2 Harry Potter 1

As neither Dumbledore nor Michael wished to discuss those topics out in the open, the old man brought him over to Hogwarts. Their walk to the school was spent in silence. Dumbledore was working his mind, trying to figure out who this kid, who knew too much, was and what was his game.

Michael, meanwhile, observed the surroundings and studied them carefully. The large body of water they passed gave him a peaceful sense. Though Michael did spot a dark shadow underneath. The forest next to it, on the other hand, gave him a much more dangerous feeling. Mostly since Michael's body was currently that of a kid and quite weak. The place however, would be a suitable spot to sharpen on his skills. The years of solitude and imprisonment hadn't been kind to him in that regard.

Further down the path, they passed through slopping lawns and flowerbeds. The place was full of greenery, making him think. 'The demons would love to seep the life of this place. While the Wood Elves, the racists cunts, would thrive here.'

Finally, they arrived in front of the magnificent castle. Honestly, Hogwarts looked much more beautiful than he imagined it. Then again, Michael didn't spend that much time thinking about it. He still hadn't processed the fact that he was in a fictional world, more specifically one that he knew. After being thrown in a fictional world once before, the feeling wasn't as novel.

Stepping inside the hall, Michael couldn't stop himself from staring at the ceiling. It almost felt like he was looking at the sky, but he was sure that was not the case. The magic users he knew would never bother creating something that looked so beautiful. They preferred functionality over looks.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Asked Dumbledore. "I've seen this piece of magic thousands of times, but I still keep admiring it every time my eyes gaze at it."

"It's… not bad." Admitted Michael before shaking his head and following after the old man. He was also someone that preferred functionality over looks, but the ceiling truly was beautiful. Dumbledore hummed in response, but said nothing else.

Their walk through the castle hallways continued until they reached a stone gargoyle. It moved to the side the moment Dumbledore stepped in front of it, revealing the spiraling stairs behind it. Climbing up the stairs, they entered a large circular room and Michael looked around, almost in wonder.

Many small magical artifacts were placed on a number of shelves, all of them were making weird noises and some were emitting puffs of smoke. This was something Michael had expected. He had seen similar rooms in wizards or mages' towers. Though the magical artifacts there had been much more… extraordinary looking. The ones in Dumbledore's office looked practically harmless. Not that he was going to test out his theory by touching them or something.

However, what really caught Michael's attention were the amount of books there. Rolls and rolls of bookshelves all filled to them brim with knowledge. Now that was a new sight to him. The magical users he knew off might place their artifacts on display, but they would never ever do the same with their books. Knowledge was power to a wizard or a mage. Their books and scrolls were always stashed and protected in secure places where only they knew off. They would be absolutely abhorred by the scene in Dumbledore's office with all of them put on display like that.

The portraits on the walls also caught Michael's attention. He'd noticed it during their walk, but people in the paintings kept silently staring at him, their eyes following him the entire time. An interesting observation system, but it would be a true work of art if those portraits carried the memories of the actual people. Even in death, they would be able to pass down their legacy to the new generation. The magicals of Liorderat probably had the means to create something similar, but they would never even consider it. They hoarded knowledge and preferred to keep it to themselves.

Dumbledore walked towards the desk in the middle of the room. By just pointing his wand, he conjured a comfy-looking chair in front of it as he passed it. Dumbledore sat behind the desk and looked at Michael with a raised eyebrow. He was simply standing next to the conjured chair without even considering sitting on it. Both stayed quiet for a moment, simply observing the other.

"The silent treatment." Chuckled Michael. "Interesting interrogation technique. Though it loses its novelty after the first time."

"You've been interrogated before." Stated Dumbledore. Michael just stared at him, refusing to confirm or deny. Not that it wasn't obvious.

Letting out a sigh, Dumbledore leaned back. A piece of candy from a bowl on the desk flew up and jumped in his mouth. A small smile formed on the old man's face, clearly enjoying the sugary sweet.

"Lemon drops?" Questioned Dumbledore, and the bowl of candy floated in the air, moving close enough to Michael for him to take one out.

