so," The younger man agreed ambiguously.

Out of the blue, the time traveller asked, "What is your favorite flavor of jam?"

"Well, that would have to be raspberry," Dumbledore answered with a perplexed look.

"And your ideal Christmas gift?" Hyphen quickly returned.

"A pair of nice warm socks. People always seem to want to give me books, but nothing beats a pair of woolen socks," Dumbledore replied.

Hyphen nodded absentmindedly. He then reached into his pocket and pulled out the headmaster's wand. He examined the headmaster's wand and rolled and tossed it in his hand.

"This is a pretty powerful wand you have here, professor," Hyphen observed.

"Yes, it is," Dumbledore said wearily.

"Where'd you get it? I didn't think Ollivander made wands like this," Hyphen said.

"He doesn't. I won it. In a duel," Dumbledore answered cautiously.

"With Grindelwald," Hyphen added. It was not a question. Rather, it was a statement.

"Yes," was the headmaster's reply.

"And do you know where he got it from?" Hyphen asked innocuously.

The professor shook his head.

"I do," Hyphen stated.

The professor gave the time traveller a strange look.

"He stole it from a man named Gregorovitch," he told the professor.

Hyphen turned to look at the headmaster.

"You don't see many wands like this. Elder wands, I mean," Hyphen observed.

"Yes, there is a bit of a superstition surrounding them," Dumbledore conceded.

"'Wand of Elder, never prosper,'" Hyphen recited.

Dumbledore nodded.

"Do you know where that superstition came from?" Hyphen asked.

Dumbledore gave no response, but the time traveller answered anyway.

"It was a children's tale. I'm sure you've heard of it. The Tale of the Three Brothers," Hyphen said innocently.

Dumbledore froze.

"'There were once three brothers who were traveling along a lonely, winding road at twilight,'" Hyphen began.

"I know the story, " the headmaster said shortly.

"I know you do, professor. You know the tale better than most," he said while looking the headmaster in the eyes.

Everyone else in the room, save Royal, stared at the duo in confusion. The riddles the men were speaking in were undecipherable.

"Yes," the professor whispered, "I do."

"Do you ever regret what happened that night in Godric's Hollow?" Hyphen asked.

"Everyday," Dumbledore assured the man.

"Do you ever wonder what it would be like if Ariana had not died?" he asked.

Dumbledore nodded.

"Have you ever thought about what the world would be like if you had never befriended that man?" Hyphen posed.

The headmaster shut his eyes.

"Yes," he answered in a small voice.

"I used to do that. Worry about things that were out of my control, things that can't be changed," Hyphen said.

The two men sat in an uncomfortable silence, both remembering their mistakes. Hyphen then turned to the headmaster and spoke.

"I know that you are the real Dumbledore. But I'm not entirely sure of how. You are dead. I know you are," Hyphen said, as if trying to convince himself.

"You keep saying I died. I consider myself to be very much alive, my good man. How is it that you think I died?" the headmaster asked.

"I don't think you died. I know you died," Hyphen said before continuing, "I was there. I watched it. Just a flash of green light and you fell over the edge of the astronomy tower."

"I die here? At Hogwarts?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yes. Back in '97. The war had just started. It was quite a blow for the light, let me assure you. I would have thought you'd have known how you died if you are claiming to be alive again, professor," Hyphen returned.

"I'm not claiming to have come back from the dead. I'm claiming to have never died in the first place. Because the year 1997 has not yet come to pass," Dumbledore said.

"Time travel. I should have known," Hyphen huffed in frustration, "Honestly, time travel? Oh, dear Merlin! I'd imagine it was Fudge that thought it would be a bright idea to summon people from the future? It seems like something foolish enough to have come from him."

There was no response to a statement like that so Dumbledore merely nodded. Hyphen took in several calming breaths before continuing.

"Is it permanent, or will we be able to get back?" Hyphen asked.

"They said it would be temporary, so you should be getting back soon," Dumbledore assured the man.

"You know, that man looks quite familiar," Dumbledore observed to Hyphen.

"You mean Royal?" Hyphen asked.

Dumbledore nodded.

"Well, you were close allies and good friends back in the War before you were killed, so I would hope that you know him," Hyphen stated.

"Who is he?" Dumbledore asked.

Hyphen turned towards Royal and raised an eyebrow. Royal only shrugged in response. Hyphen stood up and waved the man over.

Royal withdrew his wand and removed the sticking charm from the ground. He and his fellow time traveller each offered a hand to the man and helped him up. Every eye in the hall was glued to the three men.

