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  “AVADA KEDAVRA!”

  Harry watched as Professor Dumbledore fell to the ground, time slowing to a crawl. He felt his mentor’s spell keeping him in place fail. Quickly readjusting his hold on his invisibility cloak, Harry descended to where the headmaster’s body lie. There was a time for mourning, and a time for action. Now was the latter, but the young man simply couldn’t force himself away. This was the man who was meant to help him stop Voldemort. The man who ran the Order of the Phoenix, and the head teacher at Hogwarts. The only man Voldemort feared. Yet here he was, lying on the cold ground, with his heart stopped; killed by someone whom he claimed had his complete trust and confidence.

  Harry felt tears falling down his face. Drying his eyes on his sleeve, he noticed a faint glow emanating from the professor’s body.  With Dumbledore’s features slipping, melting into a new man. His bear darkening, and shrinking down to barely a few centimeters, with his hair doing much the same. His wrinkles disappeared, and his features shifted minutely.  A sudden gasp for air erupted from this new person, who had seemingly taken Professor Dumbledore’s place.

  “Goodness me, that was a dreadful experience!” proclaimed the professor’s replacement, as he sat up.

  “What? But, who… who are you? What happened to Professor Dumbledore? And… and how did you survive?!” Harry stumbled over his words, panic rising in his chest.

  “Regeneration, Harry,” Fake Dumbledore, as Harry had decided to call him, said. The words echoing in Harry’s mind. “I’m not exactly human, as I’ve been pretending to be. I promise I still am Albus Dumbledore, the same man you knew to be your headmaster. Well, same person, different face,”

  “How is that possible? How do I know you’re still Professor Dumbledore?” Harry rose his wand to the obvious fake.

  Fake Dumbledore gave his pupil a grave look. “In your first year here, I told you I knew that by sending you to live with your aunt and uncle, I knew was I condemning you to ten dark years. And your third, I allowed your friend Miss Granger to use a time turner to take every elective. I then gave not quite so express permission to use said device to save your godfather, Sirius Black. Do you believe me now? I am Albus Dumbledore, I promise you that, Harry. Let’s you and I go up to my office, and we can have a chat.” Harry simply nodded.

  Teacher and student walked in silence to the gargoyle that stood watch over the headmaster’s office. “Acid Pops,” the professor intoned, causing the gargoyle to make way for the pair. As they entered the office, Dumbledore sat in his grand chair behind his desk, and motioned for Harry to take a seat. “Now, I’m sure you’re very curious, indeed, about what happened back there. Allow me to explain myself, and I shall allow you any questions you may have, within reason of course. First, as I said earlier, what occurred was known as Regeneration,” the word again echoed in Harry’s mind. Though for what reason, the boy had no idea. “You see, I am not human, Harry. I am, in fact, a Time Lord, from the planet Gallifrey.”

 Time Lord. Gallifrey. These words, Harry knows these words. He doesn’t know from where, or what they mean, but he *knows* them. Echoing through is very soul.

  “We use regeneration as a way of postponing our death, with every cell in our body reviving itself, and, at the same time, changing our very being. A small price to pay, but it is a fact of our biology. As for why I am on earth, and a school headmaster at that, is a long story.”

  “My people were at war with another species called Daleks, some of the most evil creatures in the universe. Their sole purpose is to destroy any life form that isn’t Dalek. So we went to war, across all of space. And all of time. The Last Great Time War. Eventually we locked the war into a single point in time. The entirety of the war, all happening all at once. I managed to escape this time lock, and hid myself with a device known as the Chameleon Arch. The chameleon arch rewrote my very DNA, hiding me among the humans, as well as giving me false memories. I recovered my own shortly before I finished my own schooling here. And thus, we are finished with my tale.”

  Harry digested this information. But so many words resonated with him. Echoed in his mind. Regeneration. Time Lord. Gallifrey. Chameleon Arch. Time War. Dalek. He knew these words. He knew them! But all he could think of was….

  “Professor, how exactly did you recover your memories?” the boy intoned.

  Dumbledore’s eyes seemed to light up. “Ah, that is a good question. You see, when we undergo this procedure, we hide our memories, our essence, in a small device that looks not unlike a fob watch.”

  Fob watch. Harry fingered the watch he had in his pocket. One he’d had since he was a child. The one possession that was always his, and never Dudley’s.

 “Open it. Open the watch. Reclaim what is yours. Your memories, your life. OPEN IT!”

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  All Harry could hear was the voice. The voice emanating from his heirloom watch. The voice that he recognized as his own, but harsher. Older, somehow. More commanding.

