Chapter Text
The Unspeakable was paying much more attention to the speed he was walking at than he ever had before in his life. He couldn’t walk too fast or his co-workers would ask what was happening and pay him more attention, but if he walked too slow, then that would be suspicious too. It shouldn’t be so difficult to walk innocently, but when you were hyper-aware that you were absolutely not innocent, something as simple as walking became much more difficult than ever before in his life.
After the war he’d decided that he was really just done with having to deal with people, so he'd dramatically changed the direction of his life to bury himself in research as an Unspeakable in the Department of Mysteries and almost step completely out of the society around him. He had done an excellent job at losing himself in his job. He actually did so well that he hadn’t even realized the world around him had become unrecognizable and rotting from the core of society until it had been way too late.
He took in a breath and continued his walk to the lifts that would take him away from where he’d found a home and acceptance and back up into the society of hate and shame in the heart of London. He wistfully looked at the dark marble walls, very aware this was more than likely his last day as an employee of the Ministry of Magic…hell, it was probably his last day as someone who wasn’t wanted for crimes against society.
“Unspeakable Smith,” a voice called from behind him, causing his heart to pound more heavily. The man turned slowly and almost let out a whimper at the sight of the red hem of the obscuring cloak of his supervisor. He had no idea or even theories on how Supervisor Davids always recognized them on sight and was even more confused why he insisted on using their ridiculous code names when it was just the two of them in a meeting.
“Supervisor,” he gave a little nod of his hooded and obscured face. “Can I help you?”
“Before you leave,” the tall Unspeakable stepped almost uncomfortably close to his subordinate, something he was want to do to put people off their guard and make them feel a bit wrong-footed in their interactions. “I would like an update on your active project.”
The younger Unspeakable wanted to scream in frustration. His supervisor had a habit of asking for updates when least expected, and this was absolutely not the time. “I have made some moderate headway,” he explained in as neutral of a tone as he could pull off. “As you are aware, my supply has been restricted. If my test cases were fresher and more plentiful…”
“Your headway, Unspeakable Smith,” the supervisor cut him off, clearly not wanting to hear his gripes about resources and the restrictions placed on his specific area of research. Neither the ministry nor the Department of Mysteries would ever admit to the general public they had a small department…well, one person, who researched soul magic…the darkest of magics.
“I’ve extended viability of the host and there were some slight changes in responsiveness from my last test subject,” he ground out, trying to not draw attention to the pocket of his robe that he was overly aware contained an object that would clearly be highly illegal for him to step onto the lift with…or frankly even have on his person since it was not from his research.
Supervisor Davids just nodded his hooded head and reached into his own pocket. “Have you left the weekly copies of your notes for the project on my desk?
The younger Unspeakable frowned, not that anyone could see. He always left his notes for his supervisor. He’d never been late turning them in even once. It was odd he would suddenly ask. “Yes, sir…”
“Brilliant,” the man nodded again, his hand coming out of his pocket and holding a clear, but unremarkable crystal. “You will need this for your project, Unspeakable Smith. I wish you luck.”
He reached out his hand in confusion for the crystal. As soon as the crystal touched his skin, he was even more entirely confused. The crystal felt alive with swarming electric waves of magic. Unspeakables were trained to sense magic around them, but he guessed even an average wixen would be able to feel the ambient energy of this crystal. Besides the unassuming crystal being enormously magical, it was also clearly not going to help him in any of his projects. It was the lightest magic he’d ever felt in his life. He imagined a phoenix’s magic would feel similar as the lightest of all magical creatures.
“Sir…I don’t think…”
“Have a good weekend, Unspeakable Smith,” the man turned, ignoring his protest. “Your research has been groundbreaking, and you have been an asset to this department. Keep the crystal…you’ll see how it fits in soon enough.”
The younger Unspeakable slid the crystal in the opposite pocket to the other object on his person and shook his head in bemusement as he stepped through the doors of the lift when it stopped. His supervisor had always been an enigmatic drama queen in his opinion, not that he’d ever say that to the man’s face…well, hood. The lift doors closed and the Unspeakable was painfully aware that he’d officially just broken multiple laws, enough to get him sent to Azkaban for life.
