Godric's Hollow

31 Oct 1981

Approximately 8pm

At the end of a deserted lane, a figure appeared out of thin air with no sound what so ever. The figure was wearing a grey cloak that covered it from head to toe. The figure even wore gloves to cover the hands. The person's height appeared to be around average, along with the build. The hood covering the head made it very unlikely that their face would be seen in the darkness.

Looking around to make sure that no one had noticed its arrival, the cloaked figure quickly set off down the down the path towards the next intersection. Arriving at the intersection, the figure turned right and headed down the street.

As the figure headed down the street with a purpose, the grey cloaked figure thought about all that had happened over the course of the last eight days since they had arrived back in time from the future. With a heavy sigh, the figure increased its pace toward a very special destination as the memories of the past days washed over it.

Begin Flashback:

The war had been going on for almost a decade and a half, with the light side taking grievous losses. By the time that the ritual to send one person back in time to hopefully set things right, those few that still fought for freedom were down to just a handful of battle hardened people. Everyone that was left was scarred in some way as they had lost friends, family and loved ones. Lots had been drawn to determine who would be the one to head back and hopefully end the war before it could even begin.

As the ritual reached its zenith with the one chosen at its center, their time had run out. They had known that there was a traitor amongst them, but did not know exactly who it was. Only those that were considered above reproach had been selected for the ritual. The traitor had finally given their lord and master the place and time of where the rebels and traitors were to gather and the Dark Lord had struck with a vengeance.

Those that were still loyal to the light but had not been chosen for the ritual had fought to the last in order to give the people performing the ritual the needed time to complete it. For every inch of ground the Death Eaters and Voldemort had gained had to be purchased in blood and lives. Voldemort cared not for those that died in his service, only that his nemesis Harry Potter and those that stood by him died.

The last thing that the cloak wearing person had seen before a blinding light had engulfed them was the door to the chamber being blown off its hinges and slamming into the spell shield that separated those participating in ritual and those that were the last line of defense. Standing tall in the doorway was the Dark Lord himself with the now exposed traitor next to him. It was a scene that would be burned in to the cloak wearing person's mind until they died.

The next thing that they knew was that they had landed exactly where they were supposed to be, in a deserted clothing store in Diagon Alley. The only thing that was unexpected was landing naked as the day they were born. Not exactly the landing that they had been hoping for, but it would do.

Gathering their wits, the person from the future quickly gathered some clothes together, including a grey cloak with a hood. Once clothed and some quick charm work, the new clothes fit them. With a quick breath, they moved to the front of the deserted store and looked out to make sure that the Alley was free of people.

Exiting the store stealthily, the person from the future moved down the Alley towards the only building that had yet to be touched by the war that was currently happening. It was a large white marble structure and possibly the only true and square building in Diagon Alley. It was the goblin run magical back known as Gringotts.

Making time down the Alley without attracting any attention, the grey cloak wearing person made it to the steps of the bank. Upon reaching the steps, they were stopped by the four armor wearing goblin guards. From past experience, they knew that the weapons and armor worn by the door guards was far from being ceremonial. It was in fact very functional and designed to take on magical folks and creatures.

"Stop where you are," growled one of the guards. He had to be leader of this group since his armor was of a better quality than his brothers and he was a bit taller than his mates. "The bank is closed. Come back in the morning, human, and you can do your business then."

"Under convention 15 of the Shadow Proclamation," began the cloaked person in a rough voice, "I seek audience with the leader of the Goblin Nation and the director of this bank."

"There is no such Proclamation," growled the now slightly angered lead goblin. "Leave now or die."

The other three security goblins readied for magical combat.

The hooded person just laughed roughly at the site before them and again repeated the saying. Only this time it was in the goblin's native language. This surprised the guards, since most magical people refused to learn how to speak other languages other than their native tongue.

"Wait here and do not move," the leader growled.

Tapping a rune on the side of the doors, the lead guard spoke into it. The reply was prompt. With a shake of his head, the leader turned to the cloaked person and seemed to be appraising them.

"Lower your hood and you may enter."

"As you know and have been told, I do not have to either identify myself or lower my hood while under the protection of the Shadow Proclamation. So open the door and let me enter."

With a growl, the leader signaled the others to open the doors and let the person from the future through. Just as the person passed him, he hissed out, "Remember, when you come out, you will not be under the protection anymore."

The time traveler turned their shrouded head to the goblin as they paused for a moment. With a snort and a dismissive gesture, they entered the bank and let the doors close behind them. Once inside, the gray cloaked person was confronted by several armed security goblins holding swords and spears leveled at them.

"As I stated outside," the rough voiced time traveler said with a sigh while raising their hands, "while under the protection of the Shadow Proclamation, I can not be harmed, but I am allowed to defend myself from harm."

The silence that followed this rasped statement quickly grew thick and heavy with tension.

"Shall we dance then?"

And suddenly every one of the security goblins, those that were still working behind the bank counters, felt a pressure wave of magic rolling off of the cloak wearing person. Danger and sudden violence filled the air. The older goblins in the room were reminded of a time when a well trained magical human was a match for several of them at one time.

From the very back of the large bank floor sudden laughter broke the tension.

"Well played," growled a deep voice.

At this, the goblins parted except those that were forming the security all. A taller than average goblin was revealed. Well muscled and garbed in some of the most expensive clothes the hooded person had ever seen, this was the leader of the Goblin nation..

"But," the laughter and welcome had faded from the goblin's voice, "the question remains, why have you enacted the Shadow Proclamation and its protections?"

"Warlord Ragnarok," greeted the time traveler, "I enacted the protections not for my protection, but yours."

A loud cry went up among the goblins that were in the room at that time. Silence was eventually restored after Ragnarok banged an axe that had appeared in his hands on the marble floor.

"And why would we," shouted the very angry leader of the goblins shouted, "need these protections?"

"In one of your vaults that is controlled by one of the terrorists known as Death Eaters lies a crime against nature and a proscribed item. It is also a violation of the Goblin-Wizard Accord of 493, which states that nothing of a necromantic nature may be stored within the hallowed vaults of Gringotts. Look for a golden cup with a stylized H on it."

