A little light filtered through the thin openings of the curtains blocking the windows, a stark contrast to the dark room Harry currently inhabited. It was morning.

On the bed lay a prone figure, moaning and gasping in his sleep. Abruptly, he bolted upright. He sat there a while, staring blankly at the opposite wall. After a couple of minutes, he flopped back into his bed just as quickly as he had sat up.

Laying there for several moments, he staggered out of bed, his glasses lopsided on his face. He stretched, and started to walk towards his bathroom, when something caught his eye – his journal, to be precise. When he saw what he had written within, his face lit up, and there was a certain bounce in his step as he began his day.

He finished all the necessary morning requirements, and headed down to the kitchens, where he predominantly took his meals. Harry hated the stares and the murmurs that occurred whenever he went down to the Great Hall, so he rarely went there anymore. But the kitchens…the kitchens were another matter. The house elves, though they were in awe of him, did not stop working to stare at him. They merely treated him with respect, and Harry had come to trust them, especially Dobby.

Dobby was one of those people Harry couldn’t push away. No matter how hard he tried, Dobby still remained faithful. Of course, he should have known that already; after all, Dobby had taken great lengths to keep Harry safe for years – including sending a homing bludger him so he would have to leave Hogwarts. Yep, definitely zealous.

“Good morning, Sir Master Harry Potter sir,” said Dobby, bowing excitedly. “What is Dobby do for you today?”

“Hi Dobby,” said Harry, smiling a little, knowing he could never get the elf to call him just ‘Harry’. “I’m Harry, remember, Dobby?

“Yes,” came the reply. “Sir Master Harry.”

That was as close as it would get, he supposed. “I just want a little breakfast. Do you mind –”

Immediately, the house elves began preparing food for him. By the time Harry completed the sentence, he had a full course meal big enough for twenty people laid out in front of him.

“Uh…Dobby?” asked Harry weakly. “You know I can’t finish all of that.”

Dobby shook his head emphatically. “Sir Master Harry must be getting strong again, so Sir Master Harry must eat more.”

“Dobby…”

“Is Dobby doing a bad thing?” asked Dobby, and began hitting himself. “Bad Dobby, bad Dobby, for not listening to great wizard Sir Master Harry, bad Dobby!”

“Dobby, no! Stop that!” exclaimed Harry, and then sighed. “Say, Dobby, how would you like to help me finish all of this?”

“Oh, no, Sir Master Harry sir, Dobby cannot be eating with you,” said Dobby. “Dobby not good enough to eat with Sir Master Harry.”

“Dobby, I order you to eat with me,” said Harry firmly. “And all the other house elves as well.”

All of them sat down around the table, shuffling and anxiously looking at one another. Harry sighed. Hermione hadn’t been right – house elves really did like servitude. He took a huge bite out of his omelette. Ugh, he hated egg, but he spoke anyways, “Mmm…this tastes wonderful! Why don’t you try?”

Pretty soon, all the eggs were gone, and Harry ended up trying each and every dish before he could get them to eat with him. He sat there for a while, pretending to be occupied with his food until all the food was gone. “That was an excellent meal, thank you. I’ll see you later then.”

As he sauntered out of the kitchen, he heard Dobby say, “See? Sir Master Harry Potter is a great wizard!”

He smiled.

********

Harry wanted to bang his head out of frustration. Of all the books he had poured through, he had found nothing decisive about time travelling. It was infuriating. How could Hogwarts, the greatest institution of Magic in the United Kingdom, not have anything on time travelling?

Oh, he had found references, but they had all led to dead ends. Or the normal time turners, which could turn back only several hours. Useless. Utterly useless. What was he going to do?

He banged his head on the table, hoping the pain would give him an epiphany. It did nothing of the sort – as any logical person could tell you – but it did bring something, or rather, someone.

“Sir Master Harry Potter is not to be hurting himself, sir!” said Dobby, flinging himself on to the table to catch his head before Harry’s head could bang against it again. “If Dobby is bad house elf, Dobby will punish himself. Sir Master Harry Potter is not to be punishing himself for bad Dobby’s actions!”

“Oh, Dobby,” said Harry, his eyes just a bit glazed. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m just…frustrated.”

“Frustrated?” Dobby’s ears perked up. “Can poor house elf Dobby help Sir Master Harry with his problem? Oh, but Dobby can offer only the smallest –”

Harry interrupted him, joking, “Only if you know how to travel back to the past.”

Silence greeted his comment. “Err, Dobby?”

“Dobby wonders if Sir Master Harry can keep a secret?” Then he started bashing himself. “No, no, Dobby knows Sir Master Harry can. Dobby is not doubting Sir Master Harry’s secret keeping, no –”

“Don’t worry, Dobby,” said Harry gently, out of fear Dobby might actually break his skull from all that pounding. “What is it?”

Dobby looked nervously around, and reached upwards, landing on top of the table until he was at eye level with Harry. He leaned over and whispered, “Dobbycantravelbackwards.”

“What?!?”

“Dobby can travel back in time,” whispered Dobby again.

“You can?” Harry asked, astounded, and almost knocked dumb. House elves could travel in time?

“Dobby can travel to past,” answered Dobby emphatically. “But Dobby can only stay for a day before Dobby has to go forward.”

