Chapter 7: To Put The Wrong Things Right

Disclaimer: Relies a lot on several of the story lines that other people have written for 'Make a Wish.' Many of these can be found in the file section of my group. On fanfiction dot net, several can be found on author Chris Hill's page which is linked in my favorite authors section.

To Put The Wrong Things Right

Remus was walking down a newly discovered section of Black Fortress on the way to the "Three Witch Angels" headquarters - aka "3WA HQ" - when someone called his name.

"Remus," the tantalizingly familiar voice repeated, "it is you."

"Lily?" the werewolf choked out. "But . . . but . . ."

"Is something wrong?" Lily asked. "You're supposed to be babysitting Harry with Sirius."

"Just needed some time away from the kids eh?" James asked with a laugh.

"But . . ." Remus collapsed.

"I need a Healer," Lily screamed, as she saw he wasn't playing a prank. Remus' skin was paler then she'd ever seen it before and he was panting for breath. He was in such bad shape that he looked decades older to her eyes.

"Stay with us Remus," James yelled.

"But you're dead," Remus gasped before it all went dark.

IIIIIIIIII

Harry was kicked back and relaxed when the Professor ran in and bolted the door.

"Could I ask for your aid in resolving a situation?" the Professor asked with a nervous smile.

"What is it?" Harry replied.

"I am in a bit of a pickle," the Professor explained with a frown. "It is Henchgirl and my anniversary and I forgot to get her anything."

"Anniversary?" Harry asked dumbly, having never been in any relationship where he had a special date, with the exception of Voldemort and his followers' yearly attempts to rid Harry of his hated nickname, The-Boy-Who-Lived and even then Voldemort was in charge of planning the events and gifts on that day.

"Yes, the date that we met and decided to shatter the laws of nature and find out the things that man was not meant to know," the Professor said absently, "and she is quite cross with me."

"Oh . . . sucks to be you," Harry said with a shrug, knowing that despite their rather volatile relationship, Henchgirl wasn't likely to do anything permanent to her partner.

"Quite," the Professor agreed. "She has said that she will forgive me and not break both of my legs if I get her a massive thousand year old Basilisk . . . you wouldn't happen to know where I could find one would you?"

"Sorry," Harry replied. "Only one I knew about is dead."

"But you do know where it was before you killed it right?" the Professor asked with sudden intensity.

"Yes," Harry said slowly.

"You wouldn't mind . . . oh I don't know, jumping into another universe parallel to our own and getting it for me would you?"

"You remember what happened the last time," Harry growled.

"Yes I do," the Professor agreed. "And I think I've managed to fix that . . . the chances of you getting lost in the multiverse, inhabiting your younger body, and losing your hair are a mere ninety five percent . . . ninety nine point nine on the outside."

"What about just one of those things happening?" Harry sighed. "Or maybe two out of three?"

"Hmmm?" the Professor muttered absently. "Approaches one hundred, it's hard to be exact."

"Fine," Harry agreed. "Have everyone get everything I'll need together." Harry feigned indifference. Truthfully he liked these little field trips, but he wasn't about to let them know that because then they wouldn't put as much work into the few safety measures they used to lure him in with.

"Excellent," the Professor cheered, "you prepare your things and I shall prepare the transporter."

"Will do," Harry agreed. He left the Professor and was half packed when he got another visitor.

"Harry," Henchgirl whispered. "Can I talk to you?"

"Sure," Harry agreed. "What do you need?"

"You're already planning to . . . fix a few things in this world aren't you?" Henchgirl asked anxiously.

"Yes I am," Harry agreed. He didn't bother asking how the woman knew the details of the conversation he'd had with the Professor just a few minutes before or how she knew he had just decided he would be making major changes to the timeline. "It'll be nice to know that at least one world is . . . well I won't say perfect but at least a bit happier than here."

"Yes, about that," Henchgirl began. "You wouldn't mind changing one more thing would you?"

"What do you need?"

"Well . . ."

IIIIIIIIII

The Doctor double checked a few old records before making her way to the transportation chamber for a little discussion with the Professor.

"Can you do it?" she asked calmly, after he'd had a chance to go over the documents.

"Easily," the Professor scoffed, "in fact . . ."

"Do what?" the newly arrived Henchgirl interrupted.

"I had a request about the arrival point," the Doctor replied. She handed Henchgirl the old file.

"You . . ."

"Vic number five was a friend."

"I made a similar request," Henchgirl sighed. "Come on you troll, let's get everything set up before Mr. Black arrives."

"Already done you spiteful wench," the Professor replied cheerfully, "I didn't need your less then able help for such a simple task."

"Why you dirty . . ."

"Starting things without me?" Harry asked as he walked into the room.

"Hmm?" The Professor looked over. "Oh yes, we have a new device for you to try out on this trip."

"What device?"

"Here." Henchgirl handed him a small box.

"What's it do?" Harry pried open the box and peered inside.

"That small object that renders the killing curse . . . and all other curses for that matter, obsolete," the Professor said proudly.

"It also changes the very nature of dueling," Henchgirl added thoughtfully.

"Oh?" Harry asked with interest. "How does it work?"

"Well," the Professor began eagerly. "As you know, the flight path of curses is affected by gravity."

"Sure," Harry agreed. "Let's say I know that."

"We created a field to bend gravity around you to reflect curses back to their source," Henchgirl said proudly.

"Great," Harry cheered. "How do I eat?"

"Eat?"

"Or walk around without pushing things out of the way . . . does it reflect air?" Harry added with a sinking feeling.

The Professor and Henchgirl had a hurried conversation.

"You won't be able to eat, drink, or do much with it on," the Professor admitted with a frown. "But since we tied the enchantments to this stylish fountain pen who cares about not being able to eat or drink?"

"Can I at least turn it off?" Harry sighed. "And for that matter, what would happen if I used a curse or spell of my own?"

The Professor and Henchgirl had another hurried conversation in whispers.

"Why would you want to turn it off?" Henchgirl asked nervously. "It's not like you'd be trapped in it for all eternity . . . and even if you were, at least you'd be safe . . . you don't need food, water, or air anyway."

"Henchgirl . . ."

"Fine," the woman agreed with a pout. "We'll include an on off switch in the next design."

"Which will be the one you give me to use right?" Harry asked.

". . ."

"Henchgirl."