With a deep breath, he forcefully let go of his tension and pushed the hood from his head, running his hand through his long, red hair before pulling a hair tie from his wrist and shoving it into a knot at the base of his neck, just wanting it out of his way and not distracting. He should just cut it, he thought for the thousandth time, even though he never did. The lift dinged and he once more took a steadying breath before stepping into the atrium.
“Ah, just the Unspeakable I could use,” a man said off to his left side, causing his heart to almost stop in alarm once more. He slowly turned and plastered as kind of a smile as he could fake onto his face as the head of the Department of Relocation and Retrieval walked up to him.
“Mr. Finch-Fletchley, how can I help you?” he held in his grimace at almost the last person on the planet he wanted to run into right then…or really ever, stopped him.
“Call me Justin, please,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “We did go to school together. I know it’s the end of the day, but we’ve run into a ward issue that we could use an Unspeakable to help with. It’s pressing and needs to be handled today.”
Not only were wards nowhere near his specialty, but he might just give everything away in his desire to crucio this monster to within an inch of his life if he had to spend any time at all with him. “I’m sorry, Mr. Finch-Fletchley…I really don’t know a lot about wards, but I can recommend someone…”
“Weasley!” Another voice called from behind him, causing him to turn and grind his teeth at literally the last person he wanted to run into…the Head Auror. And what use were their obscuring hoods anyway if people kept calling out their bloody names and title?!
“I already claimed Weasley,” Finch-Fletchley crossed his arms and frowned at the tall, well-built man that towered over the former Hufflepuff when he joined them.
“You have a ward issue,” the auror gave him an exasperated look with flinty eyes. “Collins called for you a specialist from Gringotts…that isn’t the Unspeakables’ job. I, however, do actually require the services of Weasley here.”
“You aurors,” Finch-Fletchley grumbled but did turn to head back towards the lifts. “One of these days, we won’t need you anymore…”
“I welcome the day,” the auror placed a hand on the Unspeakable’s shoulder that made him distinctly feel like he was being arrested. “For now though…you do still need us.”
The Unspeakable cleared his suddenly dry throat. “What do the aurors need my help for?” he asked in almost a rasp.
“Nothing,” the hand steered him away from the lifts and towards the doors. “Did you get it? Please tell me you did. Merlin, I almost had a stroke when Justin stopped you…It’s just your luck to run into that prat on today of all days!”
The Unspeakable’s eyes widened, and he had a moment where he both felt like it should have been blatantly obvious that Neville Longbottom would be at the center of this little orchestrated treason and also like his world had just been turned on its head that the Head Auror was plotting against the ministry. “I don’t know what you’re talking about…” was the most he could get out through the haze that had settled on his mind.
Neville snorted with no humor. “Don’t worry, Weasley. I don’t know what it is you were asked to get. None of us were told everything. There are too many legilimens around these days.”
“I still don’t know what you’re talking about,” he now stubbornly replied as they got closer to the doors to the outside world and where he could escape.
Auror Longbottom gave him a little smirk. “Fine, but please tell him now that I’ve done my part already that I’m in if he needs anything else…I’ll do whatever…there isn’t much I can do legally anymore, but he knows I’ve been wanting to leave this job behind for a very long time now…”
The Unspeakable paused…this didn’t sound like a trap. What Longbottom was saying was treason in itself, not even mentioning if he was actually part of his crazy plan. “Longbottom…” he said softly, taking a chance on the young boy he remembered from Hogwarts. “I don’t even know what’s going on…I promise.”
With a grin and a chuckle, Neville clapped him on the back fondly before a sad look settled in his eyes. “I guess that makes perfect sense…if it helps any…this was Hermione’s plan. You know she was the one that set it up so that none of us would have all the information. She was the one that initially pushed me to the head of the line of aurors…I don’t know how, but some kind of bureaucratic magic only she would have known.”