“Err…you mean, back to this time, right?” said Harry, his mouth gaping, until Dobby’s words caught up to him. “Oh…well, that’s not much use…”

“Sir Master Harry not think Dobby is good?” asked Dobby sadly. “Bad Dobby, bad Dobby!”

“No, no, Dobby, you’ve been a great help,” Harry hastily amended. “Thanks a lot, Dobby.”

Dobby was on a roll, though. “Sir Master Harry wishes to go back in time?”

“Yeah…”

Dobby lowered his voice again, almost conspiratorially. “When Dobby serve bad wizards, Dobby see lots of books on time travel in secret bookshelf that bad wizard never see.”

Harry’s head shot up. “Wait, you mean the Malfoys? “

Dobby nodded. “Dobby can show Sir Master Harry if Sir Master Harry likes.”

“I’d love to!” he hugged Dobby exuberantly, and then retracted, when Dobby recoiled.

“Sir Master Harry hug Dobby!” Dobby popped away in his excitement, forgetting what he had just said.

“Hey, Dobby, you’re supposed to be showing me – ”

Dobby apparated back in. “Oh, Dobby is forgetful, bad Dobby!”

“Uhhh…it’s okay, just show me, okay?” said Harry. Where the hell did that hug come from? He shook his head. Must be Hermione’s influence…Hermione. What right did he have daydreaming when he had a job to do?

“Dobby go collect the books for you?” asked Dobby.

“Do you mind if I come along?” asked Harry. “I’d really like to see for myself.”

“Okay, Dobby shall meet Sir Master Harry at bad wizards’ house,” said Dobby, and he popped away. Harry quickly followed using Apparition, since he had been to Malfoy Manor several times. The last time he had been there…he had been so tempted to burn it with all the occupants inside. Regretfully, Hermione had held him back, citing the house elves’ well being.

“How could you, Harry? There are innocent people in there!” exclaimed Hermione.

“The Malfoys, innocent?” scoffed Ron. “I’d sooner eat a sock than believe that.”

“No, idiot, the house elves,” said Hermione. “Let’s just go in and grab the Horcrux and leave. Besides…uncontrolled Fiendfyre is not a good thing, anyways. Attracts too much attention.”

Of course, they had been gravely injured and had almost been caught. Fortunately for them (and probably to Harry’s and Ron’s utter dismay), a house elf helped them out. Hermione had never been able to keep from shoving it in their faces every time when they were tempted to moan when her favourite topic – more-rights-for-the-house-elves campaign – came up.

He sprawled upon landing. Like floos, he had never been able to land safely upon arrival. But then again, he hated magical transportation. He sighed. If he really was going to travel back in time, he had better make sure he knew how to Apparate. It would look extremely awkward and would attract too much attention – which he definitely didn’t want. While he was researching time travelling, he might as well pick up a few books on how to land properly after Apparition too.

He looked up, and winced. The house looked ghastly. Of course, since all the Malfoys were in custody, it was empty. But still…there was a haunted feeling around the house.

Most of the house elves had been commissioned to Hogwarts, so it was a surprise when Dobby came out of the house with a very familiar house elf – Cribsy, the very same house elf who had rescued Harry and his friends the last time they were here.

“Sir Master Harry Potter!” Dobby waved.

When Harry reached the two of them, Dobby proceeded to introduce them. “Sir Master Harry Potter is a great wizard. He is rescued the whole Wizarding world. Sir Master Harry Potter, sir, this is Cribsy.”

Harry’s throat was dry all of a sudden. “We’ve met, Dobby…we’ve met.” He cleared his throat, and continued. “Cribsy…thank you.”

He could say no more, but it was just as well, since Cribsy abruptly burst into tears at the extended thanks. “Master Harry Potter sir does not need to thank Cribsy, sir. Cribsy is only doing Cribsy’s duty.”

“Nevertheless…” said Harry. “You rescued us. And…we – I – owe you much.”

“No, Master Harry Potter sir is not owing Cribsy anything,” said Cribsy. “Cribsy only do what is right.”

There was silence, before Harry broke it by saying, “Well, Dobby, Cribsy, let’s see what this old house has to offer.”

At Dobby’s wave, the massive doors in the front creaked open.

********

They walked down corridor after corridor. No wonder Draco had been such a spoiled prat; he practically lived in a mansion! If his parents had lived, would he have lived like this too? He shuddered. What if he had turned out like Draco? He made a mental note not to become a prat…if he got the chance to.

Dobby spoke. “Sir Master Harry sir is follow Dobby and Cribsy downstairs.”

Downstairs? Harry hadn’t seen any stairs…Oh. Dobby stopped at the seemingly dead-end corridor, and tapped a Gothic statue on the left. Moments later, the statue shifted away, revealing a door. Cribsy opened it.

If Harry had thought it was spooky before…well, he was wrong. There were cobwebs along the side of the staircase, and the remnants of Dark Magic were still present. The only light available came from the house elves, and Harry’s Lumos. Harry shuddered. He didn’t mind Dark Magic, per say, but the Malfoys’ use of it was certainly malicious. And he hated the dark.

After about a hundred and thirteen steps (Harry had lost count at about ninety-two), they finally arrived at the bottom. On one side were the dungeons. The other wall had a door. Dobby opened this door, and Harry saw another flight of stairs. What was this place and stairs? He groaned. His knees were definitely not happy.