"I'll pass." Replied Michael. He didn't trust Dumbledore enough to sit in his conjured chair, so taking one of his candies was out of the question. Frankly, Michael just didn't trust anyone. Even the overseer, especially him, but Thirteen seemed desperate. Or at least he looked like it. They were in a mutually beneficial relationship. Thirteen needed his help, and Michael needed the overseer to grow stronger. If that hadn't been the case, he wouldn't have accepted the offer. Though Michael couldn't help but feel the overseer was cooking up something. He wasn't sure what it was yet, however.

"I'll cut to the chase." Started Michael. He had no desire to trade words with Dumbledore for too long since there was much he needed to find about his new power and self.

"We both know that Tom hadn't died and is still alive…" Michael suddenly paused before asking. "Wait, what year are we?"

"Actually never mind, don't answer that." Michael quickly shook his head before Dumbledore could even open his mouth to reply. Knowing the year was of no help to him. "Tell me how old is Harry Potter. That's much more useful to me."

Dumbledore stared at him for a brief moment. Michael's words revealed more than what he wished to. Dumbledore quickly took note of the information and processed it just as fast.

"Harry just turned 8. The date is the 1st of August, 1988." Replied Dumbledore, staring intently at him.

'So I'm like what 2? 3? Maybe 4 years early? That's not bad I suppose.' Thought Michael.

"Good. Anyway, back to the topic. Tom is still alive and we both know that." Said Michael.

"I suspected as much… but I wasn't entirely sure if that was the case." Admitted Dumbledore. He didn't bother denying it since he wanted to learn what Michael knew. The boy obviously had… surprising information about that topic. Just knowing Voldemort's real name was astounding since no more than a handful people knew it, and even that might be an overstatement.

"I'm still unsure how he accomplished that, however." Continued Dumbledore.

"You're unsure?" Michael raised his eyebrow at him. That was interesting to know. "Well, he's a… lich?" He continued, a bit unsure on that front.

"A lich?" Asked Dumbledore, not familiar with that term.

"In essence, a lich is a powerful magical being, who had stored his soul in a phylactery, making him immortal in a way. No matter how many times you destroy his body, he will regenerate it and return back to life until you destroy the object where his soul is." Answered Michael, causing Dumbledore's eyes to widen.

'How low have you fallen?' Thought Dumbledore, but Michael wasn't done surprising him yet.

"But Tom went above and beyond. I have no idea how he actually managed it, but he had somehow stored his soul in multiple phylacteries. Honestly, that makes almost no sense from what I know, but…" Michael paused there. The words 'there are different laws governing this world, I guess,' never left his mouth.

Dumbledore paled. 'No wonder. No wonder.' Repeated the old man in his mind. After Tom graduated Hogwarts, Dumbledore had met him very few times, but with each meeting, Tom looked… less human. If he had been splitting his soul and storing it in various objects than that explained why.

"Do you know how many?" Asked Dumbledore, trying to keep his voice from quivering.

"Uh, 6? Or maybe 7? I'm not sure. But he was definitely aiming for 7." Answered Michael. His knowledge on the Harry Potter series was rusty to say the least.

Few things could terrify the old man, but that did it. Dumbledore was then reminded of what was found the day Tom was 'killed' 7 years ago. He quickly stood up and walked to the shelf behind him, staring at an old and patched-up hat. "Hat, give me the sword." Commanded Dumbledore, with urgency in his voice.

A long, double-edge sword with a large ruby at the bottom of its hilt magically appeared in the hat. Waving his wand at a fast pace, Dumbledore cast a few spells on it as he stared intently at the blade. A moment later, the old man let out a sigh of relief before he returned the sword back inside the hat, which grumbled something at him.

"I think I can guess what a few of his… phylacteries did you call them?" Asked Dumbledore, receiving a nod from Michael. "I think I can guess a few of them." Knowing Tom, he would go for something grandiose. The artifacts of the four founders were probably the objects he used. At least a few of them. The sword had been found with him the day he died, but it didn't seem like he was successful in turning it into a phylactery.

