Sorting Out Our Problems
At the kitchen table in their tent, Harry Potter and 'Harrison Peverell' looked over some mail. The most important ones were from the Goblins, thus the two boys focused on these letters.
One, Gringotts managed to take a deal with the authors of Potter's Adventures, so the Potter vault would be gaining a thirty-two percent increase in volume once the company shut down. Two, he got confirmation of the liquidation of the Gaunt vault into Slytherin. With Harry being the current Lord Potter, Black, and Slytherin, he would control the school's Governing board. Malfoy would be out of a seat once the Lestrange and Malfoy accounts were frozen, and the Peverell family coming 'back on the board.'
Harry was still trying to come up with a solution for Dumbledore. He knew Arabella saw him take Little Harry away yesterday, and Dumbledore would know the kid was gone eventually... Maybe he would drop the information on him and leave? Too many people couldn't know about him, but the Goblins and Dumbledore were the last two likely to gossip. The headmaster would also be a problem himself, so...
The last letter confirmed Hufflepuff's cup as destroyed, and the Lestrange vault having lost a heavy amount of gold in fees. The Goblins may be greedy bastards, but they took security seriously. There was also the fact that a Horcrux was a crime against magic. This train of thought led him down the avenue of the rest of the Horcruxes. He had already called Kreacher and demanded he bring the Locket.
He didn't have it.
Kreacher told him, while under commands from his Lord, that he had no idea what he was talking about. Apparently, Regulus happened to be a normal, if high-ranking, Death Eater in this world. That made Harry worry since even just a little discrepancy like that could set him back very far. He was certain the ring was scrap metal now because Harry still had his ring, but he could check on the diadem. The fact that the Cup was actually in Bella's vault bodes well for Harry.
Currently, Harry was attempting to safely remove the Horcrux from Little Harry. The way he did it in his world was painful and he didn't want that. His wand flashed back and forth as he muttered incantations under his breath, the sleeping child's head lighting up this and that color. Finally, he was able to get a response.
It wasn't a response he wanted, however.
If he was looking at it right, the shard inside of Little Harry was three times the size of the one from Harry's world. Quickly, he pulled it from his head while hissing Parseltongue spells and immediately drowned it in Fiendfyre once it was free. He put an extra sleeping charm on Little Harry before he warded him to alert Harry if he woke, then loaded the tent with wards and protections and popped away.
He landed in Little Hangelton, right outside the Gaunt shack and sprinted to the door before blowing it down with a swift reducto. He instantly saw the burn in the floorboards, along with a melted pile of slag, though that wasn't all he saw.
"Stupefy!" Harry hissed out in Parseltongue.
The kneeling figure fell to the floor from the overpowered and tweaked stunning spell, but his gaping expression did not fall with him. Harry was astonished, horrified, and confused as fuck. The man he had just stunned was Tom Riddle, not Lord Voldemort. He was almost Harry's height at just over six feet and quite handsome, with almost curly dark brown hair peppered with grey and strong aristocratic features. His eyes were still red, but he had hair and a nose.
Quickly, he fell to his knees beside the man and dove into his mind, forcing out his Mage Magic to break Tom's defenses. He threaded through the memories as fast as he could, finding what he needed and removing himself from Tom's memories. He wouldn't remember Harry being there.
In Tom's mind, Harry found the answers that were confusing him the last few days. Voldemort created only four Horcruxes in this world, but he spent his mostly sane life performing obscure and exhausting rituals, using every ounce of knowledge he could to make himself more powerful and closer to a God. He was likely more Immortal than Harry cared to deal with, but he'd figure it out.
The problem was, he hid everything even remotely telling very, very well. If Harry didn't know any better, he'd think Voldemort Obliviated himself.
In this world, Lord Voldemort spent his time in ways other than raping, torturing, murdering, or sitting his pasty white arse on a throne. When he wasn't busy Dark Lording, he was searching the world for power. He went from town to town, country to country, legend to legend to find more ways to safeguard himself from death. He had even searched for the Hallows for a time, finding a dead end with Gregorovitch.
Unfortunately, one of the memories of Horcruxes Harry did find was not good. In this world, Voldemort used Myrtle's death to create his diary, but he did it differently. Instead of using the Basilisk, he spent some time creating a spell that would kill and remove the victim's heart with no external signs of tampering. That likely meant he was much more sane. Harry could only imagine the damage his Voldemort had done by using the Basilisk instead of a real murder.