Cribsy spoke. “Master Harry Potter sir must be careful not to hit Master Harry Potter’s head –”

The warning came too late. Harry smashed his head on the overhang. “Why in Merlin’s name is this so low?”

The two house elves shrugged. Harry fixed the bruise and they continued onwards. After over two hundred more steps, Harry wanted to scream. When were they going to get there? The staircase seemed to extend ‘til kingdom come. Abruptly, the two house elves stopped, and Harry almost crashed into them. Cribsy traced a long finger on the markings on the right side of the stairs. They waited. The two house elves obviously expected something. Suddenly, a door popped into existence.

Dobby opened the door. Harry stepped into the room, and he could not help but look about in awe. Inside, was a library, certainly not what he had expected thirty feet under. There were fifteen rows of shelves, certainly much smaller than Hogwarts’ library, but a decent size, nonetheless. The carpet looked new, and it shimmered a silky green. In front of the shelves was a table, upon which a catalogue sat upon. Harry had only seen one of these once, when he had sneaked into the Lestrange Mansion, to look for a certain text on lethal spells. It was a strange place for it to be in, since well, both Bellatrix and her husband weren’t the most intelligent of people. But it certainly did explain why they had such vicious spells, especially on Bellatrix’s part. Or maybe she was just insane to begin with.

Dobby led the two of them to the very back of the room, where a huge portrait frame hung. It was empty.

“Err, Dobby?”

“Shhh, Sir Master Harry,” said Dobby, his forehead creased. Dobby walked towards the right of the frame, and stroked it. Immediately, stairs popped up, just under the frame. What was with this place’s obsession with stairs??

“Sir Master Harry must walk through this frame to get the books. Not even bad wizards know of this place. Secret for very long time, yes,” said Dobby. “Dobby and Cribsy will follow Sir Master Harry.”

Harry took a deep breath.

“Master Harry Potter sir?” asked Cribsy, who looked a bit nervous behind him. He didn’t blame her at all; he did feel a bit faint.

“I-I’m all right,” said Harry. “I’ll just walk in then.”

He braced himself, and moments later, he found himself smashed on the floor of the library. “W-what happened?”

“Sir Master Harry Potter crash himself on the portrait,” said Dobby.

“So…I can’t go in?” asked Harry weakly, his head still spinning from the impact. ‘

“Dobby does not know,” said Dobby, after exchanging several looks with Cribsy. “Maybe Sir Master Harry Potter can try again?”

“Oh, hell,” muttered Harry. “Can we just take a break for a minute?”

The two house elves nodded. “Master Harry Potter sir?” ventured Cribsy. “Does Master Harry Potter sir mind if Cribsy make a suggestion?”

“Sure, Cribsy,” said Harry, holding an aching head.

“Master Harry Potter sir must think of empty space when walking through the portrait frame,” said Cribsy gravely. “Or Master Harry Potter sir will crash again.”

“It’s just like Platform 9¾, then?” asked Harry, interested. “Hey, Dobby, didn’t you make that border solid? Can’t you just make it disappear?”

“If Dobby make the portrait frame disappear…” said Dobby sceptically. “What Cribsy think?”

“Cribsy think Dobby will destroy the house,” said Cribsy dryly. “Master Harry Potter should just walk through.”

Harry had to hide a laugh. Dobby was destructive – to a point. “Well, can’t blame me for asking, right? I guess I should be all right. I mean, it’s like Platform 9¾, and I’ve crossed through that a billion times!”

“Sir Master Harry Potter sir can do it!” cheered Dobby.

“Thanks, Dobby,” said Harry, steadying himself. He pictured just another stair past the frame, and then, he was through. For a minute, he wanted to jump up and down, like he had when Ginny had first answered ‘yes’ when he had asked her out. This was good; it was just another step closer to seeing her again.

He took a closer look around the room. It was brightly lit, with a desk opposite to the doorway. The desk looked well-used, but it still retained its dignity, despite all the documents scattered upon it. Along the walls lined several shelves. Harry was amazed. To think the Malfoys had such a cozy room! And so…messy too!

As if in answer to this thought, Cribsy said, “Master Harry Potter sir, bad wizards never know of this place.”

“What?” Harry asked. “Then…whose study was this?”

“Mine,” said a voice behind him.

“Merlin…” said Harry.

The man chuckled. “Oh dear, I had hoped my name hadn’t been turned into an expletive, but I suppose it can’t be helped.”

“Right,” said Harry sceptically. “You’re really Merlin?”

“In the person,” answered Merlin, his eyes twinkling not unlike Albus Dumbledore’s were prone to when presented with a colossal joke only he could understand. “Now, young sir, I take it you were looking for information on time travelling?”

“How did you know?” Harry’s mouth gaped open.

“My name isn’t Merlin for nothing, young whippersnapper,” said Merlin, his eyes infernally twinkling. “It’s quite impossible not to hear what your thoughts are broadcasting.”

“Y-you’re using Legilimency?” raged Harry. “How dare –”

Merlin looked offended. “Nothing of the sort! How crude. No, I only know because that’s all you’re focused upon. It’s almost impossible not to hear them. I, my dear young Harry Potter, am a telepath.”

“There’s a difference?”