This brought shocked silence for those gathered on the main floor of the goblin run bank. Finally, after several moments, the well dressed goblin leader hissed out his angry instructions to find this proscribed item and bring it him for inspection. If this was true, then this human would have them over the proverbial barrel. The room seemed frozen in time as everyone waited for the completion of the search.

Surprisingly, it only took about fifteen minutes for the searching goblins to return to the main bank floor with item in question. Once it was presented to Ragnarok, everyone could feel the wrongness of it and with dawning horror, just how much trouble they were in if this news ever passed the walls of the bank.

With narrowed eyes, Ragnarok studied the human before him. He finally ground out a very relevant question.

"What would it take to buy your silence?"

"You mean besides my death? Your help in collecting the rest of those foul things and a little help making some money for both myself and your nation as a whole."

A gasp ran through warrior race.

"Yes," stated the gray cloaked human. "There are a total of four more that have to collected before the creator of them can be destroyed. Now, shall we adjourn to a more private setting, Warlord Ragnarok?"

End Flashback

The cloak wearing time traveler was brought out their memories by reaching the end of the street and stopping to take a look around to get their bearings. Looking both directions, they decided to go left since that was where the half remembered directions told them to go.

Even at this time of the night there should have been some revelers out and about celebrating All Hollow's Eve. But there was no one. Deciding to pick up the pace, the grey cloak started to lift from the ground revealing some heavy leather boots that had seen better days.

Falling back into their memories, the battered cloaked person continued to review the last several days leading up tonight.

Begin Flashback:

Once everyone was sitting comfortably around a large conference table, the foul cup was placed in the middle of the table. The group included Ragnarok, two of his most trusted advisors, some guards and the hooded time traveler.

With the necromantic item placed between them, the weary time traveler opened the discussion.

"As you can see from the cup in front of you, a great violation of nature has occurred. And yes, this one and the others that you will be helping me to find belong to the one called Voldemort, AKA Tom Marvolo Riddle, the last of the Slytherin and Gaunt family lines."

This revelation caused a few gasps, narrowed eyes and some growls.

"And you know this how," growled the leader of the Goblin Nation.

The hooded human just let out a rasping laugh and responded once they had calmed down.

"That is something that we will be covering during these negotiations. Now let's get started shall we, since time is money as they say."

Having one of their main rules tossed back at them most defiantly did not endear the hooded one to them anymore than they already were.

"For openers," the hooded time traveler started, "as I stated in the main hall, I need your help in getting the rest of these items and destroying them. In exchange for not spilling that you are holding a violation of one of the treaties between our kind, I will take your help for free. And all of these have to collected before All Hollow's Eve."

"Outrageous," howled one of Ragnarok's assistants. "The costs alone in time and manpower would be astronomical. You will pay the going rate plus fifty percent."

"You are forgetting, honorable war leader, that I could just let this slip to the general magical public that your vaunted protections allowed a proscribed item to enter your realm. I will forgo the demand of free and up it to five galleons per day per individual actually present at each site and involved."

What followed after that statement was a demonstration of skill and sheer determination on both sides of the table. The agreement that was finally reached called for the cloak wearing person to cover the cost of the retrieval of the soul anchors, but it would be done at a little less than cost. Neither side was really happy with the deal, but they could live with it.

"Now," stated the cloaked human after taking a sip of water, "I suppose that you are wondering how I am going to pay for all of this and where the items are located. Those are easy to do.

"First of all, according to the Wizard-Goblin treaty of 1732, any one that belongs to an organization that has a stated goal of removing the Goblin Nation from the realm of the living or enslave them as a whole, then their vaults are forfeit immediately. I can and will give you a list of marked Death Eaters and their unmarked supporters. I think that you will find that will be more than enough to cover the costs of this operation.

"Secondly, I know where each of these cursed items are located and how to retrieve them. I will provide your teams with a detailed list of the wards and traps that are in place at the locations that I need your help with. There is one that I will need to gather personally, so will not need your help with that one."

"Sounds like," growled one of the seated Goblin advisors, "that you really don't need our help at all and that you are doing this just to show us how superior that you think that you are."

A harsh laugh followed the Goblin's statement.

"Nothing could be further from the truth," rasped the time traveler. "The Goblins are known for their warding and curse breaking abilities. Even though I know the ward schemes of each of the locations and how to by pass them does not mean that I can do this by myself. Plus, I thought you would have figured out why I am doing this in the first place by now. I guess not."

The verbally slapped advisor let out a howling growl and would have charged across the table if Ragnarok had not grabbed him and held him in place. With a cuff upside the head, the Goblin War Leader turned his glare to the cloaked human.

"Stop baiting my subordinates," he growled. "I know why you are doing this. I may not really like it, but I know why."

Inside the concealing hood, the scarred face of the time traveler smiled.

"Good. As a show of good faith, might I borrow a Goblin memory holder?"

With narrowed eyes, the leader of the Goblin Hoard had asked why he wanted one and how did they know about them in the first place. The scarred human had simply laughed then dropped a bombshell.

"I know about them because you told me about them."

This had caused the seated and standing Goblins to gasp and wear shocked looks.

"What do you mean," hissed Ragnarok dangerously, "that I told you about them?"

"I thought you would have figured it out by now," the cloak wearing human said with their shoulders shaking in mirth. "I guess not. I know what I know because I am not from this time. If you would hand me a memory holder, I have a memory that I am to give to you. It is from your future self.

With a snap of his long fingers, the War Leader made a small crystal ball appear. A gloved hand had reached out for it. With some trepidation, it had been handed over. A raised finger had withdrawn a long strand of a milky white substance. Once extracted, it had been placed in the crystal ball and handed back to Ragnarok.

With narrowed eyes, the head goblin had looked between the now filled ball and the cloaked person from the future. The unspoken question had been obvious.

"No, I have not looked at the memory. I even took an oath not to. Besides it was spoken in a tongue that only you would understand, according to you."

With a nod of his, the great goblin had place the crystal on his forehead and closed his eyes. The milky mist inside swirled for a moment then vanished into Ragnarok's mind. After another few moments, he had lowered his hand and placed the now empty ball on the table before him.

With suddenly sad eyes, the elder goblin statesman had looked over at the patient human that graced his halls. A nod of understanding had been exchanged between them.