"Fine," Henchgirl agreed. "But if you get hurt, I'm going to make your potions taste anything but yummy."

"Agreed," Harry said. He handed the device back to the two crazed scientists. "Send me the new one when you perfect the off switch. What do I do now?"

"Just step onto the platform and stand in the middle of the circle," Henchgirl replied.

"In the middle of this thing that looks like a bulls eye?" Harry asked.

"Yup," Henchgirl said cheerfully.

"What are these brownish stains?" Harry asked. "They almost look like . . ."

"Bloodstains," the Professor agreed, "don't worry, we're fairly sure that we've solved that problem."

"If you say so."

"Ready?" Henchgirl asked.

"Ready," Harry agreed, figuring Fate wouldn't let him die in a simple experiment when there were so many other ways to screw with him if things worked as planned, "just where am I going to arrive anyway?"

"May I answer this one?" the Doctor asked.

"Go ahead," Henchgirl agreed.

"The roof of one of the stores on Diagon Alley about ten minutes before a rather momentous event."

"What event?" Harry asked.

"The day that the muggleborn population at Hogwarts was reduced to a handful," the Doctor replied, "a group of eight Death Eaters just happened to pick the day to attack that the Ministry had suggested Hogwarts conduct their muggleborn orientation day. Oddly enough, the Ministry had also suggested using older muggleborn students as guides."

The Doctor's smile turned cruel. "The alarm was never sounded, the merchants and purebloods didn't lift a finger to help, and no charges were ever filed. I lost a very good friend that day and would appreciate it if I didn't have to lose her again."

"Not to mention the fact that it would be a very good way to introduce this new dimension to Mr. Black," Henchgirl chirped, "gets things off to the right start so to speak."

"Fine," Harry agreed, "what do I do now?"

"Just step into the Quantum Accelerator and . . ." the Professor began.

"I thought we agreed to call it the Designated Dimensional Transporter?" Henchgirl asked.

"Turns out that acronym is already trademarked," the Professor explained. "It's that thing you do when you pick me up and slam me to the ground when I leave the cap off the tooth paste."

"Then we'll argue about the name later," Henchgirl said with a wave.

"What's the Quantum Accelerator?" Harry asked.

"That glowing thingy over there," Henchgirl replied.

"Then why did you tell me to stand on this target?"

"To keep you out of the way," Henchgirl said frankly, "wouldn't want you to accidentally wander into one of the ethereal streams or something would we?"

"I guess not," Harry agreed. He walked over to the odd device.

"Are you ready?" Henchgirl asked.

"Ready," Harry agreed.

"Contact." Henchgirl threw a switch which caused light to shoot across the room.

The last thing Harry remembered before the world went white was the sound of Henchgirl's maniacal laughter. Oddly enough he found the sound rather comforting.

Harry opened his eyes and looked down on an idyllic shopping scene. Mothers led their children from store to store while several students in Hogwarts robes made themselves available to answer questions.

"I'm here," Harry said into his zippo. "And I feel a draft."

"Hair restorer in your front pocket," Henchgirl said cheerfully.

"I also seem to be naked," Harry said mournfully, tapping his wand against his leg and feeling rather grateful he'd been prepared for something to go wrong and had kept his wand and zippo in hand.

"Oh yeah," the Professor mused. "I forgot about that feature. All true time-travelers travel naked, just find a biker and take his clothing."

"But he's not a time-traveler," Henchgirl protested. "He's a dimension hopper, it's completely different."

"Yes but it's a parallel dimension," the Professor rebutted. "So technically . . ."

"Technically my butt . . ."

"Henchgirl, there is no need to resort to such language."

"How about violence then you little troll . . ."

"Copyright infringement! Copyright infringement! Put me down!"

"Excuse me," Harry interjected. "I don't mean to interrupt, but could you please send me my clothes?"

"Sure, everything you were wearing is sitting in the hopper attached to the dimensional transport thingy just as they are supposed to be after a successful port." Henchgirl replied. "I'll send them to land right behind you. Now if you'll excuse us, we have to have a little discussion about the difference between D-hopping and time-travel."

"No," the Professor growled. "We have to have a little discussion about the importance of tradition and temporal theory."

"Right, Black out." Harry got dressed, checked his equipment, and settled down to wait. He really wasn't surprised that they'd designed the machine to strip the traveler naked based on an American movie's idea of timetravel.

IIIIIIIIIII

Adrenaline flooded Lucius's system as he arrived with his team. It was the first time he'd been placed in charge of a raid and he was determined to distinguish himself.

"Kill 'em all," Lucius commanded. He smiled at the groups of helpless muggles and students. "Filth like this has no place in our world."

He drew his wand and selected his target, a young girl of about five

years of age. Here on a shopping trip for an older sibling no doubt.

'Well . . . nits make lice and all that,' he thought to himself.

Lucius never saw the spell that killed him. One minute he was standing tall and the next he was laying on the ground trying to breathe through shredded lungs.

What had happened? Lucius wondered to himself. What had gone wrong?

IIIIIIIIIII

Harry calmly hit the last death eater in the back with what Henchgirl called the 'ball of razors' spell. Originally designed as a cooking spell that served much the same function as a food processor in the muggle world, Harry had found that it produced a rather spectacular effect when applied to a human body.

He stepped off the roof and almost negligently used another spell to slow his decent.

"Who . . . who are you?" one of the shocked bystanders asked in awe.

"People call me," Harry barely paused in his introduction as he ended the life of the one Death Eater that hadn't been killed outright with a quick cutting curse, "Mr. Black."

IIIIIIIIIII

Alice and Frank Longbottom were the first Aurors on the scene and what they found was carnage.

"What happened?" Frank asked, trying in vain to keep from stepping in

the scattered bits of Death Eaters.

"Death Eater attack," one of the muggleborn students replied, "we wouldn't have had a chance if the man in black hadn't saved us."

The student looked down at the Death Eaters with a sick expression on his face. "It was all over in less then two seconds. This one," he kicked the corpse of Lucius Malfoy before continuing, "was going to hex my younger sister when he bought it. I've . . . I've never seen anyone move so fast. Was he an Auror?"

"The man who saved you?" Frank clarified.

"Yeah."

"I don't think so," Frank said, "we were all in a meeting when this happened."