“Why, of course there’s a difference!” Merlin’s face was grave. “Do you mean to tell me no one has ever told you this before?”

“No…I don’t even think normal people know about Legilimency,” said Harry doubtfully. “Or Occlumency, for that matter.”

“Oh dear. Well, both those arts are focused upon crude means of defense and offense. Occlumency is not as distasteful, I must add. Legilimency, on the other hand, is the ability to tear apart an opponent’s mind in order to garner information. Highly rude and cruel, if you were to ask me. These arts can be learned, though there are people with natural talent in this area.

Telepathy on the other hand…comes naturally, inherited by magical means. For example, my mentor was a telepath, and he passed it on to me. Telepaths can hear the thoughts of those around them. As such, many of those who do not deserve the gift often become mad. I was fortunate; I learned to control my gift early on.

Telepaths also have a natural ability to occlude. In other words, their minds are always defended from Legilimency. Occlumens must always be on guard and must constantly keep their shields up. Telepaths have no such hardships; telepathy instantly blocks any unwelcome intrusions.”

“So I didn’t have to learn Occlumency?” asked Harry.

“Well…there are no current telepaths that I know of, except me, of course,” said Merlin. “So yes, you –” He paused. “You had to learn Occlumency??”

“Well, yeah,” said Harry. “It was the only way to keep What’s-His-Face out of my head.”

Merlin chuckled. “What’s-His-Face?”

“Oh, I guess you wouldn’t know,” said Harry. “Voldemort.”

“Ah…” Merlin’s face darkened. “I have sensed his presence here many a time. I have also sense you as well…”

“Oh,” said Harry. “I was linked to him through my curse scar.” He lifted the fringe of hair from his forehead. “See?”

“I take it he…has passed on?” asked Merlin. “I can no longer sense evil emanating from the scar.”

“Oh, yeah,” said Harry, and his face darkened. “A couple days ago…along with my friends.”

“Hence your attempt to enter the past,” nodded Merlin. “Well, all my research is at your disposal. I’ve spent several centuries acquiring these, so please do not break anything.”

“Wait,” said Harry. “You mean, you can actually time travel?”

“Yes,” said Merlin. “But not in the way you want. You want to stay there, no?”

“Mhm,” nodded Harry.

“I can send myself bodily to any time,” said Merlin. “But I cannot stay there for long. Maybe…half a year or so.”

“That’s longer than what Dobby can do,” said Harry. “Maybe if I keep looking, I’ll find it.”

“House elves can travel in time?” asked Merlin.

“Oh, yes sir, great wizard Master Merlin sir,” said Dobby. “But only travel back and stay for a day. Useful for cleaning up, Master Merlin sir.”

“Ah,” said Merlin. “Indeed.” His hand reached up to stroke his beard. “Perhaps that is the missing link.”

“Sir?” asked Harry.

“Come,” said Merlin. “Let me show you what I have.”

Harry and the house elves walked towards the desk. Merlin gathered several of the documents, and laid them in order. “Now, here is Stephen Hawking’s proposal: wormholes. According to this theory, a person must travel faster than the speed of light, and has to be within a specific frame of the time-space continuum…oh, never mind. I see I’ve lost you.”

At Harry’s nod, Merlin continued. “When you use Apparition, you travel faster than the speed of light, no? Well, then, technically, you can Apparate into the past.”

“If it was that easy, why hasn’t anyone done it yet?”

“Patience, Harry. Apparition, in itself, is not enough. You must find a tear in the time-space continuum.”

“Do those even exist?”

“Theoretically, yes,” said Merlin. “But this method is not failsafe. When I first started out, I landed in an alternate universe.”

How did you – ”

“How did I know?” chuckled Merlin. “I was evil there.”

“Nice,” said Harry, grinning. “So what other theories are there?”

“Based upon Hawking’s theory, I realized we had a problem. Understand this: each action creates a separate universe. Say, Minerva McGonagall had dated Tom Riddle in her sixth year. Then Tom Riddle would not have become Voldemort,” said Merlin.

“I see…” said Harry pensively, then his face turned incredulous. “Wait, Professor McGonagall was asked out by the most evil Dark Lord of all times…and she turned him down?”

“Indeed,” chuckled Merlin. “But she had a crush on her Transfiguration professor…”

“Ugh,” said Harry. “I didn’t need to know that.”

“So,” continued Merlin, unruffled. “The second theory here is one of my first ones. I expanded upon Hawking’s proposal. What if we could, in fact, plot our course back in time?”

“I’m sorry,” said Harry. “But you’ve confused me AND I’ve got a headache.”

“Not to worry,” said Merlin. “It took me close to ten centuries to figure it out – well, relatively, if you – oh, never mind.

How do I explain this…ah, perfect. Harry, what is anchored to a specific place, enabling you to enter said place?”

“Err…” Harry’s forehead creased. “A Portkey?”

“Exactly!” said Merlin. “Not a total lost cause, then.”

“Hey!” objected Harry. “That’s offensive.”

“My dear Harry, you do know I’m only teasing you,” said Merlin with a chuckle.

“But seriously, is it really that simple?” Harry asked. “Only Apparition and Portkeys involved?”

“And the rip in time-space continuum,” said Merlin. “I’ve found several already, so no need to worry.