He actually hadn’t known that. He was only recently conscripted into this coup even if he’d suspected it was quietly going on for a long time now. At the stabbing pain that hit him in his heart at the mention of Hermione, he suddenly wished he’d been included much earlier. “We shouldn’t be talking about this here,” he anxiously glanced over his shoulder.
Neville rolled his eyes. “I’m the Head Auror…I have a permanent privacy ward I can activate, which I did as soon as we walked away from Finch-Fletchley,” he motioned to a bracelet that radiated a steady stream of magic that caused the Unspeakable to nod in appreciation…and definitely want one of those for himself.
“Look…my part is done,” Longbottom said quietly, even with the ward. “That means this is all coming to a head now…take care of yourself and don’t let him do anything stupid. I know this was Hermione’s plan, but we both know how Harry gets…If he’s going to listen to anyone, it’ll be you, Weasley.”
The Unspeakable gave him a short nod, wishing he’d not been as isolated from Longbottom as he had been. However, if all this had been planned by Hermione, that was probably a part of the plan as well. He’d never heard anything against Longbottom in the ministry gossip mill, causing him to believe the man was completely sold into the ministry propaganda and mission. It was genius…and also very lonely.
“I don’t know what I can do, but I’ll try. I do know how he gets very well. It was good to see you again, Neville,” he said with a little smile.
Longbottom touched his bracelet and the shimmer of magic around them dissipated. “It was good to see you again too, Percy. Don’t be a stranger…I’m only a few floors above you,” he winked before turning, his red robes flowing behind him, as he strode in long steps towards the lifts.
Percy stepped into the twilight of a winter evening feeling like he was stepping into a new world…or maybe an old one he recognized from his nightmares. This is what he remembered the war felt like, when you didn’t know who you could trust, when any day could be your last. With a sharp twist, he didn’t even pause in his apparition away from the marble building that suddenly felt exactly like a prison he was leaving.
Percy appeared expertly on the stoop of twelve Grimmauld Place and immediately opened the door without knocking. The oppressive wards felt like water as he walked through them. Thankfully he was welcomed, or it would be fire he would be trapped in until his corpse was unrecognizable instead of the uncomfortable pressure before he was standing in the gloomy entry hall.
“About time,” a tired-looking portrait commented by the door. “He’s been pacing all day and mumbling to himself. If I was alive, I’d have cursed him already.”
Percy rolled his eyes at Walburga Black. The woman had eventually given up on trying to get them out of the house and they’d come to a very tentative truce…especially when Kreacher had been killed. That had been the turning point in Walburga’s attitude. She now looked at Harry with a hard look and gave him a little nod when he walked by. Percy figured he should have realized sooner that Harry had some kind of plan to avenge the elf that he’d filled the portrait in on, but he’d been so caught up in his research in the Black library and in the Department of Mysteries…what he was using to run from his grief, that he hadn’t been paying much attention to what Harry and an old portrait had been doing.
He made his way up the familiar staircase to the room where he knew Harry would be in, and what he’d just learned to be a ritual room…he’d thought before that Harry kept the door closed since it had been Sirius’s room and there were too many memories for him to face it, but no, it was because he’d set up a highly illegal dark magic ritual and practice room…honestly, Percy couldn’t judge. He knew a lot of other things Harry was involved in, so this should have frankly been expected. His own area of research was the darkest of magics, and apparently, they were about to commit some kind of treason anyway…no, he honestly really didn’t care at this point.
Percy slowly opened the door and peeked his head into the room. Harry Potter was counting under his breath while slowly stirring a bubbling cauldron…not that anyone would recognize this man as Harry Potter anymore. It’d been a very long time since the press had caught him on camera due to come fairly illegal glamour charms and the fact he spent most of his time in the muggle world or back alleys in the wixen one now, and they probably wouldn’t even associate this man with their image of the Boy-Who-Lived if they did see him.