"What?" The student gaped. "But you were supposed to provide extra security for this . . . the Minister even said that this was too tempting a target without extra security, bloody hell it's the reason so many muggleborn agreed to be in one place."

"I know lad," Frank sighed, "our meeting was all about coordinating the extra security. You lot weren't even suppose to start showing up for another hour according to the ministry liaison."

"Then it's a damn good thing the man in black showed up," the student said firmly, "because the letter from the ministry says we're right on time."

"Yes," Frank agreed, "it is. He didn't happen to give his name did he?"

"Mr. Black," the student said, "and I wish there were ten more like him."

"So do I lad," Frank agreed. He flipped his notebook closed and walked over to his wife. "What've you got?"

"Death Eaters showed up, guy named Mr. Black kills them all, everybody is happy, the end. You?"

"Same same," he said, "next stop an interview with Sirius?"

"Unofficially," Alice agreed, "cause we don't want to make him a target. While you were doing that last interview some Ministry big shot showed up and began making noises about excessive force and making an example to show that this sort of thing can't be accepted in a polite society."

"What sort of thing, self defense?"

"That's how I took it," she said in a low tone, "bastard said it a bit too loud and I had to hustle him out before the crowd got ugly."

"So Sirius?"

"Sirius," she agreed.

IIIIIIIIIII

Douglas was not a happy wizard. Granted his wife had just given birth to identical twin girls, and granted he couldn't imagine being more content then he had been the first time he held them. You should wait, his friends had advised, you shouldn't bring children into this sort of world.

As the wards fell, he knew he should have listened to their advice.

"Take the girls and run!" he screamed, hoping desperately that his wife would listen. "I'll hold them off."

He'd gotten high marks in defense, time to see if it had been a waste of time to stay awake in DADA class, regardless of how much harder it had made him to prank.

IIIIIIIIIII

Sirius stared at his two friends as they asked him whether he'd had anything to do with the carnage in Diagon Alley that they'd just described to him.

"I'm telling you both that I was here with James and Lily the whole time," Sirius said firmly, "I wish I'd been at Diagon. Hell, I wish I could have taken out a group of Death Eaters as quickly as you say that guy did."

"But for once he's telling the truth," Lily interjected, "can you imagine Sirius being quiet about something like this?"

"He said his name was Mr. Black," Frank said, "any idea who it could have been?"

"No one from my family," Sirius said with a frown, "I'm the only one that would have and I couldn't even begin to think of who could have."

"Thank you for your time then," Alice said with a smile, "and thanks for looking after Neville while we're at work."

"No trouble at all," Lily said brightly, "it's nice for Harry to get a chance to have a playmate."

"Would you mind joining us for dinner later?" Frank asked. "We can't say when that will be, what with our odd hours, but we'd love to have you."

"You're of course welcome to come Sirius," Alice added.

"We'd love to come," Lily said, "just floo us when you get off work."

IIIIIIIIIII

Amelia Bones was the first Auror on the scene and was shocked beyond words to find a hyperventilating Doug Stavish standing over the bodies of three Death Eaters.

"What happened?" she asked carefully.

"I banished my chair at them and then flung every curse I could think of," he said dully, "I didn't know what else to do. I . . . I thought they'd block it or something, I . . ."

"Calm down," she said in a soothing voice, "it looks like a clear cut case of self defense to me."

"I just wanted to buy some time for my family," Doug continued, "I never thought I'd win."

"And a good thing you did," Amelia said in a low tone, "this way your children will have a father."

"This way my children will never make it to their second birthday," he snapped, "you know as well as I do what Death Eaters do to the families of people who successfully fight back!"

"Who said you resisted?" Amelia asked with a shrug. "Just this afternoon a wizard in black killed another group of Death Eaters that tried to attack Diagon Alley."

"Yeah," Doug agreed catching on quickly, "a wizard in black saved me. Used spells I'd never seen before."

"The one in Diagon said his name was Mr. Black," Amelia said with a smile, "do you think it was the same guy?"

"I'm sure of it," Doug agreed, "it couldn't have been anyone else. I certainly don't have the ability to win a duel against a single Death Eater, let alone three of them."

"Then that's what I'll put in my report," Amelia said, "alright?"

"Thank you," he sobbed, "thank you."

"Dont' thank me," Amelia said, "I didn't do anything. It was all the man in black."

"Right," he agreed, "all the man in black."

IIIIIIIIII

Fergus hated walking home after work but since he lived in a muggle neighborhood, he didn't have the option of using magical transport.

Why oh why did he choose to live in a bloody muggle area, he asked himself for the hundredth time. Because it was cheap, the answer rose from the depths of his subconscious.

"Bloody hell," he muttered to himself. "It's starting to rain."

Three quick steps took him to the shelter of the nearest overhang and he again cursed the necessity of living in a bloody muggle neighborhood.

"Are you going to buy a ticket?" the muggle behind the glass asked with a frown.

"Sure," Fergus agreed. "Why not, here you go."

The muggle frowned at the handful of loose change on the counter but handed over the ticket without comment, "first door on the left."

What the hell, Fergus thought to himself. Couldn't hurt to come in out of the cold for a few hours. The wizard walked into the theater and found himself a seat.

"Wake up," a whispered command woke Fergus from his slumber.

"Wha . . ."

"This is the best part," the voice replied. "Watch."

Fergus watched in fascination as the oddly dressed muggle on the screen flipped a large switch and called lightning down.

"Can muggles really do that?" Fergus asked in shock.

"Perhaps," the voice replied, "it's what I brought you here to see."

"Brought me here?" Fergus repeated dumbly.

"Yes," the voice agreed. "Without my intervention, you get back to your apartment before the rain starts and you repeat the same routine for several years until one day you can't take it anymore . . . to make a long story short, you and a friend end up watching this movie in several years and you decide to use magic to replicate the things you see here."

"So that's what I'm supposed to be doing with my life?" Fergus asked slowly.

"Perhaps," the voice replied, "who can say?"

"Well I'd assume you could, since you brought me here and implied it was what I was suppose to be doing with my life."

"Fine," the voice snapped, "it's what you were born to do."

"It's gotta be better then spell development," Fergus said with a shrug. "I thought that would be interesting but they never let us create just to create, they always want us to work on our assigned projects."

"And they always assign you to housecleaning charms," the voice continued. "They never let you do anything fun."

"Yeah," Fergus agreed.