"Everything that this human," the warlord had said heavily, "is true. I have just been given a memory from myself from the future. And yes, I know it was from a future version of myself. Words were spoken that only I would know."

He had said this to the room at large. With coal black eyes boring into the darken cowl, he had continued.

"We will help you with what you desire to accomplish and need to do. You have proven yourself to me. But do not think that this gives you free reign, it doesn't. Just a lot of leeway."

The time traveling wizard had simply nodded its head and then asked for permission to call a house elf. Once that had been given, they had called an aged surly house elf that had been very insulting until the hateful being had been reminded about a former master that had died trying to take down the one known as the Dark Lord. After that, it had been quite helpful.

With a quick command, a silver locket had been retrieved and placed on the table next to the cup. A question had been asked to the more cooperative house elf about acquiring a certain leather bound slightly sentient book from a well warded manor. The aged creature said that he would retrieve it, but that it would take a day or two to get it. The cloaked human had agreed to the time frame and had mentioned that he needed it before the 30th of October. The elf had agreed and popped away.

End of Flashback

The scarred traveler was brought out of their remembrances by reaching the center square of the village. Pausing in the concealing shadows, the cloaked figure took a good look around to make sure that no one was lying in wait for an unwary traveler. Using senses honed through a life time of life or death situations, they made sure that the coast was clear.

Moving quickly through the square, the figure paused only for a moment to stare at the statue that was placed at the center of a small park. It was a monument to those that had died from village during wartime. There was a long list of names. There was also a magical side to the statue that laid out the names of the magicals who had also given their all in defense of the realm.

With a heavy sigh, the cloaked individual quickly moved on. Looking around, the person in motion tried to burn the peaceful village as it currently looked into its memory. The village and especially the memorial had been destroyed by the Dark Lord early in the war. It had been a reminder that Voldemort was an absolute ruler and nothing could be left to remind the masses of hope.

After crossing the square, the figure fell back into their memories.

Start of flashback

Ragnarok had looked at the two abominations that had graced the table for a long moment, then had returned his gaze to the cloaked human.

"With how quickly," he had grounded out, "you have retrieved these two … things, one has to wonder exactly why you have brought this my attention."

"As I have said," started the time traveler, "I need your expertise handling these things. It's that simple. Now, the locations of the rest of them is as follows: Rowena's Diadem is currently at Hogwarts. A ring is secured in a shack near Little Hangleton. The final piece is Voldemort himself."

Asking for and receiving some parchment, the grey cloaked human had quickly sketched out the wards and traps that were active at the shack in Little Hangleton. They had then handed the drawing to the leader of the Goblin Nation. Aged goblin, along with his assistants, whistled at the complex scheme that had been laid out.

"This will take some time to break," commented the one on the right.

"You have six days," rasped the time displaced human and continued before they could be interrupted. "The reason for the deadline is that I know where the one who calls himself lord will be on the 31st. Once past that date, it becomes speculation as to where he will be."

"Fine," Ragnarok stated. "It will be done in that time frame. How do you propose to acquire the one at Hogwarts?"

"Easy," grinned the hooded person, even though no one could see it. "I would like to hire a team of Curse Breakers to break the curse that appears to be on the Defense against the Dark Arts position and classroom. I am doing this as a concerned parent."

Ragnarok and his subordinates had started to chuckle at that.

"And while the team is working on that and keeping Dumbledore and his lapdogs busy," Ragnarok had said while chuckling, "you will be leading another team to the abomination's hiding place."

The hooded one had just nodded its head at this.

"Good. Now, is there anything else that you want to discuss?"

"Actually, yes, there is."

A quick scribble on some more borrowed parchment and a drop of blood led to some more time consuming discussions on vaults and investments in both the magical and muggle worlds.

"Anything else," groused the lead goblin.

"Not right now," rasped the future person. "Shall we head to Hogwarts in the morning, say around 10 am?"

With accepting nods all around, the meeting had quickly closed with the cloak wearing human saying that they would be staying at the Leaky Cauldron for the rest of the night. Bidding Ragnarok a good evening, the person from the future had left the Goblin run bank and had headed to the inn.

The following day had gone off without a hitch, just like they had expected. The curse had been broken on the DADA position and classroom, much to the objection of Dumbledore. The Diadem had also been retrieved without incident, although the goblins that had gone with the time traveler had been able to acquire some of the hiding spot's more valuable items as a bonus for themselves.

The next day had seen the delivery of the book from the Malfoy residence. The cranky old house elf that had delivered had been very happy to see it done. The human time traveler had knelt down so they had been eye level and had heartily thanked the aged elf for his help and promised that as soon as the final one was collected, they would be destroyed. It had been a very happy house elf that had left.

The next two days had been a long waiting game and a test of patience on both sides as the ring and its wards were proving to be very stubborn to break. One curse breaker had already been badly injured in the process. It had been very slow going.

In the early afternoon of the fourth day of the time traveler's journey, the goblin team had finally broken all of the wards and enchantments surrounding the ring. The team of professionals had also remembered the warning about the compulsion to put the ring on and had taken steps to prevent anyone from putting it on.

It had been a very happy group of goblins and a tired human when the ring had been presented to them. With the collection of the ring, all of the soul pieces had been gathered. Everyone that had been in the meeting room had moved to a room that was covered in runes and glowed slightly. After a long and dangerous ritual that had involved a sacrificial animal, the various pieces of Tom Riddle's soul had been forced out of their containers and moved into the animal. The animal had then been sacrificed to the gods that the Goblins had worshipped. The hooded had shuddered when the sacrifice had been accepted. The bulk of Tom Riddle's soul had been sent to an afterlife that was not to its liking.

Once back in the meeting room, the scarred person from the future had had Ragnarok write down a long list of names in two columns. One listed those who could be trusted, the other those that needed to be dealt with. Another listed a long list of dirty laundry and possible crimes that several people had committed to date. It included such persons as Dumbledore, Crouch, Bagnold, Fudge and a certain toad like person.

After looking at the lists, the leader of the Goblin nation had asked a question.

"Why are these lists being written out by myself instead of you?"

The time displaced person had laughed their now expected trademark harsh laugh and given a kind of answer.