  “A… fob watch, sir?”

  “Yes. A rather decorative one. I was under the impression I’d had it all my life. Yet it never worked, since it wasn’t meant to be opened until I was safe.”

  Harry took his watch from out of his robe pocket. “One like this, sir?” Handing it to his mentor, Dumbledore’s eyes widened in shock, and Harry felt fear and trepidation.

  “Yes,” the elder wizard’s voice was smaller than Harry had ever heard it. “Yes, I dare say exactly like this one. If you are to survive what is coming, Harry, I highly recommend opening that watch at once,” he said as he handed his biodata module back to the child who was, he dared say, his favorite student. “Open it, and remember who you are, my boy. It may well save us all.”

  Click. A rush of golden energy, exiting from the fob watch – no, the biodata module – and into Harry’s body. And he heard them. For the first time in sixteen years, he heard the drums. “Yes. Yes, I do remember who I am. I am... the Master? No… No, I haven’t been the Master in a lifetime. I am… the Lumiat!” The Lumiat felt such joy at once again being herself. Or rather Himself, this time around, it would seem. Returning his gaze to his professor, the Lumiat gave a sigh of relief. “Well, professor, and what should I call you? In private in any case. It seems I must remain as Harry Potter a bit longer if we’re to defeat Voldemort.”

  “Yes, I think Albus Dumbledore shall suffice for now. Especially as I underwent elective semantectomy long before leaving Gallifrey. I have no name of my own, not anymore. I am simply, the Professor.”

  “Very well, Professor. What should we do about your regeneration. As far as Snape- yes Professor Snape,” the Lumiat corrected at the Professor’s encouragement, “is concerned, you died. He killed you.” The Professor gave the Lumiat a smile and lifted his hands placatingly.

  “Severus was acting under my direct orders. As I told you before, my time was limited due to the curse the Gaunt family ring placed on me. He is also well aware of my status as a Time Lord. Though my survival will be a shock to him, as it was for me. I should reveal, then, that he has been acting as a double agent for me. His killing me was supposed to cement his place as a loyal death eater, while also granting me mercy from the pain I had been experiencing. And so, for now, unless you have other questions, Lumiat, I suggest returning to your dorm, so you may fill your friends in however much you wish to reveal. I shall leave it to your better judgement how much to tell them, if anything at all. I, myself, shall make plans with Professor McGonagall to have her installed as the new headmistress, and myself as her replacement transfiguration teacher.”

  The Lumiat thought for a short moment before replying. “No Professor. No more questions. I shall, of course, leave your status as a Time Lord a secret, as that is yours to tell. My own, however, Ron and Hermione at least, deserve to know. Good night.”

  As the Lumiat strolled through the halls of the castle that had been his home the last six years, he pondered how he would tell his friends – and he still considered them his friends – about what transpired. He thought using a psychic transfer of knowledge would be easiest, but he could also potentially reveal too much. And he certainly didn’t want to do that. He could also just explain, but would they really believe him? He supposes they would, but it would take convincing.

  Telling the guardian portrait of the Gryffindor common room the password, he was set upon by Harry’s friends as soon as he walked in the room.

  “Harry! You’re back! You were right! The death eaters attacked, we did our best to fight them off, but some got through! But they all ran out after casting the dark mark,” Hermione said, looking like she needed to take a breath.

  Ron interrupted, “But they’ve run off so it’s not a priority, tell us what happened with you and your mission with Professor Dumbledore.”

  Holding his hands up placatingly, the Time Lord tried to calm his former persona’s friends. “Ron, Hermione, the death eaters are well and gone, but there is a lot to talk about. Tomorrow, after classes. Meet me in the room of requirement, just the two of you. I promise I’ll tell you everything, and we’ll tell an abridged version to the DA. But for now, you need to know this, Snape killed Professor Dumbledore. Both as a mercy to the headmaster, and to keep his cover as a death eater. He’s a spy, but we’ll have to tell people he did it maliciously. Do you understand?”

  He was met with conflicted looks from the two wixen, something he was aware he could alleviate with ease, but not without risk. It was Ron who spoke first, with a resolute gaze. “Right, mate. Tomorrow. But you’ve got to tell us everything.”

  “Of course, Ron. I will, I promise. Now, I really do wish to retire, so I’ll talk to you both in the morning.” Ron and Hermione shared a look.

  “Right,” Hermione began, “Tomorrow. Sleep well, Harry.”