"If you like," the voice said slowly. "I can help you change all that."

"I'd like," Fergus agreed. "Thank you, Mister?"

"Black," Harry said. "Mister Black . . . I think we have a lot to talk about."

IIIIIIIIII

Albus wanted to cry as he looked around the Order meeting, so many empty seats, so many witches and wizards lost against the dark.

"Is there any new business?" Albus asked.

"Thirty two dead tangos," Mad Eye said cheerfully, "all at the hands of a wizard calling himself Mr. Black."

"What?" Albus asked in shock.

"Blitzed the group that showed up to muggleborn day," Moody explained, "then interrupted a few home invasions. Residents at each house swear that it was a wizard in black that did it, matches the description of the first guy."

"I had another call before I came here," another Auror spoke up, "Martin Blankwell was attacked by Death Eaters."

"The dueling champion?"

"The same," the Auror agreed, "claims that he was saved by the mysterious man in black also." The Auror saw no need to mention the fact that Mr. Blankwell had been 'attacked' by Death Eaters four other times that day, some men had the worst luck.

"Find out what you can about this Mr. Black," Albus ordered. 'More death,' he thought to himself, 'if they're on our side or theirs it still means children without parents and parents without sons and daughters. When will it all end?'

IIIIIIIIII

Voldemort growled as he listened to the reported losses.

"I want you to find this Mister Black and I want you to bring me his head," the Dark Lord ordered.

"Yes master," the lackey simpered. 'Like Hell,' the man thought to himself.

He'd hadn't joined the Death Eaters to risk himself like that. He'd joined for the feeling of power he got when he cursed a helpless victim. "As you command."

Let the others take care of this dangerous new adversary. It was an attitude that was shared by many, perhaps most of his fellow Death Eaters.

IIIIIIIIII

Meredith was a happy young girl.

Today she was going out shopping with her older brother, the best Potions master in the world and she couldn't wait to get to the shop.

Her brother hadn't wanted her to come. He'd said that the best shops were in the worst part of town and that it was no place for a little girl that wasn't even old enough to go to school, but she had whined and complained until he finally relented.

Her Brother was nervous but Meredith could never be, not when she had her brother to protect her.

"Death Eaters," her brother hissed as a group of masked men appeared in the street. "What're they doing here?"

"What're Death Eaters?" Meredith whispered.

"Group of morons from England that think Muggles should be killed," her brother replied. "We're just going to back out of here and call the . . ."

One of the Death Eaters noticed the duo and threw a spell at them.

"Meredith, run!" her brother screamed. "I'll hold them off, don't look back, just run!"

Tears blurred the young girl's eyes as she followed her brother's instructions. The screams she heard behind prompted her to run faster.

She hated herself for running, she hated herself for not being able to protect her brother. Rushing around the corner, she ran into a tall man in black.

"No!" she screamed. "Don't hurt me!"

"It's alright," the man in black replied. "I'm here now."

"Who're you?" Meredith asked.

"No one important," the man replied. "Most people call me . . . Mr. Black."

"We have to go help my brother," Meredith said quickly. "Please."

"As you wish," Harry agreed. Harry lifted the small girl up on his shoulders and ran towards the sounds of battle.

Meredith cringed when she saw her brother on the ground surrounded by a group of Death Eaters. "That's my brother on the ground."

"Let's even the odds a bit shall we?" Harry suggested, "close your eyes."

A dozen quick cutting curses decapitated eleven Death Eaters and Harry shook his head in sorrow as he looked at the remains of Death Eater number twelve. "Guess that's another one that'll be kept out of the hunt on a technicality."

"Who're you?" one of the two surviving Death Eaters screamed.

"Reducto." Harry reduced the number to one with a spell to the head. "Mr. Black . . . and I don't like Death Eaters."

"Oh god." The Death Eater frantically activated his emergency portkey.

"Goodbye," Harry flung another spell. "Damn . . . only winged him."

"Thank you," the man on the ground managed to groan. "For saving my sister and for saving me."

"Happy to help," Harry said cheerfully. "Anyone would have done the same."

"I beg to disagree," the man replied. "Most people don't like to be involved."

"I suppose," Harry commented. "Here is your sister back, take care of her she has the potential to be a great Potions Mistress . . . among other things." He slipped the note into her pocket as he set her down.

"I will," the man agreed quickly. "May I ask your name so that I may know the name of the man to whom my family owes so great a debt?"

"Mr. Black," Harry replied. "Just Mr. Black. And there is no debt involved."

"There's never any debt between family," he murmured, too quietly for them to hear, as he vanished.

IIIIIIIIII

Amelia looked up as a particularly smug looking Auror walked into the breakroom.

"What is it?" she prompted.

"Add two more to the tally," the Auror said.

"What tally?"

"Mister Black waxed the Sanderson twins," the Auror explained.

"Aren't they the ones that killed your brother?"

"We were never able to prove that," the Auror said calmly, "not that it matters any more."

"No," Amelia agreed, "I suppose it doesn't."

"Add another thirteen," another Auror said as he walked into the breakroom, "Irish say that he got another thirteen in Dublin. Wiped out an entire strike team before they even knew he was there."

"This guy is everywhere." Amelia paused to think. "I'll be on my lunch break for the next hour."

"Need any company?" one of the others asked. "I'm feeling a mite hungry myself."

"And it'd be nice to get away from the office," a third agreed.

IIIIIIIIII

Sirius was in the middle of an 'important' mission for Dumbledore when he was set upon by a group of Death Eaters.

"Prepare to die Sirius," the leader of the group of thirty Death Eaters said menacingly.

"That's Mr. Black to you," Sirius replied defiantly. He ground his teeth, it was an ambush.

"Mr. Black you say?" one of the death eaters asked. "On second though . . .uh . . . I have a meeting with my wife that I must attend."

"I have to do my taxes," another volunteered.

"Garden degnoming."

"Root canal."

"I really should give my wife a break and change the triplet's diapers for the next few months," another mused.

"And I need to . . . do something in . . . Siberia."

"Me too."

"Yeah."

Sirius watched in shock as the Death Eaters made their excuses and disappeared.

"Lily is behind this," Sirius muttered to himself. "Still angry about the time she caught me putting monitoring charms on their shower and didn't believe my excuse that I was peeping on James . . . or maybe she did believe the excuse and got jealous . . . hmmmm."