"I can probably tell you all of them and their locations as well." Dumbledore perked up at that. The hardest part of dealing with Tom would be finding out what objects he used and where they were. This would certainly make it easy if the boy already knew.

"Probably?" Asked Dumbledore.

"My memories about them are… a mess." Admitted Michael. Dumbledore kept his face neutral, but he already knew of that. The old man had tried using Legilimency on Michael, but had little success with the mind art. Dumbledore was adept at it, being able to cast it without needing to use his wand or speak the incantation, but Michael's mind wasn't easy to navigate. He could catch glimpses of Michael's surface thoughts from time to time, but he kept hitting a patch of darkness. Dumbledore wasn't sure if someone had messed up the boy's mind or if those were actual memories.

"If you know some kind of magic that could help me… freshen up my memories, then I would be able to inform you of all of the phylacteries." Continued Michael. "In the meantime, I can inform of you of one, which you can check by yourself."

Dumbledore listened carefully, but the words that left Michael's mouth froze his entire being. "Harry Potter."

"No." Uttered Dumbledore as his body shook. He had been focused on the word 'objects' and hadn't even considered that as an option. There was still a chance that Michael's words weren't the truth, but with how confident he spoke them…

"It is what it is, old man." Michael shrugged his shoulders. "No point in crying over spilled milk. Might as well try and find a way to solve it. Maybe there's some magic that could pull the soul out of his body. Otherwise, killing him is the only other option."

Dumbledore's eye steeled at that statement. His magic pulsed out, showing that he wasn't just an old man, but a very powerful wizard. Michael took it all with just a raise of his eyebrow. Magically speaking, Dumbledore was probably very skilled, but he was by far the most powerful magic user he had seen.

In Liorderat, Michael had witnessed wizards raining down fireballs that looked like meteors from the sky and decimating armies. Sorcerers controlling the sea and submerging entire cities with tsunamis. Liches raising armies of undead to fight their enemies. What Dumbledore displayed, paled in consideration to those magical users.

Ignoring Dumbledore's flex, Michael continued. "Back to the topic. If you know of any magic that could freshen my memories, I can tell you about all the phylacteries. Plus, maybe a way of dealing with the soul in Harry. Don't really remember how he is supposed to deal with it."

Dumbledore narrowed his eyes, but his magic stopped pulsing. Again, Michael revealed a lot of information with his words. 'He knows there was a way, but he wasn't sure of it? That's… good.'

"There is a magic called Occlumency. It is the magical art of clearing one's mind and guarding one's thoughts and memories from others. Occlumency can help you organize your memories." Informed Dumbledore.

"I will provide you with a book on it." Continued Dumbledore. "And I must thank you for the information you provided me…" He paused, realizing something. "Forgive me, but I still don't know your name."

"Michael." He answered simply.

"Just that?" Asked Dumbledore as he stood up, walking over to one the bookshelves in the office. He picked one of the books and turned back to Michael.

"Wynneiros. Michael Wynneiros." He answered keeping his face neutral.

"Wynneiros…" Repeated Dumbledore with one hand grooming his long beard. "I don't believe I'm familiar with such a surname." He knew multiple different languages – that was a requirement to become as accomplished as Dumbledore in magic – but he had no idea about the origin of the surname, which was baffling to him.

"I'm not surprised." Replied Michael, thinking to himself. 'It's elvish after all. Racists cunts.' He cursed them in his mind, despite his own prejudice against them. Michael's however, was aimed at all races. He hated them all equally.

After handing Michael the book on Occlumency, Dumbledore was ready to start calling his trusted allies. He needed to inform them of the situation, so they could all start preparing for the future. However, Michael didn't seem to be done yet.

"Now that we talked about that. Let's move on to the main topic."

Dumbledore's eyes snapped towards Michael's ice blue ones. They just discussed something of paramount importance, but he didn't even consider it as the main topic?

"Truthfully speaking, dealing with Tom is a secondary objective for me, an optional one even." Dumbledore was starting to get a very bad feeling hearing that. "I would still try to deal with him and kill him quickly since there are benefits to it. Even if there is some stupid prophecy about him and Harry."