"It's been a long time, Albus. I never thought I'd be seeing you again, but I can't say I'm not glad to see you. Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt, at your service," Royal said.

Albus gave a great smile to the man and said, "Minister Shacklebolt. Congratulations, my good man. I'm pleased to see it. I can't imagine a better man for the job."

"Neither can anyone else," Hyphen added, "He's the longest-serving Minister for Magic in British History."

"I should have known it was you," Dumbledore added, "With a codename like 'Royal', how on Earth could I have missed it?"

"You'll feel even worse when you realize who this one is," Shacklebolt added as he landed a hand on the shoulder of his time travelling companion.

Every eye fell on Hyphen.

"Not yet, Kingsley. Let's wait a bit longer to take on that dragon. I don't think I'm ready for that quite yet," Hyphen said with a wry grin.

"And you'd know all about taking on dragons, wouldn't you?" Kingsley said with a sly smile.

"Oh, do shut up, Kingsley," Hyphen returned playfully with a roll of his eyes.

"Would you mind releasing my professors? I'm certain they do not, in fact, appreciate being stuck to their chairs," Dumbledore inserted.

The two time travellers conferred silently, after which, each man gave the other a short nod. One by one they began to free the professors, though the four ministry workers remained spelled and bounded.

Professors McGonagall and Snape were the first to move from their chairs. Each grabbed their pile of weapons and rearmed themself. The two professors exchanged glances and then together, they walked toward the group of wizards.

As the two professors approached, Dumbledore turned to them and spoke, "Ah, professors, I'm afraid things seem to have gotten started on the wrong foot. Minerva, Severus this is Minister Shacklebolt and this is Head Auror Hyphen."

Both professors gave the time travellers calculating glances before the minister's name registered. McGonagall turned towards Kingsley and gave him a considering look.

Hyphen interrupted the tense stare-down with an out stretched arm.

"Hello, professors. It's nice to see you," he said.

Snape gave a withering look and a sneer, while McGonagall cautiously took the offered hand and said, "How do you do?"

Hyphen nodded with a bemused smile on his face.

Kingsley then stuck out his hand in ofference to the Transfiguration Mistress and with a smile he said, "Hello, Minerva."

"Hello, Kingsley. Or rather Minister Shacklebolt," she said, still feeling the entire situation was surreal.

"Just 'Kingsley' is fine, Headmistress," Kingsley replied with a respectful nod to both professors after which Hyphen sharply elbowed him in the ribs.

"Headmistress?!" McGonagall exclaimed.

"Well done, Kingsley," Hyphen stated caustically with a slight, disbelieving shake of his head.

"Yes, sorry. I probably shouldn't have said that," Kingsley stated.

"No, really?" Hyphen returned, "What makes you say that? You're a politician! Aren't you supposed to be a smooth talker, good with words and what not?"

Shacklebolt just shrugged in response.

"Well, isn't this wonderful?!" Dumbledore added in excitement.

Kingsley turned to McGonagall and said, "Yes. My apologies, professor. I've become accustomed to calling you 'Headmistress'. In our time, you've held the position for many years."

"No need to apologize, Kingsley. I should have known it since you've already said that Albus is dead in your time. It was just a bit surprising. If anything, we should be apologizing to you and your friend. We're the ones that have essentially kidnapped you," McGonagall said in response.

"Well, we needed a little more excitement. Things were becoming far too calm. A bit boring for my tastes. And I've come to expect these sorts of adventures when Ha- Hyphen is around," Kingsley replied good-naturedly.

With an ironic grin, Hyphen said, "I have no idea what you're talking about, Kingsley. I've lived a perfectly normal life. Never had the tiniest bit of trouble."

Kingsley only laughed in reply.

"So, what was it that you kidnapped us for? I'm sure Fudge had some reason for it?" Hyphen asked in a more serious tone, changing the topic.

Professor Snape answered with a biting tone, "Yes. Fudge summoned you to prove a point. He wished you to verify that the Dark Lord has not in fact returned. Though, the point he proved was quite different from the one he intended."

"And what was it he proved, professor?" Hyphen asked.

With a sneer, Snape replied, "I should have thought it obvious. He proved that the Ministry is manned by a group of inept baboons and that the Dark Lord has indeed returned."

"You always did have a way with words," Hyphen said with a slight grin.

"We know each other, then?" Snape asked.