IIIIIIIIII

A gorgeous platinum haired beauty walked into her father's office with a bored look on her face.

"What is it daddy?" she asked.

"Your cousin Lucius has met with some misfortune," the man said impassively.

"I'm supposed to care?"

"You're supposed to realize that you will have to give up your silly idea of becoming a Healer," he said firmly, "you have a responsibility to the family now and . . ."

"And I still don't care," the girl interrupted, "care to tell me how cousin Lucius died?" She smiled. "I didn't think so. The truth is that you don't have much of a choice. You can either work to get me disinherited or you can pretend that you support my career choice."

"How dare . . ."

"Goodbye daddy," the girl said with an impish smile, "have a good day."

"Imp . . ."

"Before you do that," the girl's wand appeared in her hand, "maybe you'd like to take a look at this business card I received earlier today."

Her father's face turned almost as white as his hair as he took the card with trembling hands.

"P . . . p . . . perhaps," he stuttered, "perhaps it would be good for the family to produce a healer."

IIIIIIIIII

Harry reached into his pocket to pull out his buzzing zippo and flipped open his portable floo with one hand.

"Black."

"We've included the modifications you asked for in the fountain pen," Henchgirl's voice said unhappily, "and we're sending it though."

"Thanks Henchgirl," Harry said gratefully.

"Don't thank me," Henchgirl growled, "pity yourself if you get hurt because you made me put in this stupid off switch."

"Black out," Harry said. It was like she thought he couldn't stay out of trouble and . . . best to end that thought there.

IIIIIIIIII

Sirius couldn't remember how long it had been since he'd willingly walked up to his parents door without planning a prank of some sort. He sneered at the house elf who arrived to take his coat, he didn't plan to stay that long.

"Why did you summon me mother?" Sirius growled.

"Son . . . we've been thinking," the old woman began. "Muggles aren't so bad after all."

"I always liked them," Trixie volunteered. "They're so . . . cuddly?"

"And huggable," Narcissa added.

"And well . . . how would you like to be the new head of the family?" his mother asked hopefully.

"Um . . . ok."

"Excellent," Narcissa said. "Trixie has already divorced her husband and I'm a widow. Would you consider allowing my son to carry the Black name?"

"Uh . . . sure," Sirius agreed.

It would take him months before he believed James when the man protested that he and Lily had nothing to do with any of the things that had happened on the weirdest day of Sirius's life.

IIIIIIIIII

Fear gripped James Potter's heart as the wards reported that an enormously powerful mage had just brushed them aside like cobwebs.

"Voldemort," Lily gasped.

"Take Harry and run!" he screamed at his wife. "I'll hold him off as long as I can!"

Lily ran up the stairs to the nursery as James prepared for the fight of his life.

"Petrificus Totalus."

James locked up and fell to the floor. He felt sick, his wife and baby were going to die and he hadn't even managed to put up a bloody bit of resistance.

Two large boots stepped over James and took his former place at the door.

James watched in despair as the door burst open to admit the Dark Lord Voldemort.

James watched in confusion as Voldemort cast the killing curse at the man in black, the man James had thought was one of the Dark Lord's followers.

And finally, James watched in shock as the killing curse seemed to whip around the man in black and back at the Dark Lord.

"And that takes care of that," Harry muttered as he secured Voldemort's wand. "For now anyway," he added.

"Nunngggg," James tried to scream as the man in black turned and began walking up the stairs towards the nursery.

IIIIIIIIII

Tears blurred her eyes as Lily cast every last bit of protection magic she knew.

The heavy footsteps coming up the stairs told her everything she needed to know. James was dead and Voldemort was coming to extinguish the last bit of the Potter line.

She whirled around to face the door, resolved to sell her life dearly in defense of her son and she nearly dropped her wand in shock when she heard a polite knock on the door.

"Voldemort's dead," a muffled voice announced, "James is safe and I'd like to have a word with you."

"What is it?" Lily asked suspiciously.

"It concerns your son and a certain prophecy," the voice replied.

"Come in with your hands up and your wand in your pocket," Lily ordered.

"Alright," the voice agreed.

The knob slowly turned and the door creaked open to reveal a man in black with an unremarkable face.

"What do you want to tell me?" Lily demanded.

"I've ruined a great deal of planning today," Harry said with a pleased grin, "you were supposed to die along with your husband."

"I know that," Lily snapped.

"What you don't know is that your baby would have lived," Harry continued, "first time on record a killing curse was blocked. It made him famous, a hero to the world."

"And an orphan," Lily added.

"Who was taken from his godfather and placed with your sister," Harry continued, "he lived a very difficult life."

"Get to the point," Lily ordered. She did not like this man in black, there was something about him that confused her motherly instincts.

"Voldemort isn't quite dead yet," Harry said simply, "he'll be back and the world will convince themselves that a boy will be their savior. They'll decide that they can sit idle while an untrained boy faces a man so skilled in the dark arts that he's able to escape death himself, for a time."

"What happens to my baby?" Lily demanded. "Tell me!"

"That's up to you," Harry said calmly, "will you allow them to do this to your son?"

"Never," Lily said fiercely.

"One more thing."

"What is it?"

"Prophecies are for the weak, people too cowardly to take control of their own destiny." With that, Harry disappeared leaving only a business card laying on the ground to show that he had ever been there.

"James," Lily sobbed. She gathered up her child and ran down the

stairs.

Her heart almost stopped when she saw him on the ground, it was only the steady rise and fall of his chest that prevented her from bursting into tears.

"Get away from them," Sirius screamed his battle cry as he burst through one of the windows, "how about . . ." he trailed off when no enemies seemed to present themselves. "James." Sirius rushed to the side of his fallen brother.

"How is he?" Lily asked.

"Just petrified," Sirius said in relief. A quick counter curse had the man on his feet. "What happened."

"The man in black," James said breathlessly, "he killed Voldemort."

IIIIIIIIII

Celebrations rocked the United Kingdoms' small magical society when news of Voldemort's death broke.

"Mr. Black has saved us all," a drunken witch screamed.

Most of the revelers were polite enough to, at least outwardly, accept the Potter family's insistence that the mysterious Mysterious Black had saved them all. Privately, well that was another thing entirely and not something to be discussed in polite company.

While most of their friends celebrated, the Longbottoms were in a bit of a pickle.

