Harry survived his attack on Voldemort, but barely. Nursed back to health by creatures that knew more of the darkness of the world then even Voldemort. Harry finds himself with a new future ahead of him and a new life and an even greater darkness that he, himself, had created.

Harry Potter and the Time of the Lost

A/N: I own nothing, it's all Rowling's


July, 1996 - Heidelberg, Germany

He'd had enough; this dark wizard that kept terrorizing his customers and driving away his business was going to pay. The tall brown-eyed, dark haired man knocked hard on the wooden door and waited. The old mansion that stood magically concealed to muggles was hidden in the hillside on the far side of the old castle of Heidelberg and it towered over him, casting him in shadow. The mansion was the only magically concealed building left in Heidelberg, and if he had anything to say about it, it would be the last. Outside magic was not welcomed in this town. The small city held its own magic; it did not need the magic of the wizarding world to taint it.

After several long seconds, and another fierce knock, a small creature with huge yellow eyes and floppy ears nervously answered the door.

"House Elf, I would like to speak with your master."

"My master is not receiving visitors, Sir," squeaked the barley dressed elf, fretfully ringing her long skinny fingers.

"He will receive me, now go and tell him that J. Harold is here to see him," the man again waited as the elf scurried off. He straitened his tie-less black suit and waited for several more long seconds before a pompous looking wizard with light brown hair entered into the entry hall.

"My House Elf instructed that I was not receiving visitors. What do you want this time Mr. Harold?" The wizard asked as he brushed invisible dust off of immaculate robes.

"I am here to bargain for the discontinuation of aggressions against my Apothecary," the dark haired man said barely civilly but in a calm voice.

"Are you now? Bargain? Exactly what aggressions do you wish for me to discontinue?" the wizard asked in amusement as he leaned on his wolf's head cane, a cane that was too rich to really belong to him.

"I want for you to call your goons off and stop harassing my customers away from my business. This town is not big enough for the both of us, there for I want you to leave and not come back."

"Really and what is a great Muggle such as yourself going to do against a great Wizards such as me?" The wizard laughed pretentiously.

A twitch of a smile came to the raven-haired man's lips as he reached out his hand, pointing his palm towards the wizard. "Who said anything about me being a Muggle? Crucio!" The wizard dropped to the floor and screamed out and wreathed in agony for nearly a full minute before the curse was lifted. If the wizard had voiced his opinion of the curse, he would have said that the pain and power of it rivaled that of even the Dark Lord, not that he was going to do so. "Now, you were going to leave, were you not?" Mr. Harold said calmly.

The wizard shakily scrambled to his feet, his cane forgotten on the floor. "Please, my master commanded that I stay in this town, if I leave he'll kill me," he begged.

"Think of it this way, if you stay, I will most certainly kill you, but if you leave, at least you'll have a chance to run," the man clamped a hand onto the wizard's robes. "And you can tell Lord Voldemort that this Muggle village is protected by the Heir of Merlin and anyone he sends here I will kill, without hesitation. He cannot and will not have the Magic of Heidelberg!"

The wizard nodded furiously and then disappeared with a loud crack as he was released.

J. Harold sighed and picked up the silver wolf's head cane with slight interest and made to leave when he heard a small whimper and a weak cry for help. He turned on his heals. "You, is there anyone else in this house?"

The tiny House Elf shook her head 'no' furiously, but whimpered, "yes, down stairs," before disappearing to follow her master.

J. Harold followed the grand staircase down to the floor below. He drew his wand before he opened the nearest door and looked into a dank dim room. What he saw was appalling, but he did not flinch at it.

A girl in tattered black wizard's robes was chained to the far corner of the room and it looked as if her only luxury was the small cot that she was lying on. She had dark circles under her eyes and she was deathly pail with several visible scars on her fair skin. The black of her matted dirty hair brought out, with stark clarity, her reduced pallor.

The blue-eyed girl scrambled to the far end of her cot and looked at him with wide fear filled eyes, as she pushed herself against the wall. "It is alright, I will not harm you," he said as he pointed his wand at the chains and they fell away from her wrists and ankles. "Come now; let me take you out of here," he said as he picked the girl up off the cot as if she weighed nothing. The girl was so shocked that she didn't even fight. "I should not have let him live," he mumbled right before he Apparated with the girl to his home above his shop.

He laid her on his sofa and summoned to him a small medical kit. He was just rummaging around for a calming draught when the girl first spoke to him. And he looked up to her searing blue eyes.

"H-he never hurt me, h-he n-never treated me well, b-but he never hurt me. It was t-the boy that came, t-the boy with the w-white hair and g-gray eyes."

"A Malfoy," he whispered, wondering, knowing that he was right, white hair, grey eyes, it was a trademark. "Here drink this, it'll calm you down. Let me see your wrists," he said after she had swallowed the potion. "Fairly resent cuts, you did them yourself?"

"Yes, I w-wanted to die, but he would not let me, the b-boy with the gray eyes."

"You're lucky he did not kill you himself, Malfoys are not one for letting their victims live," he said as it was a matter of fact and he gently tended to the girls wounds, most of them not created by the girl. "My name is Mr. J. Harold, I own the Apothecary downstairs, what is your name?"

"Mikhail… Aker," the girl replied softly, firmly.

"An Aker; what are you doing so far away from Egypt?"

"I was stolen from my people when I was seven, I've spent my life trying to get back," the girl yawned before she quickly drifted off to sleep, under the effects of the sleeping draught that he had mixed into the calming draught.

J. Harold watched the young girl sleep, perhaps not so young, sixteen if he had to guess. He didn't know why but he felt a connection to the child and whispered a promise to the girl. "When you are strong enough to face your people, I will help you find them."

Of what little J. Harold knew about the Aker, their lands were undetectable and were only reachable by the sea of sand that formed the Sahara. And of course, there were many challenges to be faced that only a true Aker could withstand. So yes, they'd wait until she was strong enough, and until then, he'd take care of her. He didn't know why but he felt as if it were his duty to protect this child like she were his own.

His own…

He looked down at the wolf's head cane that lay on the floor by his side. He wondered for a moment if the wizard knew that this girl was an Aker. After a few minutes of debate, J. Harold decided that the wizard must have known and any man that would give a servant to a Malfoy did not deserve to live. No one that served Voldemort, deserved to live anyways.

J. Harold reached out his mind and magic and sensed the Apparation lines throughout his small city, it wasn't hard to find them, only two existed at that moment his and the wizards. The wizard had not gone far. With a small 'pop' J. Harold disappeared, with a cruel smile on his lips. It was time to take care of some unfinished business.


A/N: The Prologue is complete, onto the story. :)