While the rest of them had changed more inwardly, Harry had gradually marked his internal changes externally, dramatically changing his looks from what the wixen world imagined him to be and look. His hair was longer than Percy’s at this point and in a long braid down his back liberally sprinkled with grey strands well before the grey should be there, he’d fixed his vision so no longer wore glasses, he had multiple silver piercings in his ears, eyebrow, and nose, and the tattoos had gradually been added as well. Most of the tattoos were actually runic magic for protection, focus, stability, fortitude, and many other things that Percy hadn’t fully researched. Some of the tattoos were clearly sentimental though with a silvery otter on his wrist for Hermione and a lion that Percy knew was for his youngest brother on his right ankle among many others representing those they’d lost.
He waited until Harry finished counting to step in. “I got it,” he said quietly, patting the pocket of his robes.
“Thank Merlin,” Harry closed his too green eyes and breathed out in relief. “Did anyone try to stop you?”
“I ran into Justin on the way out,” he sneered, walking over to the potions set-up. “Neville actually stepped in and got me out. You could have told me that the big, bad Head Auror was actually in on all this,” he gave the man a withering look from the other side of the steaming cauldron.
“Need to know,” Harry mumbled but also gave him a little sheepish shrug. “Forgive me?”
With a sigh, Percy shook his head, a fond smile on his face. He never could hold onto any anger with Harry, hadn’t been able to for a very long time. “I suppose everything and all the compartmentalization makes sense now that Neville let it slip that this was all Hermione’s plan…you at least could have told me that. And if you say, ‘need to know’ again, then I’m sleeping in the guest room and your cold feet can just suffer.”
“Prat,” the man grinned at him before walking around the table and pulling him into a kiss that still startled and excited him each and every time.
Their very confusing relationship had started when Percy had stayed over to make sure Harry wasn’t giving into his grief after the latest major tragedy a few years ago, then he needed to make sure that Harry got out of bed and ate, then there was the Black library with all the wonderful literature on soul magic in it, then Harry had taken to sitting with him and asking about his day, then he’d just never left…eventually, somehow, he’d been relocated from the guestroom to Harry’s room and they’d never gone back. They’d never really defined anything, but Percy was positive that didn’t matter to either of them in the slightest at this point anyway.
“Hey…” Percy put his hands on either side of Harry’s neck and looked into his eyes, seeing the pain as he did every time they were close. “How dangerous is all this? It’s time to actually tell me. No more ‘need to know’ no more compartmentalizing information. We’re in this together…I know I wasn’t very helpful there for a while…”
“We all grieve differently,” Harry shook his head, putting his hand on top of Percy’s. “You got me through my grief, and it took a while for you to face your own. You were there when I needed you to physically pull me out of bed, and you needed me there for you to just sit with you in the library…you didn’t need to be in on the plans, not when it all hit…”
“It’s time now though,” he insisted steadfastly. “Yes, you got me through Hermione’s death and what h-happened to Ron…Now, I’m here for you…Since I stole this from the Time Room, I’m assuming all this has something to do with time-travel…?”
Percy took the vial of time-dust from his pocket and placed in on the table beside them. “There’s enough in there for three time-turners, but I still don’t see how that’s going to help us at all…even if you could get it to work together without a physical time-turner that would hold it, that would still only be about a day you could go back.”
Harry’s face lightened up into a genuine smile at him, making Percy not regret for a minute that he’d just thrown away his entire career for a vial of sand. “That’s the point of this potion and the artifacts I’ve had to track down, repair, and the runes all over the floor.”
“That’s not for aesthetics?” Percy smirked at the ritual circle with scribbled runes that took up most of the room. “I thought you were just a shit decorator.”
“Ha, ha…though I am that as well,” Harry deadpanned and shrugged his braid back over his shoulder before rolling up his sleeves, baring many more runes and spidery lines. “Merlin, some days…most days, I wish Snape had lived. I’m sure he’d have taken Hermione’s plan and figured it all out months before I did…I found her notebook in her desk, but even then, it took me weeks to slightly work out the basis of what she’d been doing. She put all this into motion years ago though…right after Teddy was taken…”
Harry’s step faltered and his eyes glazed over. “Hey…” Percy put a hand on Harry’s hip, trying to bring him back to reality. Sometimes without warning his brain would disassociate, usually when he said something without thinking that pulled the trauma right back to the forefront of his brain. Percy had seen Harry stuck this way for hours before and only hoped this time wasn’t as bad as those.