"Just tell me where my master is," Severus purred, "and this can all be over."

"We don't know," Frank screamed in an attempt to distract the insane man away from his wife and son, "even if we did . . ."

"CRUCIO," Severus incanted. He held the charm for several seconds. "Would you like to try again?"

"Is this a private party?" another voice rasped from the shadows. "Or can anyone join?"

"Who's . . ."

Severus screamed as a mysterious and presumably caustic liquid hit him in the face. He'd found a measure of redemption in the last world, he'd never get a chance to look in this one.

"One."

Barty Crouch collapsed in pain as his kidneys exploded.

"Two."

The Lestrange brothers wildly cast hexes into the darkness in a vain attempt to hit, or at least slow down their attacker.

Rabastan's wand clattered to the ground as the blood seeping from every pore in his body ruined his grip.

"Three."

"What do you want?" Rodolphus sobbed. In seconds, he'd seen his brother, and partners reduced to quivering wrecks by an unseen attacker.

Rodolphus' world dissolved into pain as his immune system turned against the rest of the body.

"Four."

"Who are you?" Frank called out.

"Me?" Harry laughed. "I'm just a guy doing a favor for a friend."

IIIIIIIIII

Sirius was in Diagon Alley looking for the Longbottoms after a tip from his newly divorced cousin that there was going to be an attack on the family of Aurors. All seemed lost when he caught a flicker of

movement in the corner of his eye.

Cautiously, the man drew his wand and crept into the narrow passageway. Dozens of skirmishes and years of training did nothing to prepare him for what he was about to find.

A chorus of screams hit Sirius the moment he crossed the boundary of the silencing charm.

"What the hell happened here?" Sirius mumbled in shock as he took in the scene of carnage.

"Sirius?"

He whirled around to find Alice cradling Frank's head in her lap.

"Alice?" Sirius rushed to her side. "What happened?"

IIIIIIIIII

Selene Lovegood was in her kitchen preparing lunch when she got an odd feeling that she was not alone.

"Who's there?" she asked nervously.

"Next time ask with a hex," a strange voice rasped, "sorry to barge in like this but the door was open."

"What do you want?"

"A conversation."

She turned to find a man in black standing in the doorway.

"Mister Black, I presume?"

"You presume correctly." Harry coughed into his hand, it came away red. "Damn, looks like I did break those ribs."

"Voldemort?" the woman asked sympathetically.

"Slipped in the shower last night," Harry replied with a grimace. "Embarrassing."

"You killed Voldemort with broken ribs?" she asked flatly.

"He was mostly reputation," Harry said quickly. "But that's not important. Look at me."

"I am looking at you," she said dryly.

"Not like that, use your . . . heh . . . inner eye."

"That's one pick up line I haven't heard," she said with a grin. "Fine, why not. But I think I should tell you that I'm in a relationship with . . . oh god."

"I shared a bit of the future with Lily Potter and I'm going to share a piece with you," Harry continued.

"No, please I don't want to hear it." The shaking woman tried to back away.

"It's about your daughter," Harry persisted. "Conceived about two months ago, when you and your husband were playing Naughty Headgirl and Perverted Prefect."

"Daughter?"

"Luna was a wonderful child but a bit . . . loopy," Harry explained. "She could never get over your death."

"My . . . death."

"An accident when you were researching a new spell," Harry said. "She watched you die."

"What should I do?"

"I'd advise you to keep someone on hand the next time you do something so dangerous," Harry said. "Or not, it's your decision."

"So if I don't then I die?"

"Perhaps, the future isn't written yet."

"Who should I have backing me?"

"I can't say . . . unless."

"Unless what?"

"Want a job, discovering things man was not meant to know? It has full medical and dental."

Mrs. Lovegood smiled dreamily. "Well seeing as how I'm a woman that shouldn't be a problem."

Harry stared at the woman for a moment before shrugging, worked for him.

IIIIIIIIII

Dumbledore stumbled into his office after a night of heavy celebration. The Dark Lord was deadish and the prophecy could be put off for another decade or so.

"Really must remember to keep an eye on young Harry," Dumbledore muttered to himself, "really must."

"Learn to be a Headmaster," a dark voice interrupted. "I gave you a second chance, see that you use it. If I should decide to come back, I would be most displeased to learn that you sat by and did nothing while Voldemort mustered the resources needed to come back."

"What do you mean?"

"Voldemort will be back and I will not deal with him for you a second time. Rather then blindly following prophecy, rather then placing the fate of the world on the shoulders of a child, why don't you clean up your own mess? Voldemort was your creation, you deal with him. If you don't, then I shall deal with you."

"Who's there?" Dumbledore demanded. The old man drew his wand and did a slow spin around.

"Just a man here to pick up a pet," the voice echoed in the empty room.

"Show yourself," Dumbledore ordered.

The only reply he got was a mocking laughter that filled the room.

A thorough search of the room turned up nothing to suggest that his visitor had ever existed save for a note pinned to his pillow. It said; Second chances are wonderful things. I would suggest that you try giving them to the good guys.

IIIIIIIIII

"And that's what happened," the still shaking Remus explained, "how can you even be here?"

"They are here because all things are possible on Mister Black's Island," the Doctor said as she walked up and checked Remus' chart. "The laws of time, space, even reality mean nothing here."

She glanced over at a pair of young interns fussing over a patient. "You can meet lost loved ones or accidentally wander into another reality." She laughed. "Or turn the corner and come face to face with another version of yourself."

'Or employ a younger version of yourself as an intern,' the Doctor added in her mind.

"Is Remus going to recover?" Lily asked nervously.

"He'll be fine," the Doctor replied, "physically. Mentally on the other hand . . ."

"Mentally?"

"I imagine that it's going to be some time before people stop laughing at the idea the leader of the 3WA fainting like that," the Doctor laughed, "a very long time."

AN: Dogbertcarroll added a bit of polish to this and a bit here and there. As a matter of fact I'm quite sure he deserves to have 'The great' added just before his name.

AN: He also edits my author's notes.

Omake for 'To Put the Wrong Things Right'

Harry looked around and was rather surprised to find himself in the Department of Mysteries and in the midst of a battle.

After absently casting a summoning charm to save his godfather, he summoned his scythe and removed the heads of the nearest Death Eaters.