Now, the only problem with this is…you need to place a Portkey on the day before the day of your arrival. I did this by placing a specially designed Portkey, but it took me several tries to end up in this universe. And I had to wait half a year before I ended up in my time before…anyways, it doesn’t matter.

“On second thought it does…but I’ll come back to it. Now, the final of my work involves travelling to the future –”

“But I don’t need –”

“Think about it. When you, and your past self reach the same age, won’t you merge? That’s the difficulty of travelling in time when you still exist.”

“But won’t I grow too?” protested Harry.

“Interesting…I don’t actually know, since I tend to only stay a few days here and there. But surely your soul is the same, no? Won’t you two have to share the same soul, thereby merging?”

“But your soul is defined by who you become, right?”

“A little more than that, but yes, I suppose you could say that,” Merlin stroked his beard thoughtfully. “Your soul is pure to begin with, and your life’s experiences define it. I suppose that wouldn’t be a problem then. Well done, Harry, you’re improving quite quickly.”

“Hilarious,” said Harry, rolling his eyes.

“But it would be very suspicious if you were to show up with the same genetic make-up as Harry James Potter.”

“I AM Harry James Potter!”

“Not in the past, you can’t be,” said Merlin. “You stay once at St. Mungo’s and the entire world will know.”

“So I don’t get hurt,” argued Harry.

Dobby giggled behind his hands. “It’s impossible for Sir Master Harry Potter, great wizard Master Merlin, sir.”

“Hey!” Harry objected. “You know, half the time I did get injured in second year was your fault. Besides, it’s not like I’ll have evil wizards after me.”

“No, but they’ll be after the younger one, and knowing you, you’ll probably be watching over him,” said Merlin. “So yes, I think it is reasonable to deduce that you will be injured.”

“I hate logic,” said Harry grumpily. “Fine. So, oh-most-venerable wizard, how do I set about changing my genes?”

“If I was so revered, my dear boy, my name wouldn’t be used as an expletive,” chuckled Merlin. “I found a spell to do just the thing in the eighteenth century, I believe, though I had help from the twenty-third.”

“Okay, stop, you’re making my head hurt,” said Harry. “So where’s the spell?”

“Hmm…let me see,” said Merlin, rummaging around in his papers. “I put it here somewhere…”

“This is what happens after you live thousands of years,” muttered Harry. “You go barmy.”

Dobby and Cribsy let out peals of laughter. Merlin didn’t turn around, though he did say, “I heard that.”

Harry began to look at the diagrams on the table. “So, Merlin, what you said before in short is this: a) I go back with Dobby to place the Portkey, b) come back and find the rip thing, c) Apparate or use another portkey to the portkey in the past…wait. You said you can only stay half a year. I need more time than that! I might be able to save my mum and dad, but I want to kill off Voldemort too!”

“I told you I was coming back to that,” said Merlin. “Though I was originally going to place the portkey for you, since I need to go back to that time anyways.”

“Well, Dobby and I could do it,” said Harry. “And we can put yours there too, while we’re at it.”

“Capital idea, young fellow,” said Merlin. “Aha! Here it is: partum novus mihi. It doesn’t require any intricate wand movements. But you have to do it.”

“Great,” said Harry dejectedly. “I’m probably going to mess it up.”

“You also have to picture what you want to look like,” said Merlin. “So do a little research. I suggest you find someone related to the Potters. If you don’t, you’ll be in a lot more pain for a long while.”

Harry blanched. “What if I end up looking like a James look-alike?”

Merlin sighed. “I guess I do have to do everything.

You don’t have to worry about that. Look,” said Merlin, pointing to a chart on the wall. “Your grandfather, Charlus Potter married Dorea Black, and they had James, who had you.”

“Yeah, so?”

“Well, look here,” said Merlin. “Charlus Potter had a younger half-brother, Albert Fitzpotter, illegitimate, might I add,” said Merlin. “He disappeared with his mother soon after he turned eleven. I’m certain we can create a plausible back story with this. At this age…you could be his son!”

“He really disappeared?” asked Harry. “And he’s definitely not going to turn up? I mean, I’d look crazy if he’s still alive and he’s never been married!”

“Oh, the Wizarding World proclaimed both him and his mother dead around 1978, I believe,” said Merlin. “I went back once to look for him, but I could never find him.”

“Wait, why did you look him up?” asked Harry. “And how can you be sure he’s not just some really talented bloke?”

“Because he’s a squib,” said Merlin. “I looked him up for a study, that’s all.”

“A study?” asked Harry, but when Merlin shook his head, he dropped the subject. “So, who is he hypothetically married to?”

“Well, do you prefer to have a magical mother, or a squib mother?” inquired Merlin. “Or perhaps a plain Muggle one?”

“Muggle might be better,” said Harry thoughtfully. “That way, the Wizarding World can’t trace her.”

“Excellent,” said Merlin. “Now, let’s see…” He went to a nearby shelf, and pulled out a large briefcase. “Interesting things, these Muggle briefcases. Now…how old are you?”

“Err…nineteen?”

“Really,” said Merlin absentmindedly. “Your mother’s name?”

“I don’t know…”

“Okay, let’s come back to that. So, your name?”

“Err, Alexander…”

“Matthieu Fitzpotter,” said Merlin. “Excellent name. Alexandre Matthieu Fitzpotter. You know any French?”