"It has been said that anything that I would write down would vanish once I accomplish what I came here to do. So for it to become part of the time stream, someone who is of the correct time period would have to do it. And as of right now, the only person that I trust is you, my friend.

"Now for some final business," rasped the cloaked person. "Here is a parchment that is tied to my magic. One of two things will happen on the 31st. One, if I do succeed, then this will slowly fade out. If I fail, then is will turn black. If it turns black, I would like to you send a war team to this address and retrieve any and all survivors. Also, make sure that this family's Will is carried out."

A gloved hand had handed over a piece of regular muggle paper with an address written on it. Ragnarok had promptly copied it down on some parchment.

"It will be done," ground out the aged leader of the Goblin Nation.

The supreme goblin had then slid a wrapped package across the table. A gloved hand had picked it up and with feeling the weight of it had simply nodded its head in acknowledgement.

"Might I trouble you for one more memory holder?"

With a shrewd look, the aged head goblin had paused for a moment then had produced one. Again a raised finger pulled a long strand of milky substance from under the concealing hood. A flick had placed it into to the crystal ball. Placing it into the gnarled hand of Ragnarok had been followed a rasped statement from the displaced human.

"With that, this concludes our business, Overlord Ragnarok. I have fulfilled the promises that I made to you in the future. Enjoy that memory, my lord, for it comes from a surprising source."

With a nod to the others in the conference room, the cloak wearing human had headed for the door and hopefully before the head goblin had a chance to return from the memory. They had almost made out of the bank before being stopped by the security goblins at the huge doors that led to the outside world. A roar of rage had sounded just as they had reached the threshold and crossed spears had stopped them.

Luckily, there not that many customers on the main floor when that roar had happened. Those that were there had been quickly forced to conclude their business, then escorted from the building. The time traveler had been moved to the side and placed under guard. After the last customer had been chivied out the door, they had slammed shut and bolted closed.

"What is the meaning of this," roared a very angry leader of the Goblin Hoard as he had held the now empty memory crystal aloft. "How did you get this memory?"

It was the second time in living memory that a Director of the goblin run bank had been on the main floor of the bank once they had ascended to that position.

With a calmness that had been honed through years of being in similar positions, the grey cloaked human had responded with a calm measured tone.

"That memory was given to me by the person whom it claims to be from after I personally saved her from the clutches of a Death Eater slave camp. She had been captured during a raid on the lower levels of this bank by a group of goblin traitors and Death Eaters. I and several others risked our lives that day when we raided that camp in order to save as many of the prisoners as we could. She had been kept in the high security section. I lost my best friend and lover that day saving the one in the memory.

"When I returned her to you, you thought it was a trick by the Death Eaters in order to gain access again to the bank. It was her that convinced you that it was not. She also convinced you to teach me what I now know in payment for saving and returning her to you. Once we were done, the two of you gave me those memories to pass on to you.

"As further payment, the both of you helped with clarifying the runes and the ritual that was used to send me here. All of this was done before you sealed the Bank and lower levels citing a breach of the Treaties for doing so. For the last several days I have been open and honest with you as required by the Shadow Proclamation. Do wish to break our agreement and the Proclamation?"

Now instead of a calm human, those that had been on the main bank floor had again felt a pressure wave of magic rolling off of the only human that was still inside their sanctum. One that had been in more battles than any of goblins, including the current Warlord of the Nation, currently standing there in the main hall. Both sides had known that the situation could go either way, all it would have taken would have been one wrong move by either party.

After several tense moments, the situation had been diffused when the cloaked human had slowly reached a gloved hand up to the cowl that covered its head. With a quick shove, the hood had lowered revealing the head that it was covering. What had been seen be the goblins present was not a pretty sight.

Heavy scarring covered most of the left side, including the hair, from what looked like a burn. The ear on that side of the head had been burned down to just a lump of flesh. The eye was just a cloth patch held in place by string. A deep scar ran from under the right eye down the cheek to the underside of the jawbone. The single cold eye held a promise pain and death to those that had seen it. It had also held a barely restrained fury and power. Everyone there had seen why the visitor spoke with a rasping voice. There was a deep gash where the Adam's apple was.

Overall, it was a face that had seen heavy combat and showed not an ounce of emotion other than a resolve to get out of that bank in one piece. Several of the younger security goblins had shuddered as the single eyed gaze had passed over them. The Director himself had felt a sense of foreboding as he locked his gaze with that of the human time traveler.

"No," ground out the Goblin Leader, "there will be no breaking of our agreement or the Proclamation today. We will honor our agreement and carry out the terms. But know this, if you fail, I will personally hunt down your line and exterminate it."

"I would expect no less from such a great leader and goblin as you. You are a credit to your linage and race, Warlord Ragnarok, Son of Backblade."

With that, the scarred time displaced human had raised the covering hood, concealing their features once again. With a nod from the head goblin, the doors to the bank had been opened and the human had exited onto the busy street of Diagon Ally.

End of Flashback

The time displaced person had finally reached the correct address and it was as they had feared. The front door was blown open. With a sigh, they just hoped that they were still in time to save at least the mother from death. Moving quickly, they passed the open gate and dropped a specially prepared stone on to the walkway leading up to the blasted open door.

Once the stone hit the ground, a barely noticeable pulse of magic left it. The pulse rapidly faded as the stone began to glow with power. An appreciative nod of the head was the only reaction from the cloaked magic user. They knew that with the stone now active, the house would be impenetrable for about thirty minutes.

Hurrying past the cooling corpse of one James Potter on the entry hall floor, the figure silently made its way up the stairs to the next level of the home using various concealment charms. Voices could be heard coming from a room on the left that also had its door blasted off its hinges.

A quick peak around the frame showed that it was a nursery. Standing just on the other side of the doorway was slightly hunched over plump wizard. A bit farther in was a tall bald headed man with very pale skin radiating both power and a wrongness. There standing in front of cot was a beautiful redheaded woman in her early twenties pleading for the life of her son in the cot.

With harshly spoken spell in a high cold voice and a flash of green light, the begging was over. There was a thump and the pleading mother was on the floor in front of the cot. Only the cloaked person saw a flash of pale light leave the fallen body and into the toddler now standing in the cot.