“Hey, come back to me,” he rubbed circles on Harry’s back and tried to get him to focus back in. “Don’t leave me now…you have a lot of explaining to do…months and months of planning without me. Come on, what would Snape have done? Tell me.”
Harry slowly blinked as his eyes focused slightly back in. He reached a hand up and touched the small silver bar he had through his right eyebrow. This caused him to take in a steadying breath. Percy just smiled at him kindly. He’d noticed that it helped Harry to touch something that was different about him than from when the trauma had happened, something that reminded him that time had moved forward. Personally, he believed it was why Harry had changed his appearance so much so that he would have those reminders that he was different, that time had progressed.
“Sorry about that,” Harry shook his head and gave Percy an apologetic smile. “Erm…right…the potion. Yeah, so Snape could have figured it out ages ago…”
Percy stepped back and let Harry move forward like he hadn’t just gone catatonic for a minute, pretending that nothing had happened. “Even so, I think he might actually be proud of what I’ve done…not that he’d ever say that on pain of dismemberment,” Harry motioned to the now purplish colored gloop in the cauldron.
“It was the artifacts that were bloody difficult to collect though, and that was partially my own bloody fault in not keeping the ones I had already found for a rainy day,” he grumbled as he motioned to his old invisibility cloak that surprisingly had an interesting-looking wand on top of it and a cracked black stone. “I had to track down a tiny, black stone in a forest and do a bit of grave-robbing for the wand…Dumbledore won’t mind though, or at least he’d better not…anyway, not his problem anymore.”
“Ok…so if we say that I actually follow any of this,” Percy sighed, sitting on the stool over in the corner of the room. “I’m getting the idea that the time-dust will interact in some way with all these objects, runes, and potions and that something time-related will happen. Are we talking time-travel or dimension travel?”
“It never gets old just how smart you are,” Harry grinned at him as he bottled the purple potion. “Yes, we’re talking time-travel. Without getting into specifics, it’s an old ritual that Hermione found in a book in the Black library…which I think might be bound in human skin…not going to think about that…”
Percy shuddered. “Right…so we’re definitely talking dark magic then? Can I be of any help?”
“Actually, it has to be an infusion of pure light and dark magic within three vessels each,” Harry patted the objects on his cloak. “Thankfully, I knew where to find some items of pure dark magic…actually, figured that one out on my own and am quite proud of it, but the light magic was a bit more difficult. It was bloody difficult to convince a unicorn to stay and listen to me instead of running away like I was the devil himself, but I did finally get some freely given unicorn hair. That was the hold-up along with finding a couple more pure light items since people wouldn’t really work for the ritual. I don’t know anyone at this point whose core is completely light anyway…not after everything…”
Percy winced. He was well aware that his core was extremely dark after all his work in soul magic, and with the little he knew Harry had been up to, he was certain his (sort-of) boyfriend’s core was even darker than his own. “Yeah…I can only imagine what Mum would say if she saw us now…”
Molly Weasley had thankfully died of a bad case of dragon pox before Ron had been taken. She would not have survived losing Fred, Ron, and Hermione or even Bill, Fleur, and Victoire moving off to America to escape what was happening. Arthur was a shell of himself, but he was doing his best to hold his remaining family together. Most days that meant just making sure George was surviving and that Ginny hadn’t self-destructed yet.
“Riiight…” Harry didn’t meet his eyes.
Percy was suspicious. Was he planning to see Molly Weasley again? “Just how far back are you planning to go, Harry? No one has gone back more than a few days, but it’d take years to make a difference in this mess. Even if you did, what would you do? This wasn’t one person like Voldemort, this was society, this was the ministry, it was fear.”
Harry walked over and leaned into Percy, putting their foreheads together, breath mingling. “I’m going back as far as I absolutely can…I think I have enough power personally to make it about six years.”