“Well, Fleur taught me some,” said Harry. “I know enough to get directions, but that’s about it.”

“Well, fortunately for you, I have a very handy spell here,” said Merlin. “It’s permanent though, and you can only learn one language from it.”

“Wait, then why’d I have to spend so much time learning French then?” asked Harry, exasperated.

“Because it’s my personal invention, that’s why,” said Merlin. “So, is it French then?”

“Will my English have a French accent?” asked Harry. “’Cause that’d be bad…”

“No, you won’t,” said Merlin with a laugh. “Perfect French and perfect English.”

“Good,” sighed Harry with relief. “I don’t think Ron would ever let me live it down.”

Merlin started thrusting papers at him. “Okay, here’s your birth certificate, these are your O.W.L.s and your N.E.W.T.s, your citizenship…am I missing anything?”

“Only my apparition license,” joked Harry.

“Ah, here,” said Merlin. “Okay, let me fix your language deficiency.”

“Language deficiency my ass,” said Harry, while Merlin was performing the spell. “Je n’ai pas stupide.”

“Oui,” said Merlin. “Tu es un bête.”

“Now,” said Merlin. “Speak to me in English.”

“Quel – woah, sorry, wrong language,” started Harry, then paused. “Wicked! I can speak French!”

“Yes, yes,” said Merlin, in an almost patronizing tone. “Now, to change your appearance, do you remember the incantation?”

“Partum novus mihi,” recited Harry.

“All right. Now, all we have to do is pick a name for your mother. Marie Cherise Fitzpotter, née…Legrand. How’s that?”

“All right, I guess,” said Harry. “Now, what does she look like?”

“It doesn’t matter,” said Merlin. “All we have to do is take the new you, and then create her off of you. So, what do you look like?”

“What can I keep?” asked Harry, almost sadly. “I know I won’t be able to keep my eyes, but what about everything else?”

“Well, let’s see. The hair can stay, but let’s change the colour. A lighter brown maybe?”

“Can I have tamer hair this time around? My hair always looks like a bird’s nest when I wake up in the morning,” said Harry, making a face.

“Your call,” said Merlin. “You can look any way you want, as long as you keep one Potter trait. So, do you want to keep your face structure, or your height? Perhaps you should keep your face structure the same. It’ll be easier to acclimatize you.”

“Wait, I can change my height?”

“Why not?” asked Merlin. “How tall are you now?”

“About 172.7 cm, why?”

“Well, you can give or take two inches, or 5.1 cm,” said Merlin. “So, do you want to be taller or shorter?”

“Taller, obviously! I hated being shorter than Ron,” said Harry.

“All right then,” said Merlin. “What would that be…177.8 cm. I love Muggle calculators.

Now, your eyes? What colour should they be? Maybe a sea green, or bright blue. Or maybe hazel?”

“If my eyes were hazel, wouldn’t they think my dad and I are twins?” objected Harry. “But I don’t fancy myself having blue eyes either. And if I have a dimmer green, I’ll still look almost the same.”

“Amber? Grey? Brown?”

“Grey…” said Harry. “That sounds good.”

“All right, hair colour, check. Hair type, check. Eye colour, check. Facial structure, check. Height, check. Anything else?”

“I don’t think so,” said Harry. “Now what?”

“Well, picture it for me, and let me see how it looks,” said Merlin. Seeing Harry’s look, he sighed. “All right, let’s do this the hard way. Okay, we’ll have to take a picture and then modify it.”

“Why didn’t you just do that in the first place?” asked Harry.

“Because I thought you were intelligent enough without the unnecessary process,” said Merlin, while snapping the picture. “Apparently not.”

“Hey, you didn’t have to insult my intelligence,” protested Harry as he watched Merlin modify the picture. “So what’ve you got?”

“This,” said Merlin, and he placed a picture on the desk.

“That’s not me, is it?” asked Harry.

“Of course not!” exclaimed Merlin.

“Then who is it?” asked Harry.

“Alexandre Matthieu Fitzpotter,” said Merlin.

“So that is me!” said Harry, and a realization came to his head. “You hateful old man!”

“Your fault you fell for it,” said Merlin. “It’s not my fault you’re so naïve. Maybe we can improve your brainpower, while we’re at it.”

“Hey!”

“Anyways, does that look good enough for you?” asked Merlin. “You can change into that now, if you like.”

“Yeah, I guess…” said Harry, after a pause. “But…could you take a picture of me now? So I remember what I look like?”

Merlin took a new picture, and gave it to him. “Here you go. So, remember, partum novus mihi. By the way, the missing genes…will come naturally with the look. I’ve already factored in Albert Fitzpotter, and his wife. So don’t worry about it.”

“All right, not going to worry,” said Harry. “I’m so ready for this.”

He turned the wand on himself, and carefully pictured the man portrayed in the first picture. “Partum novus mihi!”

What was going on? Why was the world spinning? And why did he hurt so much? As quickly as it had come, the feeling was gone. The last thing he saw was Merlin’s face…before he blacked out.

********

“Master Harry Potter sir?”

“Are you awake, Sir Master Harry sir?”

Harry groaned. What happened? Why was he on a bed?

“Ah, my dear Harry, you’ve woken up at last,” said Merlin with a chuckle.