A rage unlike anything that the time traveler had ever felt before engulfed them. Faster than was thought possible for a human magic user to cast spells, three spells left the hand of the cloaked person. A silent red beam slammed into the back of the hunched man, punching a hole completely through him. The force of the spell caused the dying man to pitch forward several feet and crash into the wall opposite of where the spell came from.

The other two spells smacked into the tall pale man. The first spell removed the wand arm of the foul feeling wizard. As the arm fell to the nursery floor, the second one caused him to slump to the floor on his back. A wiggle of the gloved fingers sealed the shoulder so that the now unconscious wizard didn't bleed out. For good measure, another stunning spell was used to make sure that powerful wizard was out of commission until it was time to deal with him.

A sigh escaped the lips of the scarred person. They had been in time. Now for the hard part, they thought. Pulling a pot of specially made ink and a quill from a hidden pocket, they made their way over to the redheaded lady on the floor. They then noticed the bright green eyes of the baby boy in the cot watching them with curiosity.

"Everything will be alright little one," rasped out the cloaked time displaced person gently. "Now, why don't you lie down and sleep."

At the word 'sleep', the gray cloaked individual cast a silent sominus spell causing the tiny toddler to fall asleep. Gently laying the curious boy down on his mattress, the only conscious person in the house set to work.

A wave of the hand removed the sleeping boy's clothes. Dipping the special quill into the ink pot, the scarred magic user set to work on the young boy. With practice ease and precision, they drew a set of runes on the boy's body. Three went on the forehead, one on each cheek and the third in the middle of the forehead. The next set was placed on the chest, around the heart on the shoulders. The final combination was drawn around the toddler's genitals and thighs. A critical eye checked over the runes to make sure that there had been no mistakes.

Turning to the beautiful young lady's body lying on the floor, they sighed as they realized what they would need to do to the woman's body in preparation for the rite that needed to be done. A quick tempus spell showed that only eight minutes had elapsed since they had started on the boy. With a shrug, the time displaced person set to work on the boy's mother.

A wave of the hand removed the dead woman's clothing exposing her exquisite body for all to see. Another way laid the body out on her back. Kneeling down, the cloaked person studied the woman's placid face moment before making a comment.

"Soon, my lady, you will be where you belong and with your son in person."

With that, they set to work. Similar, but not quite the same, runes were drawn on her body in the same areas as her son. The magic user paused for a moment as they had moved from the head down to her breasts. Shaking its head to throw off the woolgathering, they finished the runes that needed to be placed on the chest. Moving lower had caused a blush to creep up as they looked at the lady's lower regions. Even though the time traveling magic user had practiced on volunteers in the future, this part of the rite had always caused them problems. Grabbing itself by the preverbal belt, they laid out the final set of runes on the boy's mother.

Standing up on shaking legs and leaving the now empty ink pot and quill on the floor, the scarred user of magic centered themselves with a few deep breaths. Another tempus spell showed that another seven minutes had past. Raising their gloved hands to chest height, palms inward facing, they began to chant a spell that has not been spoken since some time of the Pharaohs of ancient Egypt. As the chant continued, an invisible wind began to whip the magic user's cloak and causing its hair to stand on end. A pale blue glow also started to form in between the person's hands.

As the chant reached its height, the pale blue glow had formed into an incandescent ball of energy. Shooting from the space between the hands, it zipped toward the runes that had been drawn on the boy's sleeping body. The runes glowed briefly, then faded. Now came the longest waiting period of the scarred warrior's battle hardened life.

After what seemed like an eternity, another pale blue glow started to surround the sleeping toddler. It eventually rose from the prone boy's body and hovered over it. Finally resolving into an exact duplicate of the lady lying on the floor of the nursery, the ghostly form moved from a floating position to a standing one. Its eyes snapped open revealing the same jade green that the toddler had.

"What have you done," screamed the ghostly lady as she looked around the room. "What is going on?"

"Please," rasped the out of breath and slightly tired magic user, "my lady, be calm and at peace. I am here to set a lot of things right. As you can see, Voldemort is currently lying over there on the floor missing his wand arm and your Secret Keeper, Wormtail, is next to the wall with a hole where his chest used to be. A fitting end to a traitor in my opinion.

"Now," continued the cloaked magic user before the intelligent red head could get in a word, "as you can see, I have called you back from inhabiting your son's body. Unfortunately, this will only last for a few minutes. In that time, you will have to make a choice that will affect the fate of the entire world as you know it. Are you with me so far?"

A nod of the red head's ghostly head indicated that she did.

"Good. Here are you choices. One, you can move on to be with your beloved husband, James. This will leave young Harry here at the mercy of Dumbledore who will circumvent your Will and place the young lordling with your non-magical sister. Two, I can return you to your son's body. From there, you will be able to provide the protection that your ritual sought to. Unfortunately, this will have the same result as option one for your son.

"Do not believe that this will not happen, it will. Dumbledore has plans for your son and they do not include you, your husband or anyone that you have listed as guardians. Have you ever noticed exactly how he has used the Order of the Phoenix? Or just who he has deployed your strike teams against or who he has chosen to save? Your vaunted 'Leader of the Light' is trying to shape the magical world to how and what he thinks it should be."

The last part was rasped out with traces of anger and resentment. The ghostly woman flinched slightly at the tone of the person who was talking to her.

"And the third choice you mentioned," the ghost of Lily Potter stated, "avoids the first two choices and, from looking at the runes on my body, somehow rejoins my spirit with it."

A smile graced the scarred person's features, not that it could be seen.

"Ah, the famous intelligence of Lily Marie Evans Potter, the misplaced Ravenclaw," rasped the wounded time warrior. "Yes, it does. With you alive, this negates most of Dumbledore's plans, but not all of them. You will have to be careful and surround yourself with trusted advisors who do not fall for the Grandfatherly Personae the old man uses. He is not as powerful nor as Light as he likes to present himself.

"Yes, I know he has a Phoenix who is bonded to him. Said Phoenix did bond with him as a familiar in his early days, and back then Dumbledore was still Light with the best of intentions, but after his battle with his former lover Grindelwald, the man began to change. His Phoenix noticed this and has tried to keep him on the right path, but it was not to be. When the Phoenix attempted to leave him one day, Dumbledore forced a burning day somehow and then runically bonded the Phoenix to him. Trust me, this Phoenix would like nothing better than to leave this now no longer Light wizard. Dumbledore is now a Grey Wizard and leaning more towards Dark every day. His manipulations of certain people prove this."