Magic as powerful and volatile as Horcruxes needed to be perfect down to the T, or everything could go horribly wrong.
Another thing was Voldemort intentionally making Little Harry a Horcrux. Harry could imagine what went through Voldemort's mind there. Most probably, he assumed that neither of them could die until the other did, effectively making both of them completely immortal, and the Horcrux inside of him would eventually take control, negating any threat Little Harry posed to His Darkness.
Harry just yelled in frustration, setting the shack ablaze and apparating away. Unfortunately, Voldemort would eventually escape.
Tearing through the wards specifically around the Headmaster's office, Harry swore and fell to a knee. He looked up to see Dumbledore pointing a wand at him from behind the desk, frowning thoughtfully.
"May I help you, my boy?" He asked, those damnable eyes twinkling.
Harry snarled and very slowly drew the Elder Wand, removing the glamour around his ring and flickering the cloak into existence. He took satisfaction in the Headmaster's shaking wand and suddenly flat eyes. Harry put the wand away and slowly made his way to a chair, both men eyeing each other and sitting at the same time.
"You, Albus Dumbledore, are a very big fucking problem. Bring out your pensive."
Drawing their wands together, Harry started to pull the pertinent memories to his mind as Dumbledore levitated the stone basin to the desk.
"Master of Death, if I may?"
Harry eyed him with contempt as he poured his copies into the bowl, Fawkes preening his long, black hair.
"Ah, yes, well... I was wondering if I could see Ariana?"
He sighed and holstered his wand, stroking Fawkes's feathers as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. Dumbledore was an arsehole, yes, but didn't even he deserve to say goodbye to his sister? Harry didn't plan on killing him unless he caused trouble. Slowly nodding, he told Dumbledore to cast himself a privacy screen and summoned Ariana.
The memories Harry put in the Pensive were every single memory he had of Dumbledore causing him harm or failing in some way, and how the war ended just days after his death. He put every second of the Dursley's abuse, every cold and lonely and hungry night, every dream and wish for a mother to care for him, every 'challenge' he faced in his days in Hogwarts, every time Dumbledore did something outrageous 'For the Greater Good' and every time he turned a blind eye.
Finally, Dumbledore was finished talking with his sister, so Harry let her go back as he took down the privacy screen. When Dumbledore looked at him with tear-stained cheeks and the most aged, thankful look on his face, Harry slowly slid a pair of woolen socks across his desk.
"Now, I am not doing this to make you feel bad or to hurt you. This is just a warning, Albus. Watch these memories and listen to what I have to say."
Harry watched as Dumbledore's aged body shook for ten minutes while he viewed the memories. When he came back out, Harry slid a calming draught and a finger of whiskey to him.
"What in Merlin's name was that? Are you a Seer?"
"No. That was my life, Dumbledore. I am Harry James Potter, now Harrison Peverell. Did you see the last man? He was causing problems, trying to start another war, and I killed him. After everything you put me through, everything I lost, I had to stop another war, that COST ME MY ONLY FAMILY! You are the biggest arsehole I have ever met, Albus, but you didn't cause that. No, you raised me to die and conditioned me to fix any problem and fight any righteous fight. You may not have done it yet, but you've already left your Harry with the Dursleys. Do you know how I found him? Dressed in rags, starving and malnourished with a broken arm, a concussion, and a bloody nose. That walrus of a man planned on killing him when he came 'home' and you've left him there for eight years!"
"I know exactly how my life was with the Dursleys, and from what I've seen, his was just as bad. You're on a dangerous path, Dumbledore, and I advise you to stray from it. Let me help him, heal him, and train him. He will be safe and happy with me. You've caused me enough damage, now you can fix it. Please, Dumbledore. Don't damn another child."
Harry stood, nodding curtly to the man before him. Dumbledore looked broken, more ancient and sorrowful than Harry had ever seen him. It didn't please him to see this, there was a reason he gave his Dumbledore a quick, painless death and told him the reason for killing him. His actions finally caught up to him and everything was sinking in.
"I know this hurts, Albus, but fix your path and all will be well. I've had my revenge. I promise you to raise Harry well and to keep him safe. Oh, also, leave the fucking Flamel's alone."
With that, Harry left the Headmaster's office with a sharp crack, leaving behind a changing man.