It really dawned on Dumbledore how much Michael knew at that moment. There should've been no more than three people that knew that a prophecy even existed. Unless Tom had revealed it others, but Dumbledore didn't believe so.

"My main objective is dealing with what will happen in the future due to Tom's foolish actions." Continued Michael. "He had made a deal, a pact with a demon, or demons would be more accurate, a whole legion of them."

Dumbledore was starting to understand. His old age should've made him more knowledgeable and magically skilled than Tom, but after the younger man returned back from his disappearance, he was somehow able to match him spell for spell. That had made little sense to Dumbledore, especially when he was wielding the strongest wand in their duels. For all intents and purposes, he should've won them all.

"Said legion will be coming to this world in about 7 years and they won't be arriving with peaceful intentions. From my experience, demons seek only to destroy." Michael paused, letting his words sink in.

"I would like…" Michael took a deep breath. "Your assistance. Your help to prepare to face them." He hated asking for help. Mostly because he was used to being refused every time he did. Michael was used to handling everything on his own, but he needed help. 7 years was a lot of time to prepare, but he had too many things to work on.

Michael had to figure out how his new power, given to him by Thirteen worked. How his Aura functioned now that it was different. Learning how to use magic could also be useful. He had to work on his body again and increase his strength. He had too much on his plate, and 7 years didn't look that long with that in mind. Thirteen did also say that Dumbledore will help him prepare, so he hoped for the best.

The old man just watched him for a moment, studying him carefully and processing everything he heard from Michael. The way he asked for help was so strained, like he wished to avoid it if possible, yet it was desperate at the same time. Dumbledore learned a lot about him during their conversation and shortly made up his mind. "How old are you?" He asked.

"I don't know. Don't you have some kind of magic to check that?" Asked Michael. He really wasn't sure on his age.

"I can." Confirmed Dumbledore and took out his wand. "It's a simple spell, nothing harmful, I promise." He said and waited for Michael to nod in confirmation. With a simple point, a bright yellow light flew out of his wand and hit the boy. Michael didn't feel anything happen to him, but Dumbledore nodded to himself.

"11. According to my spell, you are exactly 11 years old." The way Michael wrinkled his nose, told Dumbledore he wasn't satisfied with that for some reason.

"That is a good thing." Continued Dumbledore. "Hogwarts starts in one month, and you can start your magic education."

"There is more than magic that I need to work on." Said Michael, but he didn't refuse his offer.

"Be that as it may, magic is a powerful tool that needs a lot of time for one to learn how to wield. And you will have free time to work on whatever else you wish to." Said Dumbledore gently, getting into his teaching state.

"In the meantime, I would plea you to start reading the book on Occlumency. The faster you can... sort out your memories, the quicker we can deal with Tom and then start preparing for this… demon invasion." As unbelievable as it sounded, Dumbledore trusted his words. The vision he had about Michael and how confidently he stated it, made Dumbledore believe him.

"I will be contacting all my trusted allies, so we can start preparing, and I will also visit young Harry Potter to confirm your words. If he truly houses a part of Tom's soul inside him, we need to remove it as quickly as possible before it influences his mind. Or worse, takes over him completely." Said Dumbledore.

"Blimpy!" Called out Dumbledore. A moment later, a small creature popped in existence in the office. It was small about two to three feet tall, with spindly arms and legs, pointed, bat-like ears, and oversized head and eyes.

"Yes, Master Headmasters Sirs, you calleds Blimpy?" Asked the creature in an enthusiastic voice that was high and squeaky.

"Would you please show Michael to one of the rooms in Hogwarts? Not the dorm ones." Asked Dumbledore, receiving enthusiastic nods from Blimpy. "Yes! Blimpy's happy to show Master Mikael to a room."

"If you need anything, Michael, just call Blimpy, and he will help you with whatever he could. Right Blimpy?" Said Dumbledore.

"Yes! Yes! Blimpy's help!" Confirmed Blimpy.

Letting out a sigh, Michael said. "Lead the way Blimpy."