Percy’s brain seemed to skid to a stop before he even tried to process that impossibility. It was easy math, Harry was 27, so that would put him at 21…it was before things had gotten really bad, but they’d still lost people before then…they’d lost Teddy before then even if it’d taken them years to actually figure out what happened…Percy held still as Harry’s fingernail traced up and down his neck. It was clear this was goodbye…well, the hell with that!
“So, since we’re going together, that means we can go back twelve years then,” he put a hand over Harry’s and stilled it.
“No…”
“No, you listen to me, Harry Potter,” he pulled the man even closer to him. Whatever crazy, suicidal plan this was, he was in. Harry was absolutely not doing this alone. “There is no way I’m letting you leave me here alone…if it’s dimensional travel, then I’ll be here without you and never see you again. If it’s time-travel, then we’ll still never be together. You know I wouldn’t have just moved in and made myself a part of your life without everything that happened…plus, who is going to stop you getting stuck in your head if I’m not there, huh? You will not be leaving me!”
“It’s too dangerous…” he protested with a firm shake of his head. “It’s time-travel, not dimensional, which will bring even more risk…I also don’t know if I’ll end up in my younger body or if there will suddenly be two Harrys which causes even more problems and risk.”
“Like I fucking care if I live through this if I don’t have you!” He growled, holding tightly to the strong shoulders of the man in his arms like a lifeline. Harry was literally the only good thing in his life anymore. He didn’t bloody care what they were to each other, they were all each other had, Harry was his home, and he was not giving that up without a fight.
“If one person can go back six years, then double the magic and let’s go back twelve! You’ll be fifteen and I’ll be nineteen, and it’ll be before we lost them all. Whatever your…or Hermione’s plan was going to be, it has to be even more effective if we get there earlier…more time has to be better than less. Plus, I was working for Fudge at nineteen...that would put me at the heart of the ministry. I can be useful.”
Harry closed his eyes and let out a breath. “Hermione didn’t have a plan; she didn’t get that far before she was killed in the raid, or at least she didn’t write it down…I can’t ask you to be a part of what I’m going to do. This is asking too much of anyone.”
“Would it still work if you were fifteen?” Percy just raised an eyebrow and pushed forward. “Because whether I’m going or not is no longer in question. You can bloody well just get over that. The question is now if we need to temper our magic to not go back as far or if we should try for the furthest distance back possible. So, what is this plan? What do you want to do to change the world?”
Harry looked him deeply in the eyes and Percy knew that whatever he was about to say would probably be the most insane thing he’d ever heard in his life…and that he was in whatever it was. “Being fifteen may make it a little more difficult, but it can be done…if we can save Teddy…”
“What are we doing, Harry?” Percy asked again, putting as much stress as possible into the ‘we.’
With a sigh Harry broke eye contact and turned to pick up the potion. “Percy…I will be becoming the next Dark Lord.”
Percy was positive he’d heard that wrong…no that’s what Harry had said… “Excuse me…isn’t there another one of those gallivanting around about then?” Percy coughed out. “He might take a bit of offense to being dethroned.”
Harry shrugged and gave him a wicked smile. “Oh, love…do you really imagine I give a gnat’s arse about what offends dear old Voldy? It’s frankly Dumbledore we should be more worried about.”
“Right…so, we’re planning to wreak was much havoc as possible until we’re taken out by Dumbledore, Voldemort, the Ministry, or the Order…that sounds like a Harry Potter plan,” Percy nodded and sat back down on his stool to watch the preparations happening around him. It was insane, and they probably wouldn’t live through it, but he decided it was better than the doing nothing they were currently stuck in.
“Ideally, we wouldn’t be taken out…at least not until we actually change things,” Harry rolled his eyes and rummaged around in a box for the unicorn hair.
“Do you actually have a plan for how to do that?” He sighed, not being very optimistic that a plan existed.
“Er…sort-of…” Harry grimaced some. “I’m not sure when exactly we’ll actually end up, and that changes things a bit. Plus, now that I’m going back six more years than the original plan, that puts most of my initial plans in disarray…especially since Voldy and Dumbles are still alive.”