With a sigh, Harry took in the situation. His friends had sent him to the wrong time, and he was the center of attention. Well, nothing for it but to finish up here and be on his way.

"Now you know," Harry said with a frown, "where I'm from it's not considered polite to possess young wizards, not at all the sort of thing a gentleman does."

"Who are you?" Voldemort hissed. "And how were you able to sever my connection with the boy?"

"The name's Mister Black," Harry replied as he separated the Dark Lord's head from its body. "And I'm just a guy who took a wrong turn at Albuquerque."

Everyone in the department fearfully watched as the man who identified himself as Mr. Black reached into his pocket.

"Hey Harry," Harry said as he threw a zippo at his counterpart. "Directions are on the side, ask for Henchgirl or the Doctor if you need anything or just want to talk. Now if you all will excuse me," Harry pulled out his own zippo and whispered something into it. "I must be on my way."

They watched in shock as the stranger disappeared in a flash of light and all eyes turned to Dumbledore.

"Who was he Professor?" Tonks asked.

"A legend," Dumbledore gasped. "One I never believed to be real until today," he continued, absently stroking his wand.

AN: Fics, Author's Notes, and Omake. Dogbertcarroll does it all. He also writes some great fics, go to my favorite Authors section, click on his name, and check his stuff out.

The other Omake for 'To Put the Wrong Things Right'

"Did you make it this time?" Henchgirl's voice asked through the floo.

"Still a bit late," Harry said as he looked at the group of people gathered in the distant grave yard. "Give me a few minutes."

"Ok."

"Kill the spare," Voldemort's voice echoed.

"Yes master."

Harry quickly summoned the headstone belonging to one of Voldemort's ancestors to intercept the deadly curse.

"I just can't catch a break can I?" Harry muttered. "Reducto."

The two boys watched in shock as Wormtail's head turned into a fine pink mist.

"Uh . . . what now?" Cedric asked.

"How about we see if this bloody portkey will take us back?" Harry suggested.

Harry watched as his counterpart disappeared and strolled up to the Dark Lord's current form.

"Who are you?" Voldemort demanded weakly.

"Mr. Black," Harry said with a grin. "And these boots were made for stompin." A quick cleaning charm and zippo call later, Harry was again on his way to the past.

Omake: Another wrong turn in time by migeleelrubio

Mr Black stared.

The basilisk stared back.

Mr Black started to frown.

The basilisk started to cringe and hiss,"I'm to young to die."

"Can't I ever catch a break?"

A completely frightened basilisk slivered over the diary, incidentally crushing it, destroying the young Riddles ghost and waking Ginny.

"I mean come on, nothing but a phoenix is supposed to able to ignore a bas ... oh hell."

Harry wasn't sure what was going on, but that ranting figure just scared a basilisk, and won the staring match. Nope can't forget that.

"Harry, Ginny follow me and I'll get you out." Mr. Black decided. "After this I really need another vacation."

IIIIIIIIIII

"He said he was Mister Black and that he needed a vacation."

"Mr Black you say?" one of the portraits squeaked.

As everyone stared at it, it began to speak once more, "about 600 years ago I came upon a small parchment, it said that it was Mr Black that taught Merlin magic after taking pity on him and liking his food."

"So I was saved by someone who taught magic to the greatest wizard we know of and scared a basilisk almost to death," Ginny concluded.

"well is seems like it, but why would a person like that ..."

Little Ginny decided one thing, her crush was nice. That person saved her for some reason. That meant that she had a reason to live, or was it that he saved Harry? "Harry, when you turn 16 you will marry Hermione and me, he saved us both after all, I won't dream parting you with Hermione."

Jealousy was kinda unimportant when saw someone who stared at a basilisk like at a kitten who ate a goldfish, and ignored the Lord Voldemort.

My Note, I'm not the author so it's not an AN: polish by Dogbertcarroll here too.

Back In Black Omake

Omake: Big Appetite

Harry walked into the Big Texan Steakhouse with an empty belly and three days of sleep to take care of.

"What'll it be, sir?"

"Give me the biggest steak you've got," Harry said sleepily.

"You want to take the seventy two ounce challenge then?"

"Whatever," Harry agreed, "just get it here fast."

"Right away sir." They tossed the steak on the grill and set it in front of Harry a couple minutes later. "Something wrong sir?"

"That's kinda big," Harry said in disappointment, "I guess."

"You guess?"

"I'm gonna need at least one more of these," Harry replied, "be good enough to cook it up while I eat this."

"If you want." The staff watched in shock as Harry downed the steak in record time, then the next, and the one after that.

"That's the stuff," Harry said with a satisfied burp, "how much do I owe you?"

"No charge sir . . ."

"Huh?" Harry asked in shock, he'd head that the people in Texas were friendly . . . something he hadn't been able to experience on his first pass through the state. "You sure?"

"You passed the challenge . . . three times, your meal is free."

"Thanks then," Harry said as he gathered his things, "you know where I can get a room around here?"

"I'll draw you a map, just . . ."

"Yeah?"

"What's your name? So we can put it on the wall."

"It's Black," Harry replied to the suddenly frozen cook, "Mister Black."

AN: They had a thing on steakhouses on the travel channel. Mmmmm, meat. More polish by Dogbertcarroll here too.

Omake: The Last Starfighter

Harry sat in the cockpit of a futuristic space ship and wondered how he'd gotten himself into this situation.

Oh right, he was an idiot.

Harry had learned his lesson on his last vacation, no vacations meant no crazy coincidences, no being attacked by villains for no reason, and absolutely no excitement.

All he'd wanted was a nice quiet outing, just a few hours to himself.

He should really have known better.

He had left the island with the intention of having a nice quiet afternoon doing whatever it was people his theoretical age were supposed to do.

He'd arrived in a small town in California and after a few hours of scratching his head, he realized that he had no idea what kids did.

Three hours of research later and he learned that they liked to play video games at arcades.

"What is it?" the unmotivated teen behind the counter asked.

"What is it?" The unmotivated teen behind the counter asked.

"I need some coins," Harry said laying a couple of bills on the counter. "And some advise."

"What?"

"Which game is fun?"

"Try that one over there," the teen said with an annoyed sigh.

"Thanks," Harry said. He gathered up the coins and went to the recommended game. "The Last Starfighter huh?"