“Oh, Merlin,” said Harry, falling back onto the bed.

“You know, I’d really appreciate people not using my name in place of swear words. I mean there’s really no point to calling me, is there? Though I used to answer once in a while and scare them…Never mind. Here’s a muggle picture of your mother, father, and you together. It took us close to two hours,” said Merlin. “Come, Harry, we still have a lot to do.”

Harry took the picture into his hands. “Wow, thanks.”

The four of them walked back into the study. Merlin pointed to a desk on the left that previously had not been there. Upon the desk sat several large books, with bookmarks sticking out of them. There was also a pile of paper on top of the books. “There,” said Merlin. “Go learn your entire family history. I have to work out with the house elves how you can stay longer in the past.”

“All right,” said Harry, and seated himself on the table. Hopefully not all of this would be just his family…that’d be awful. As he sat down, he glanced at the mirror in front of the desk. His face remained relatively the same, but his eyes had changed shape as well as colour. Instead of the wide green eyes, his eyes were smaller and grey. His russet brown hair was long, extending back to just past his shoulders. He looked like a hippie.

“Hey, Dobby?”

“Yes, Sir Master Harry sir?”

“Could you err, help me tie my hair back?” asked Harry. “Not a full ponytail, but lower, you know?”

“Ah, Sir Master Harry would like a lower than neck ponytail?” Dobby’s hands moved quickly.

“Yes, perfect,” said Harry with relief. “Thanks.”

“Sir Master Harry is welcome,” said Dobby. “Dobby is going back to work now.”

He stepped back, and looked at himself. When he was at his original height, he looked almost stocky. Now, he was a lot leaner. If he gained a few muscles, he would look…decent. He frowned. Maybe he should’ve picked blue eyes. Oh well, either way, he still looked good.

He poured through the books, and was utterly fascinated. Who knew the Potters had so many scandals? He was so absorbed he didn’t even hear Merlin’s shout. It wasn’t until Dobby shook him that he heard Merlin’s exuberant yells of “EUREKA!”

Harry shook his head. Ancient was as ancient does. “So, what’ve you found?”

“What do you know about Portkeys?” asked Merlin excitedly.

“Well, when you use them, they get you to the place you want,” said Harry.

“Yes, yes, but how is it made?” asked Merlin.

“Oh,” Harry frowned. “I’m not sure.”

“Well, that’s not really important,” said Merlin. “Except for the fact that Portkeys don’t last long because they’re linked to human magic.”

“So?”

“Well, human magic cannot be drained exhaustively, right?” asked Merlin, playing the patient teacher. Harry nodded, and Merlin continued. “Well, thus, the Portkeys don’t last for very long. The person who uses the Portkey attaches his magical signature upon it, and the Portkey uses the person’s inner magic to fuel it. Thus, when your magic senses it is in danger of being drained, the Portkey automatically detaches itself.

Wild magic, on the other hand, is not so. Since it is continuously being refilled, there is no danger of this. So we can use this to anchor you to the past!” exclaimed Merlin. “All we have to do is use a small portion of your magical signature – you have a lot of magic in your core to spare anyways. The rest of the magic needed to fuel the Portkey we will use wild magic.”

“Wait, Merlin,” said Harry. “I-I can use wild magic.”

“You can?” Merlin’s eyes almost popped out.

“Yeah,” said Harry. “I called it from under Hogwarts in order to defeat Voldemort.”

“Excellent,” said Merlin. “Well, you know, you could go right now.”

“I suppose,” said Harry. “But what about money?”

“Don’t worry, Master Harry Potter,” said Cribsy. “Dobby and Cribsy have already taken out all the money from the Black and Potter vaults. And we have your trunk over there.”

“T-thanks, Cribsy, Dobby,” said Harry, his throat dry all of a sudden. “We should place the Portkey in the past now.”

Merlin placed a Portkey in his hand. “Now, to link it, call forth the wild magic. A normal Portkey has a trigger placed on it, in order to activate. This one does no such thing; it will create an anchor for you. You will be linked to it and will gravitate towards that Portkey when you Apparate with it tomorrow. Are you ready?”

Harry nodded. “Dobby?”

“Yes, Sir Master Harry?” asked Dobby.

“Can you bring me to October 30th, 1981?” asked Harry.

“Yes, Dobby can!”

Without so much of a “get ready”, the two of them were hurtling through a dark tunnel. Harry almost threw up, but he closed his eyes to stave off the feeling. It seemed like forever before they came out the other end.

“We is here, Sir Master Harry sir,” said Dobby.

“Dobby, while we’re here, please call me Alex,” said Harry. “After all, that is who I am now.”

“Yes, Sir Master Alex sir,” said Dobby.

“Now, we should go to Godric’s Hollow,” said Harry, or rather, Alex. “We need to be close by when Voldemort attacks.”

“Yes, Sir Master Ha-Alex, sir,” said Dobby. “Should Dobby ‘pop’ us over?”

“All right,” said Alex. “It’s not going to hu – ”

Seconds later, they popped just outside the forest surrounding the house.

“That’s funny,” saidAlex. “I thought Dumbledore had this under Fidelius.”

“Sir Master Alex is right,” said Dobby. “But since we is knowing about it already, we is able to see the house.”

“Oh,” said Alex. “That makes sense.”