Harry walked down the plain muggle street with a pep in his step, slowly approaching the large blue home. Today was the day he and Tonks had planned a date, and Harry had a nice night planned. As he knocked on the door, he heard a crash upstairs and a faint 'wait!' before it opened to Andromeda Tonks. She ran over his body with a critical eye, lingering on his rather beautiful robes, before settling on his eyes.
"Madame Tonks, Lord Peverell. It is a pleasure to meet you, dear. I'm here for Nymphadora?" He said with a cheeky smile at the end.
Andromeda smiled at him, slightly stunned that Lord Peverell was at her door before she called for Tonks. Who was already at the bottom of the stairs.
"Hey, Harrison, damn you look good!" She said wih an aroused look on her face.
Harry smiled and held his arm out for her.
"Good evening, Tonks. You look quite beautiful yourself, love. Are you ready?"
At her nod, Harry bid Andromeda farewell and stepped to the sidewalk, apparating them to a stupidly ostentatious restaurant deep in Diagon Alley. When he walked a wide-eyed Tonks to the door, the Hostess skipped up to them and beamed.
"Lord Peverell! Come, come, we have your table ready!"
Harry and Tonks sat down at the private table near the back with a window to the Alley, the Metamorph apparetly still trying to process a lot of the last two minutes.
"Could you bring out my Taylor Fladgate, please? The '96? Thank you."
"Uh... Harrison?"
"Call me Harry. Yes, Tonks?"
"You do know it's 1989, right? Not 1996?"
"Oh, that. No, I meant 1896. It's a Portuguese wine, a tawny port. You like wine, yes?"
Tonks gaped, her eyes bugging while her hair flashed through a myriad of colors, finally settling on white.
"You ordered a ninety-three-year-old wine?!"
"No, I requested a ninety-three-year bottle. My family has a small cellar here."
"Oh, my Merlin! Wait, that lady said Peverell! I asked out a Peverell?!"
Harry just laughed and leaned forward, kissing the expression off of her face. Of course, he pushed a slight bit of magic through the kiss, but hey! If you've got a tool, use it. Harry definitely had a tool... He leaned back as the Waitress came back with the bottle, trailing his hand along Tonks's thigh and pushing a jolt of his magic to her, pulling a long, hard shudder and a moan from her.
He participated in all the intricacies that came with an expensive bottle and poured Tonks a glass, then himself. Once they settled back and ordered, Harry initiated a bit of conversation. After they ate, Harry ordered another bottle, Domaine de la Romanee, a French vintage, and handed it to Tonks while he discreetly Magicked the bill back to the waitress.
"This is for you and your mother, Tonks. Like I said, I have way too much wine here, and I hardly ever come. Take it, enjoy it."
Once again she was left gaping at him, but they left a little while later, leading to Harry being forcefully pushed into a back street.
Tonks pounced on him, slamming him against the wall and attacking his neck while she quickly pulled away his shirt, trying to work on his trousers. Harry reciprocated, latching onto her neck and grinding himself against her core, drawing a moan that vibrated against his collarbone. He grabbed her shoulders, pulling her back a bit and trying to catch his breath.
"Wait, Tonks. Do you want to fuck in a dirty back street? I can take us to my place, hold on."
She just looked a bit sheepish while she grabbed his hand, landing a bit hard at the door to his tent.
"Sorry, I know its a... Well, a tent. I'm in the process of buying a home."
Tonks was about to reply when Little Harry ran across the living room with Millie on his shoulders and Iolanthe following him.
"Iolanthe, was he good? Did he eat? Did you eat? Harry, go lay down for a bit, I've got a friend."
"Yes, master, Tiny One ate and fed us. He woke just an hour ago and was unable to leave, so we... initiated a 'game.' Really, he just demanded I chase him."
Harry laughed and shooed Little Harry to his room, the 'tiny one' hissing all the way.
"What the fuck was that?! YOU HAVE A KID?!"
Harry rubbed the back of his head and smiled, gesturing to the couch and sitting with her.
"Not really. By the way, that was Parseltongue. He's my nephew. Harry Potter."
"Okay, you've gotta quit dropping shit on me like this. How about you fuck me now and we play Who The Hell Are You later?"
Harry smiled evilly and pushed Tonks against the couch, pulling away their clothes and settling in for a long, fun night.