This was said as the hooded one pointed to both Peter Pettigrew and Voldemort.

"Time is growing short, my lady," the time traveler ground out. "You have to make a choice. Will you return to your son's body, move on to be with your beloved husband or rejoin your body? You have about twenty seconds to decide before the choice is taken from you."

The ghostly figure of the beautiful red head studied the figure before her for a long moment, then seemed to reach a decision. With a nod of her head to a point just behind the cloaked figure, the most brilliant witch to grace the world in the last few hundred years glided over to her prone naked body.

"For my son," the ghostly woman stated with conviction, "and because you have confirmed most of what I have suspected, I want to be returned to my body."

"Good. Now lay down in your body. For this to work, you must be completely inside of it."

The specter of Lily Potter nodded again, then laid down, making sure that every bit of glowing spirit was encased in her body. The hooded time warrior looked over the prone form also confirming that not one iota of the spirit was outside the prone figure.

Again raising their hands to chest height, the cloaked figure from the future began a chant that had not been heard since ancient Egypt in its heyday. The magical wind and pressure built with the chant. Once it reached it height, the barely constrained energy lashed out with an eerily green glow. A connection formed between caster and castee. This lasted for about five seconds then suddenly ended. The glow continued to surround the prone form of then now alive body of Harry Potter's red headed mother for a moment longer, then faded.

With a tiredness that they hadn't felt in a long time, the standing figure of the future person collapsed to its knees. Breathing deeply, they stayed there like that for about a minute, then squared their shoulders and prepared to continue. There was still a lot to do before this was really over.

Pulling two prepared scrolls from another hidden pocket, they placed them next to the now unconscious and breathing body of the Lady Potter. A wave of the hand accompanied by a finger wiggle caused both mother and son to be clothed again. All traces of the hand drawn runes had vanished. The only conscious person still in the room then stood up with the groan of an aged person.

Moving tiredly over to the downed body of the traitorous rat in human form, the future warrior felt the neck of the dead man for a pulse. Finding none, they cast a stasis charm and a body binding hex just as a precaution. With a sigh, they turned to the collapsed figure of the Dark Lord. Stumbling slightly, the gray cloaked person made their way across the nursery to it.

With another wave of their hand, the magic user from the future cast a paralyzing spell of their own make on to the unconscious Dark Lord. Once they were sure that the spell had taken affect, they cast a spell to bring the pale skinned snake like man back to waking world. With a gasp, the crimson colored eyes snapped open and started to look around the room. They quickly locked onto the cloaked person looming over them.

"Release me," screamed the Lord of the Dark. "If you don't, then my minions will destroy you when they release me. I will then make you wish for dea-"

A wave of the hand silenced the ranting mostly human figure lying before them.

"The same as always, Tom," the cloaked figure stated while shaking their head back and forth. "You still rant and rave and go on about how great and powerful that you are. What you will do if things don't go your way. How your people will make sure that it happens. Blah, blah, blah. Pathetic."

This caught the immobilized one armed snake like person's attention. The crimson eyes narrowed and tried to bore into the concealed eyes of the hooded person now squatting next to them.

"You see, Tom," the rapidly tiring magic user, "you are not as powerful nor as immortal as you claim to be. Your time on this plane of existence is at an end and just to make sure you understand, here are you anchors."

With that, the future warrior started to pull Voldemort's soul anchors from a final hidden pocket one at a time. As each one was placed on the paralyzed chest of the prone figure, the non-existent eyebrows rose higher and higher. Fear also crept into the eyes as the Dark Lord realized he would now be forcefully ejected from this life. A pleading look was given by the silenced doomed wizard.

"Good bye," rasped the cloaked wizard from the future. "Don't worry, your minions as you called them will be joining you soon. Steps have been taken to make that a reality."

With that, a beam of pure white light left the forefinger of the cloaked person's right hand and impacted the bald forehead of the doomed Dark Lord. Surprise widened the eyes of the former being known as Tom Marvolo Riddle as the spell painlessly bored through the skin and skull and vanished the brain of the downed wizard. With the absence of the grey matter in the head, the body of the fallen Lord Voldemort ceased to function and died.

It was done. Their task was accomplished. The future magic user thought that they would feel elation or something akin to that once this was done, but instead they felt nothing. Just a sense of relief that the future had just changed. It was now up to the people who would be left and the groundwork that they had laid over the course of the last week to make sure that it was a better future than what they had come from.

Dropping to one knee, the only conscious person in the nursery turned their head to a corner of the room. With a hidden smile, they gestured towards that corner.

"Come on out little one," the scarred warrior from the future said gently, "I wont hurt you or anyone else in this room."

Slowly, a figure resolved into physicality. It was another house elf, only this one was female, young and well cared for. The tiny creature was projecting an air of nervousness and a small amount of fear with its tennis ball sized eyes and constantly shifting from one foot to another. She didn't move from her spot though.

"Yous sure," squeaked the young dress wearing house elf. On the upper left side of the dress was the Crest of House Potter.

The hooded one nodded their head.

"Why yous help Mistress and Young Master?"

"Because it is what I was sent here to do," they answered gently. "Now that that is done, I would like to ask a favor of you. Would that be possible?"

The ever helpful creature's face scrunched up in concentration, while a hand reached out towards the cloaked human. With a grasping motion, the young elf used its particular brand of magic to test the other being's magic.

"Yous a good wizard," stated the house elf. "Marny helps you. Yous need Marny doing what?"

The cloaked figure sighed in relief.

"Thank you, Marny. You are a very good elf. Now, I need you to do a few things for me. First, on the walkway up to the front door is a small stone with several runes carved on. Its magic is due to end soon. I need you or one of your fellow elves to get that stone and make sure that only your Mistress gets it and no one else. Especially the one known as Dumbledore. Can you do that for me?"

The helpful creature nodded its head in agreement causing its bat like ears to flap slightly.

"Good," stated the kneeling magic user. "The second thing is that no matter who shows up, only your Mistress is to get those scrolls lying next to her. They contain vital information that she will need from here on out. This is in case I am not here when she wakes up."