“Is there any reason why we need to do this right now?” Percy asked next when he’d deduced that Harry was in-fact planning on them traveling back in time that very evening from the activities going on around him. Suddenly, he had the passing thought that he should possibly shower and put on clean pants if they were going on a trip, especially if he were about to see his mum again.
“I’m sure the time-dust will be missed…plus, Neville’s part will also not go unnoticed,” Harry looked up at him and gave a grin that Percy had come to be a bit afraid of. “The runes aren’t drawn in charcoal…they’re drawn in the ashes of a dementor…Nev is super hardcore, and I wish I’d known to tell him that when he was eleven and doubting himself,” Harry chuckled. "Remind me to tell him when we see him in the past."
Percy’s eyes widened at the dark drawings on the floor that he’d felt dark magic bleeding from but which he’d assumed was from the runes themselves. He’d taken Ancient Runes in school, but their usage in dark magic was not in the scope of his studies, that was all Harry. “Bloody hell…yeah, I think Azkaban will be missing one of its guards eventually…”
“Yep, and any legilimens worth the title will tie it all back to me once they interrogate Nev…he knows that and is prepared. Hopefully we live through the spell and can make sure he’ll never have to go through that, but well…his days are numbered and mine are too before I’m Undesirable Number One again,” Harry explained, a hard, blank look in his eyes. “Personally, I’d like to leave this time before I have aurors trying to break through my wards or a friend is tortured.”
“Right, so we go back in time and plan when we get there,” Percy agreed and stood to take off his work robes to leave just his slacks and a t-shirt, showing off his Unspeakable mark on his wrist. “What can I do? Do you know if we’ll be able to take anything with us? I can pack us some bags.”
“Nope, we’ll probably end up starkers when we arrive if we don’t just meld with our younger bodies,” the man was now dripping some of the purple potion between the runes on the floor, causing them to glow an eerie dark glow.
“So, no taking funds with us…or wands…or books,” Percy was deeply frowning, not liking that one bit.
“We’ll have the library still when we go back, we might just have to sneak around Sirius to get into it…” Harry’s eyes slightly dazed, but he shook his head and kept going instead of sinking into his mind. “There is a crystal in the box over there that had the unicorn hair in it, would you find it for me? It’s the light match to the resurrection stone. I paid almost half my vault for that in Knockturn Alley. Bloody black market prices! I know, hypocritical, since I’m a dealer myself, but still…”
Percy pulled a clear crystal out of the box and frowned deeply at it. It was radiating magic, but it was a light grey haze…it was definitely not pure light magic. He knew Harry could sense magic, but light magic was absolutely not his specialty at all, and he hadn’t been trained like Percy had with the Unspeakables. “What’s this supposed to be, Harry?”
“It’s a seer crystal, said to be given by Mother Magic herself to the world. Those with the Sight can connect as one to the magic of the world,” Harry stood up and stretched his back. “I most assuredly do NOT have the Sight, but it is an object of pure light to balance the dark of the other stone.”
“Yeah…you got scammed love,” Percy grimaced, feeling terrible as Harry’s face fell dramatically.
“No…we can’t do the spell without a match to the resurrection stone…” the man sank down dejectedly, clutching his chest, breaths coming short. “I’ll kill Aiken! He knows not to scam me!”
“Wait…” Percy frowned and walked over to his robes, feeling his pockets until he pulled out the clear crystal his supervisor had given him not hours ago. “Is this what you need?”
“Why in Merlin’s name did you just happen to have a seer crystal on you?” Harry jumped up and rushed over to take the stone. “This does feel a little different than the other. Merlin, you’re amazing!”
“You haven’t been trained to feel magic like I have, and if you don’t have the Sight…well, it’s an easy scam,” he squeezed Harry’s arm to show him that it wasn’t his fault. “Honestly, your friend Aiken might not have known himself. As for why I have it…I really don’t know. Supervisor Davids handed it to me on my way out of the ministry earlier. He said I’d need it…wait…you think he might be a seer?”