He took a look around. “Hey Dobby, can you make us invisible? I don’t want to use my magic. They’ll definitely notice it.”

“Yes, Sir Master Alex sir,” said Dobby.

Confident, Alex summoned the wild magic he had felt before. True to its name, it was wild, but at Alex’s touch, it tamed. In no time at all, the Portkey was anchored to this time and place. “All right Dobby, we can go now.”

“But Sir Master Alex sir?” said Dobby. “Would Sir Master Alex sir be liking to see his parents?”

“Well, I guess it couldn’t hurt,” said Alex. “But just one peek, and then we’re out of here.”

They crept up the hill, being very careful to stay silent. They took a look into a window.

“James?” said Lily. “Do you mind holding Harry for a bit? My arms are getting tired.”

“No problem, Lils,” said James. As soon as he had Harry in his arms, He bent down and kissed Lily. “Go to bed, Lils, I can take care of him.”

“I’m too scared to,” replied Lily. “Oh, James, what if he comes?”

“Well…” said James. “We’ll just have to knock him down.”

“No, really,” said Lily.

“I’m scared too, love,” said James. “But we have to trust Dumbledore. And the Fidelius Charm.”

“I know,” said Lily. “But I just can’t but help feel a little nervous. I’m going to go write a bit, all right?”

James nodded, and Lily walked off into an adjacent room. Alex couldn’t help himself. As soon as Lily closed the door, he opened the window, and whispered, “Lily, write down your Secret Keeper’s name.”

“W-who are you?”

Alex didn’t answer. But he stayed long enough to make sure Lily did it. If, in case something happened to them, then Sirius would still be all right. After all, Voldemort might not kill them. He shuddered as he remembered the Longbottoms; they had been tortured into insanity…it was a brutal way to go. He carefully noted where she placed her diary, and the incantation she used to lock it. He shrugged. It could come in handy.

Dobby tapped his shoulder. Harry didn’t even turn around. “Wait, Dobby, let me see them one last time.”

He gazed at Lily for the longest time, and then moved back to where James and Harry were. Alex smiled sadly. If his dad had survived…he definitely would have been loved. The way James was with his son was heartwarming and heartbreaking at the same time. This was what he had lost all those years ago.

Alex turned to Dobby. “Let’s go back, then.”

With a pop, they were gone.

********

“Well, my boy, how did it go?” asked Merlin.

“It was all right,” said Alex. “I-I saw my parents.”

“That’s good,” said Merlin. “Hopefully tomorrow you can see them again.” He turned his gaze towards the desk Alex had been using. “Now, on your desk, I’ve also placed your resume and recommendations. You worked for la Police de la Magie in Marseilles for two years after you graduated. Cribsy has also placed your uniform in your trunk. All you have to do is look over them, and then we’ll place all the books, documents, and money in your trunk. Then, we can leave.”

“We?” asked Alex.

“I’m coming with you,” said Merlin. “And Cribsy and Dobby have requested to do the same.”

Alex felt like crying. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome, Alexandre Matthieu Fitzpotter,” said Merlin.

Soon, he was ready to go. Cribsy had updated his trunk similar to Moody’s old Auror trunk. Everything fit in perfectly, and when the trunk had closed, Alex shrank it and placed it in his pocket. “I’m ready to go.”

“All right,” said Merlin. “Now, let’s go down the stairs.”

They walked out of the portrait frame, and through the library. At the outside, Alex stopped, and took a deep breath. “I-I can’t believe this is happening.”

Merlin’s eyes twinkled. “Well, it is.” His voice suddenly took a more serious tone. “At the very bottom, wait for me.”

The four of them walked down in silence. By the thousandth step, Alex was ready to stop again, until he saw a dim light at the bottom. “We’re almost there!”

“Be very light in your walking,” Merlin cautioned. “The rip in the time-space continuum is very delicate. One wrong move could upset the entire thing.”

Alex was so very tired, but he managed to tiptoe all the rest of the fifty steps down to the bottom.

“We should take a break before continuing,” said Merlin. “I brought some food.”

When Alex didn’t move to take the food, Merlin frowned. “You need all the strength you have to go through with this. And you have to fight with Voldemort again as soon as you arrive. I would take the food, if I were you.”

Relunctantly, Alex took the sandwich proffered. “Mmm…this is good!”

“I’m glad you think so,” said Merlin. “Dobby, Cribsy, feel free to eat.” The only sound they heard were the munchings of the four people around them. Alex, feeling peculiarly awkward, spoke, “Merlin, what time will we be arriving?”

“I don’t know specifically,” said Merlin. “But near whatever time you placed the Portkey on the other hand.”

“Oh, that’s fine then,” said Alex. “We arrived at four in the afternoon, and Voldemort didn’t attack until close to eight.”

“Yes, that should be fine,” said Merlin, who had, by now, finished his lunch. “Are we all ready to go?”

“Yeah.” “Yes, Sir Master Merlin, sir!” “Yes, Master Merlin!”

“All right,” said Merlin. “Now, place one foot in frame. Hold tightly to each other, and think of the Portkey on the other hand. Ready? All right, Apparate!”

With a whoosh, they were gone. The instant they were gone, the reality Alex and the house elves had inhabited collapsed on itself, and began to merge with another. It was over.