The elf's out sized eyes opened even further when she heard that last statement, then narrowed.

"Yous is fading," she squeaked as she looked back and forth between the cloaked human and her mistress. "Why is yous fading into Mistress?"

Confusion was clearly written on the now worried elf. The person from the future chuckled a bit at Marny's expression, then quickly explained.

"The spell that I used to bind your Mistress' soul back into her body came with a cost. That cost is caster's life force. It is a price that I am gladly paying to make sure that your young Master has his mother with him. Understand?"

Tears formed in the dress wearing house elf's eyes as she rushed forward and hugged the human from the future for all she was worth. The hugged human hugged back just as hard. When they separated, Marny declared the time traveler to be the bestest wizard ever.

"Thank you, Marny," the person wearing the gray hooded cloak rasped out. "Now the final task that I have for you is this: When the magic that the runic stone has wears out, only Sirius Black is allowed to enter here. There will probably be a group of goblin warriors outside also. If there are, they are here to protect both your Mistress and young Master. If they ask to be allowed to enter, then let them in, alright?"

"Marny understands," squeaked the excited elf. "Marny and the others wills do as you say."

As the young helpful elf was about to pop away, she stopped and looked at the strange magic user for a moment, then launched herself into their arms for one final hug. The time traveling being hugged her back, then gently let her go. With a final wipe of her eyes, the dress wearing loyal house elf popped away to take care of her assignments.

With a sad sigh, the only conscious person in the room slowly and painfully stood up and made their way over to the prone from of the Lady Lily Potter and the cot containing the future Lord Harry Potter. Leaning gently against the sleeping boy's cot to support themselves, they studied what they considered to be the future of the magical world. With the death of the Dark Lord and the betrayer of the Potters, the future that they had come from was now irrevocably changed, hopefully for the better.

A sudden weakness gripped them, causing cloaked person to stagger, almost flipping the cot on its side. Stumbling over to the nearest wall, they rested for a second, then slid down with their back to the wall. With a sigh, the scarred magic user from the future relaxed and waited for the inevitable end of their tortured existence. While waiting, they kept a critical eye on the unconscious form of Lily Potter.

It took a few more moments before the prone from of the misplaced Ravenclaw started to stir. With a gasp, the Lady Potter suddenly sat up while grasping her blouse between her breasts. Slowly, emerald green eyes focused on their surroundings and her breathing slowed down. The still slightly confused woman took in her surroundings as her memories of the last few minutes as a specter synced with her physical mind.

"Harry," Lily shouted suddenly as the final memory cobwebs cleared from her mind.

Jumping up, the newly restored Lady Potter quickly turned to the cot next to her and looked down on her sleeping son. A soft motherly look crossed the red headed lady's features as she saw that her son was just sleeping peacefully. Reaching down with a gentle hand, she brushed the fringe covering sleeping boy's forehead to the side. There on the forehead was a fully healed pale colored lightning bolt shaped scar. The brilliant former Gryffindor knew that no matter what she did, the scar would never go away using magic. It might fade over time as her precious boy grew, but that was just a hope.

Turning around, she took in the body of the fallen Dark Lord and her now former friend, the betrayer Peter Pettigrew. Her fallen wand jumped from the floor and into her hand before she even realized it. The tip of the willow wooded wand was glowing with a bright red light as the powerful witch moved the wand back and forth between the two downed bodies. Lily finally realized that the two non moving bodies were dead when she saw the pools of blood that was collecting underneath them.

"Read the scrolls," rasped a tired voice from behind her.

Whipping around, the brilliant red headed witch leveled her wand at the gray cloaked magic user leaning against the wall of the nursery. A glow was starting to emit from the end of willow wand before she remembered that this was the person who had just restored her to her body. Again the hooded person told her to read the scrolls that were on the floor near her feet. Lowering her wand, Lily complied with the rasped request.

Taking one the thinner one first, the mother of the sleeping boy placed the other thicker one in a pocket of her jumper. With a raised elegant eyebrow, she asked a silent question while holding the first scroll in front of her. The seated figure answered.

"The one that you are holding," the warrior from the future gasped out tiredly, "is a list of all of Tom Riddle's, aka Lord Voldemort, marked Death Eaters, unmarked supporters and financiers. It also contains a brief list of each one's crimes and what they had to do in order to gain the Dark Mark of their Master."

The fading magic user paused for a moment to gather their breath, then continued in their unique voice.

"The thicker one is a very detailed list of one Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore's crimes. As you can see, it is a very long list. It starts from the time he met Grindelwald up to a few days ago. From the ones the he personally committed, he ordered or allowed to happen. There is a slightly smaller section that details the crimes of his loyal supporters. Needless to say, the Whiskered One would do anything to get his hands on those scrolls if he even suspected they existed."

"Why did you do this," asked the ever curious mother.

The wall leaning figure just let out a very tired rasping laugh. Once they had gathered their breath, the rapidly fading unknown savior continued in a very serious tone.

"I am simply repaying an old debt, one that was long overdue. Also, because if Dumberdore has his way, then there will be a caste system emplaced. Or more accurately, a feudal system, one where your status at birth determines your permanent social status. Where Riddle and his followers wanted to something similar, but through violent means, Bumbles has been doing this silently for over a century in the background and from the shadows. According to him, it's his world and we are just living here because he allows us to.

"Remember, my lady, keep those scrolls safe and never let He-Who-Must-Wear-Psychedelic-Colored-Robes know that they exist. Also, remember to surround yourself with those that you can trust completely. Also, do not be to surprised about him being unhappy that you survived. One of his goals is to either subvert or completely destroy the Ancient and Nobles Houses, as they exist at this time. He wants to replace them with those that he considers better able to carry out and handle the responsibilities. "

The restored mother could see that sharing this information was tiring out the gray cloaked person. With a frown, she stared at the fading person in the gray cloak.

"Are you alright," she asked with some concern. "You seem to be getting weaker."

A harsh laugh was all of the answer that she received followed by a coughing fit.

"The ritual that I used to bond you back to your body required a sacrifice. I paid it willingly and with no hesitation what so ever. You being alive IS worth more than myself. Just take care of your son and raise him with love and care, my lady."