After three hours of play, Harry still had no idea what he was supposed to be doing. He just hit buttons and moved the joy stick around, whatever he was doing seemed to be working since the game had yet to ask for another coin.

"Woah," the pimply teen that had suggested the game gasped, "you're gonna beat the record."

"Is that good?"

"It's great . . . what level do you have it set on?"

"Level?"

"Let me see . . . extra hard? I've never seen anyone get past the first stage on extra hard, how much has it cost you so far?"

"Only the one coin," Harry replied. He still hadn't figured out how they made any money on these things.

Long story short, a creepy guy showed up and had somehow managed to talk Harry into coming with him on an adventure.

"Glory for you and profit for me," the man said grandly, "just go out on a training flight and see how you like it."

"I don't know," Harry muttered, "my friends are going to come looking for me if I don't get back soon."

"Just a short flight and then we can go back to assure your friends that you're alright."

"Fine," Harry agreed. Chances were that the team from Black Ink was on its way anyway. "Where do I go?"

"With this gentleman over here," the man said with an oily smile, "there you go."

"I will be your navigator," the scaly gentleman said with a salute, "it is an honor to work with you."

IIIIIIIIII

"We just have to sit here and hope they don't notice us," the navigator whispered, "shut off your systems."

"Right," Harry agreed. He reached down to shut off the power and winced when the ship launched a missile towards the enemy dreadnought. "Oops."

"Oops? Well . . . I suppose we were going to die anywa . . . my god," the alien choked.

They watched in shock as the missile miraculously flew into a two meter exhaust port and destroyed the ship.

"Well . . . that's not something you see everyday."

"Let's get back to base."

AN: polish by Dogbertcarroll here too.

Omake by Awlric Hayell

Profile: u/1048146/

I'm sorry, but I thought of this in Boot camp and it had to be done.

Harry sighed again as he surveyed over new acquisition. It was nothing much really, just a valley. It was the name of the valley and how it came into his possession that had him wondering if he had a curse on him. Perhaps that Chinese one about 'living in interesting times' that he'd read about once.

Oh, it was surprisingly simple for him to obtain the deed to this particular patch of land. After all, how many demons would willingly tangle with the infamous Mister Black? But this was just ridiculous! He had only wanted a drink and that damn Lucifer had up and given it and the deed to him without so

much as a 'by your leave.' And that name...

"Yea, and though I walk through the valley of the Shadow of Death, I shall fear no evil, cause I own the damn place," Harry muttered exasperatedly as he ran a hand through his messy hair. "Why can't I ever have a normal vacation?"

My Note, I'm not the author so it's not an AN: polish by Dogbertcarroll here too.

Omake by lucindas43302

Doctor Bunsen Honeydew looked up at the black-clad man who had just stepped out of a swiftly closing portal. He seemed... rather indescribably ordinary, and quite calm.

He clearly did not belong in Muppet Labs.

Pitching his voice to carry, Bunsen asked, "Excuse me, sir, but are you lost?"

"No, I'm just a guy on vacation," the man replied. "And you don't need to call me sir. I'm Mr. Black."

Frowning, Bunsen tried to remember where he'd heard that name. It sounded familiar...

"Mep meep meeep!" Beaker shouted, running into the room, his eyebrows smoking. "MEEEP!"

Mr. Black made a few gestures, and a slight shimmer blocked the doorway that Beaker had just ran through. The inevitable explosion was trapped behind the shimmer.

"I hope I haven't interrupted anything particularly unstable, I know how labs can be," Mr. Black offered.

"Meep mee meep meep," Beaker gestured back at the shimmer, now blocking a roiling mass of orange and red smoke.

"Really? The Count is in? I wouldn't have expected him to be so far from home," the man sounded surprised. "I haven't seen my friend in quite a while."

"Meep me mee meep, meep." Beaker insisted, and gestured back at the smoke. "Meep meep."

"Did you help Kermit figure out his medication?" Bunsen asked, trying to figure out who the stranger could be and just how he knew the dangerous vampire. "You do know that he's a vampire?"

"Of course he's a vampire," the man waved his hand, and the smoke swirled and condensed into a large red and orange streaked marble. "But why on earth would he be taking medication?"

"err..." Bunsen removed his glasses and scrubbed at them, stalling for time.

"Nevermind, I'm sure he can explain. I've got plenty of time," the man turned and walked off towards the room where the Count had dragged all the ledgers.

"I come back to visit and my friend's started taking medication. What next?"

"Beaker, perhaps it's time for us to go out somewhere else for lunch?" Bunsen looked over at his assistant, who was trembling.

"Meep meep meep."

"Dinner then. Somewhere away from the lab and in the fresh air," Bunsen shivered. "We should give them time to catch up on past events."

For the first time, Doctor Bunsen Honeydew felt fear as he left his laboratory.

End: Visiting Friends.

My Note, I'm not the author so it's not an AN: polish by Dogbertcarroll here too.

Omake by awl_hayell

Now I know this is really really really late, but I had to do it when I re-read the chapter. (chapter 2, by the way)

True Omake Time! This is what could have happened had Harry been feeling playful.

"Sure," Harry nodded then added hopefully, "I don't suppose that you could take my statement while I got something to eat?"

"So long as you aren't with them," the man motioned towards the Death Eaters, "then you can give your statement standing on your head Mr.?"

"Black," Harry gave his most charming smile, "may I lower my arms, they're starting to cramp."

"You may," The woman nodded,"I am Staatstovenaar Annie Van Der Mijer, could you tell me what happened here?"

Harry opened his mouth to reply, paused as an insanely hilarious idea ran through his mind, then grinned mischievously. "Could you wait for just one moment?"

"Whenever you're ready," Annie granted him, looking confused.

"Thanks." In an impressive feat of acrobatics, Harry flipped into a handstand and slowly lowered himself until he was standing on his head. "Well, I was just sitting down for lunch when...what?"

Annie struggled to keep from laughing out loud at the powerful and obviously crazy man. "Nothing...nothing. *snirk* Go on."

My Note, I'm not the author so it's not an AN: polish by Dogbertcarroll here too.

AN: Dogbertcarroll did a lot of editing on this. Anyone who's on my group can attest to the fact that the majority of things I post are riddled with errors and typos. They in general and Dogbertcarroll in particular are responsible for the fact that this is even readable. Props to them. Merry christmas to all to all a good night.