“That would mean he would know what we’re doing,” Harry stopped mid-turn from where he’d been heading back to the runes. “What did he say to you besides that you’d need it?”
“He just said something about my work for the department being good and wished me luck…” his eyes narrowed as that flippant sentence seemed much more laden now. “Bloody hell…”
“You always said your supervisor seemed to already know what was going on before you told him,” Harry shook his head and continued setting up. It wasn’t like there was anything they could do about it at the moment anyway.
Percy saw the ritual start to take shape as the invisibility cloak was laid on a rune with the unicorn hair, the resurrection stone was laid with the seer crystal, then Harry put down the wand. “What matches the elder wand?” Percy asked, not surprised at all that Harry had thought to track down the Deathly Hallows when he read that they would need dark objects. Personally, he had a sneaky suspicion that Harry might actually be classified as the Master of Death, whatever that meant.
With a deep sigh, Harry pulled his own wand out of his pocket before Percy cried out at the sharp snap when he broke it. “Why did you do that?” He gasped, only catching on when Harry gave a tired sigh and pulled a long phoenix tail feather from the core of the wand.
“A phoenix tail-feather from a wand that was mended by the elder wand,” Harry sadly placed the feather across the death wand. “You said we couldn’t take our wands back…I’m really hoping I’ll be young Harry when we get back and will already have it on me, if not, we’ll have to get new wands anyway.”
“We’ll need to get new wands regardless,” Percy put his wand on the workbench with a sad, parting look at it. “Wands grow with you over time, and we’ve progressed past our old wands at this point. If we end up in our younger bodies, we’ll probably still need to get a new wand and use our old ones as back-ups maybe. Mine would probably completely revolt the first time I cast anything dark. Yours had a light core...no telling what it would do if you tried to cast with it back years ago with your core the way it is now.”
Harry grimaced. “Well…one more thing on the to-do list.”
“Yeah…the list that currently reads: don’t die, solve Voldemort issue, establish a following, overthrow the ministry, don’t die again,” Percy trailed off with a shake of his head. “Try not to have complete meltdowns every time we see someone we’ve lost…”
“Merlin…I’m not the person that should be doing this,” Harry sat back down on the floor and wrapped his arms around his knees. “I’m not going to be able to hold it together. Neville should have been the one…”
“That’s why we’re going together,” Percy walked over and physically pulled him back up to standing. “You don’t have to do it alone, and you know that, while Neville is apparently a dangerous badass, you are the only one of us that actually fulfills the whole Dark Lord requirements.”
Harry snorted. “Unintentionally…it’s not my fault that dying turned my core dark…probably the Hallows as well.”
“Reading almost everything in the Black library was a bit more intentional though,” Percy kissed the top of his head with a smile. “Now…if we’re going to do this, let’s just do it. I’m more concerned about the Unspeakables coming after us than the aurors since Supervisor Davids apparently knows what we’re doing.”
“Eh…he seems to approve at least,” Harry shrugged but still picked up his silver knife and sliced a gash in his palm. “You want to do it, or you want me to?” He held out the knife to Percy.
“Are there like a thousand elements to this ritual?” He grumbled, picking up a clean knife instead and slicing his own palm with a wince.
“You have no idea…I’ve been putting this together for over a year,” Harry dripped three drops of blood in the middle of the circle. “You next…this is the time to back out if you want. You’re committed once you add the blood.”
With an eyeroll Percy added three drops of his own blood to the middle of the circle. “I have a feeling I was committed from the day I moved in here after Ron was taken.”
“See you on the other side then,” Harry gave him a quick kiss before unfolding a parchment with a very long spell in Latin on it and began to chant.
He couldn’t breathe…it felt like all the air was forced from his lungs and he was being crushed in a vise. Then, he was too large, he was stretched over all space and time. He had no body. Was his soul anchored to anything anymore? Then…there was nothing, no thoughts, no feelings, nothing. With a painful crash, he finally drew in a deep, painful breath and clutched at his suddenly solid once again chest. “Bloody hell,” he groaned and rolled over on a bed he didn’t remember getting into.