"Oh, yes. Very well, professor. I knew you better than almost anyone. I think only Dumbledore knew you better than I did. And maybe not even him," Hyphen retorted.

"Hmm. So I'm dead then. Your use of past-tense is quite a damnation," Snape observed.

"I'd forgotten how quick you were. Always picking up on the small things," Hyphen said.

Snape gave no reply.

The rest of the Hogwarts staff kept a considerable distance from the group, though they stayed close enough to intervene should it become necessary. Every so often, one of the staff members would glance back to the ministry workers still tied to their chairs.

With another change of topic, Hyphen said, "You think we should let up the ministry workers?"

The three professors and the future minister all turned to look at the group of four officials in consideration.

Shacklebolt shrugged and released the three wizards and the witch from their binds. All of them quickly scrambled to collect their wands and Scrimgeour put his blade back in his sleeve.

Angrily, Minister Fudge stormed over to the group.

"How dare you?! I am the Minister for Magic! I will not be treated as such," He exclaimed.

Kingsley raised his eyebrows in amusement and shared a look with Hyphen before he spoke.

"A pleasure, I'm sure, Minister Fudge. I'm Minister Shacklebolt and neither am I used to being treated as such," Kingsley demurred.

"What do you mean 'as such'? You're the ones who attacked us!" Fudge blustered.

"And you're the ones who kidnapped us," Hyphen replied stonily.

Fudge huffed and plugged, but there was no denying that Fudge and his sycophants had summoned the two men against their will.

"So, just to clear things up, Lord Voldemort has returned, you all are on the brink of war, Dumbledore won't live forever, and Fudge is an incompetent bafoon at best," Hyphen bluntly stated.

Fudge was so shocked he could not respond, while both Unspeakables were sent into contemplative thoughts. Dolores Umbridge, who was capable of neither contemplative thought nor reticence, became enraged.

"You dirty, rotten liars! Making up stories and lies to make Cornelius look bad. Well, I won't stand for it! You are all liars," she proclaimed.

As she spoke, Kingsley and Hyphen grew angrier and angrier. The temperature in the hall seemed to drop several degrees.

Hyphen walked towards Umbridge, his face stoic and his stance menacing. He stopped less than an arm's length away, and in a soft but firm voice that carried across the hall, said, "I assure you, Dolores, that I speak the truth. Because one must not tell lies."

Dolores' face transformed into a horrified mask.

"It's you!" she exclaimed in disbelief.

"Yes, it is," he returned.

"Who?!" Fudge demanded of his Senior Undersecretary.

"It's Harry Potter," she said.

No one made a sound. Every person in the Great Hall was staring at the Head Auror in disbelief. He pulled out his wand and removed the enchantments disguising him. His blue eyes turned to green, his long hair was suddenly short, the brown hair darkened to black.

Professor Dumbledore smiled and his eyes wrinkled brightly. He stared at the man with pride. But before he could confess his pride in the boy, the two time travelers stiffened.

"We're about to be pulled back. I can feel it," Harry said.

"Yes, I can feel it as well," Kingsley added.

The travelers knew their time in the past was coming to a close, so they prepared themselves for the jump. But Harry had one last thing to say.

"Professor?" Harry called.

Dumbledore turned to look at the man.

"Don't," the time traveller stated succinctly.

The professor looked at the man in confusion.

"Don't regret what has happened in your life, professor. Do not regret that it has been done. Rejoice in what it has wrought, headmaster," Harry clarified.

"How can I rejoice in the deaths I have caused, in the lives I have ruined?" Dumbledore asked, full of regret and anger.

"Do you think that Grindelwald would not have found his way to the Hallows with out your help? Do you not think that your own cleverness would have led you to the power of darkness had you not been burned so harshly? Would you have ever learned the value of love and life with out your mistakes, professor?" Hyphen commanded.

"I killed her, my dear boy. She would still be alive had I not made such horrible decisions," Dumbledore argued.

"It is those mistakes that brought you here, professor, to this place that you are now! And do not regret them. Because those mistakes have saved us all. You understand the greater good better than anyone else. Surely, you can understand this. You are more powerful than any one alive. And, once upon a time, you were so enamored with your own power and intelligence, you could have destroyed us all. And it was only the horror of what those mistakes wrought that taught you the value of humility, of temperance. That taught you what the difference was between what is right and what is easy," Hyphen passionately proclaimed.

Dumbledore could only stare at the man in reply.

The magic began to build. Their time was almost up.

"Professor, I forgive you," Harry said and then he and Kingsley disappeared.