The returned mother could see that the magic user was rapidly tiring and she frowned even more. A cry of 'Mama' behind her let her know that her no longer sleeping son was now awake and was wanting some attention. The fiery red head turned to her scarred little man with a cheerful smile gracing her lips. What neither of other conscious people in the room could see was the warm smile that graced the face of the fading warrior from the future.

"Little Man," she cried out. "Come here and let Mummy hold you."

With his arms raised, the young lordling waited with a smile for his lovely red headed mama to pick him up and hold him. Once safely ensconced in her arms, everything was alright as far as he was concerned as the young recently scarred tyke snuggled into his mother's chest and popped a thumb into his mouth. Wide green eyes started to droop again as the young widowed mother started to unconsciously hum a lullaby to her son. Turning back to her personal sitting savior, the red headed genius stared at them for a moment before a question crossed her mind.

"Before you ask," rasped out the cloaked caster, "no, I will not tell you who I am. But I will say this, you need to cast a spell that will disrupt the magic of this place. If you don't, Dumbles will find out that you actually died here and were brought back to life via, what he considers, 'dark' magic. If he EVER finds out what really happened here, the One-Who-Must-Control-All will use that against you to take young Harry from your care and have you destroyed. It is his way and would fit in with his plans."

The fiery witch's eyes blazed at this and without a second thought, the temperamental woman cast a powerful spell that would not allow anyone to find out what exactly had happened in that room for the last hour via magical or any other means. The power of the spell caused part of the nursery wall to blow out just above the body of the fallen Dark Lord and destroyed part of the roof. It also caused the cot that the younger physical version of James Potter had recently been in to splinter and shatter into several pieces.

Her eyes still blazing with an inner fire that turned them into liquid pools of burning copper, the powerful petite witch glared at her and her son's benefactor.

"Tell me who you are," the irate witch demanded.

There was no response or movement from the seated magic user. Not even a breath. Before her stunned eyes, the gray cloak started to fall in on itself. The boots that the person had been wearing popped out of the robe and stood alone. The hood that was covering the face of her personal savior folded in and collapsed onto the chest. Within a matter of seconds, all that was left was a pile of used clothing. Lily's breath caught in her throat.

The small pop that occurred next to her startled the shocked witch just enough that the mostly asleep boy in her arms woke up. Looking down, both of them saw that it was the ever helpful house elf Marny.

"Hes is gone, Mistress," squeaked the young bashful creature. "Hes said that yous be needing this."

With that said, the well-dressed elf handed over the pyramid shaped runically covered stone that their savior had made.

"Thank you, Marny," stated the still upset red head. "Did he say anything else?"

"Yes, Mistress. Hes be saying that yous not to let anyones but yous have the stone. And yous only allowed to sees Master Doggy and Gobliny people."

With that said, there were a few more pops in the room as three more house elves entered the room in their unique way. Each one was dressed in clothes appropriate for their gender and the Potter Crest sewn on to the breast.

"Mistress," one of the male house elves stated to get Lily's attention. Once he had it, the elder house elf continued.

"The Gobliny people is heres to see you. Theys says it is important."

With one last look around the partially destroyed room and the fallen, the red headed Lady of House Potter gave a weary sigh. She then gestured for the elves to lead the way out of the room. Firmly holding onto her sleeping son, Lily exited the room and headed out of the room surrounded by the loyal house elves with Marny in the lead. None of them looked back as they left the nursery for the final time.

It was when the quintet of magical beings and one sleeping toddler reached the down stairs front and saw the destruction that Lily almost lost it. The room was mostly destroyed. The furniture had been blasted to pieces. Most of it had been used by her late husband as transfiguration material to attack the Dark Lord. Holes had been carved all of the walls, some of them still smoldering. The big window that looked out over the front yard had been shattered and the curtains shredded. Spent magic still hung in the air of the room, a testament to the power and ferocity of the battle that had occurred.

Looking around the corner of the short hallway that lead into the kitchen is where the returned mother saw her beloved husband's body, slumped against the wall. Her gasp was luckily not enough to wake the sleeping messy haired boy in her arms. The condition of the late Lord Potter's body was enough to cause some tears of sadness to roll down her cheeks. Holes were burned into clothes and blacken flesh could be seen. The glassy eyed stare showed that the brave defender had finally succumbed to the dreaded Killing Curse.

With a steading breath, the grieving spouse gave her orders to some of the sharply dressed elves with her.

"Bilt, Hossy," she ordered two of the elves, one male the other female, "take my beloved husband's body to the Battlements and start preparing him for … for … for burial."

With a 'Yes, Mistress', the two mentioned elves approached the fallen Lord and with a slight 'pop', departed to the seat of Potter power and influence. As the two loyal elves left the shattered home with their dead lord, a thought occurred to the Lady of House Potter. Turning to the remaining male elf, she gave a sad smile and her instructions.

"Woss, I need you to find Sirus Black and bring him to where ever I will be."

With a nod and 'Yes, Mistress', the male elf left with a pop and started his search for the future head of House Black. With a sigh, Lily turned from the damaged hallway and headed out the front door followed by the ever dutiful Marny.

Once out the front door, she was greeted by the sight of several grim and savage looking goblins ready for battle. Some were facing in towards the wrecked home, while the rest were looking out towards the road. Weapons were at the ready and tensions seemed to be high. Stepping into the meager light of night sky caused the ones facing her to relax slightly. The one in charge of the battle group warily approached the grieving mother.

"We are here," he stated in a very rough and angry voice, "to escort you and the young Lordling to Gringotts as per agreement and contract. Will you comply?"

"Yes we will, master Goblin," Lily stated. "I have no wish to anger you, those with you or the Goblin Nation. I just want to get this over with so I can grieve and bury my beloved husband."

At this, the Goblin battle group relaxed slightly and gestured for the red headed witch to come forward. As always, the dress wearing house elf followed very determined to follow the final requests of the dead warrior from the future. Producing a length of rope, the lead Goblin gestured for everyone to grab hold. Making sure everyone had, the surly Goblin war leader uttered the activation phrase. In a flash of light and sound, the multi species group vanished from the small hamlet of Godric's Hollow and silence descended.