  As the Lumiat walked up the stairs to the dorms, Hermione began whispering. “Did you hear that? ‘I really do wish to retire’? I don’t think I’ve ever heard Harry say anything like that before. He sounds like a different person completely.”

  “I agree with you, Hermione, I do. But we have to be careful, he could just be under the imperious curse. So just… we’ll act natural for now, yeah? And be on our guard when we meet him. He might just want to tell us somewhere nobody can hear us.” Hermione nodded slowly.

  “I don’t like it, but I don’t have anything better, so careful it is. But we should at least tell Neville and Ginny what we’re up to, just in case. “After getting an affirmative from her fiery tempered friend, they both went to their respective dorms to rest for the night, hoping dearly they were wrong about their oldest and closest friend.

  The Lumiat, meanwhile, tried his best to sleep, not wanting to simply wait the whole night for tomorrow to come. He remembered where his TARDIS lies, but getting to it would be tricky. Especially during the school year. Perhaps, once Voldemort was dealt with, he could go back to travelling the universe. He certainly wondered if he should take on a human compatriot, as the Doctor did, or if he should see if the Professor wanted to go with him. Having a fellow Time Lord could help ease the loneliness caused by his past sins. As he finally drifted off, the Lumiat hoped in vain there wouldn’t be nightmares.

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                It turns out, as much as Harry Potter thought time dragged on during the school day, knowing exactly how many seconds passed made it seem to drag on even longer, at least the Lumat thought. Come morning, he reassured Harry’s friends, people he still did care for, that he would tell all post dinner. Breakfast, however, was begun with an announcement of Professor Dumbledore’s passing, and Professor McGonagall’s placement as interim headmistress until the next school year. Funeral rites would be held before returning home for the summer, and all were invited to attend. Snape was still there, seemingly getting away with Albus Dumbledore’s “murder”. Perhaps the Professor managed to convince them both to stay? The Lumiat wasn’t sure. He resolved to ask about that later.

                The moment their defence against the dark arts class was over for the day, the Lumiat stayed behind, ushering his friends onwards. His former potions instructor spared him a look, with a raised eyebrow. “Was there something I could help you with, Potter?” the Lumiat looked him in the eyes, trying to see this man’s intent before replying.

                “I was simply curious how much Professor Dumbledore told you. How much you know. Sir. “

Snape gave the Lumiat a long look, before starting slowly. “He told me of what happened last night. That you are the same as he is. A Time Lord. That you still intend to stand against the Dark Lord, and that you are able to know of our plans as they come. You know that I am a spy, and I will continue to act as such. You should know that the Dark Lord is planning on moving soon. This summer. If all goes well, I shall be the headmaster come next semester, in order to protect the students as much as I can. I will, of course, attempt to support you as well, Lumiat, provided neither of our covers are blown. Now, your ‘friends’ seem to be waiting for you. Leave before I tell them of your nature myself.”

                With a quick nod, the Lumiat was out the door, where, as Snape said, Hermione and Ron were waiting for him. “Just confirming some things,” he said to head off any questions. “I’ll tell you when I tell you everything else tonight. Promise.” The two seemed to accept this, and the trio chatted about classes and how their exams went along with tentative plans for the summer. Eventually, dinner rolled around, with nothing else exciting having happened during the day. Finishing their dinner, the trio shared a look, each nodding before heading up to the room of requirement.

                Pacing in front of the by now familiar tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy, Lumiat could tell his friends were wary of what he had to say. He could only hope that they would be willing to stay with him. He would understand, of course, if they didn’t want to continue being friends. But he knew that it would be suspicious if they didn’t at least pretend. After motioning for Ron and Hermione to go into the room before him, the Lumiat braced himself for a difficult conversation.

                Closing the door, and turning to face the two humans, the Time Lord found the courage to confess to these two who have unknowingly lost their longtime friend. “I’m sorry for holding off on telling you everything. It’s just that this information is rather delicate and shouldn’t be spread around too much. I suppose I ought to start with the beginning of the mission. Professor Dumbledore and I found the Horcrux. Though in all the confusion of last night, we did forget to destroy it. I suppose I’ll have to ask him about it…” the Lumiat trailed off, then being interrupted by Hermione.

                “Harry, Professor Dumbledore is dead. I know it’s quite a shock, but we can’t just ask him what he did with it.”

                “Hmm? Oh right!  Dead. Yes. Sorry. Grief and all. But to continue, some old memories came to me after we came back. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. But Harry Potter was just a disguise. A really good one. I’m the Lumiat, a Time Lord from the planet Gallifrey. I hid my memories in this fob watch,” the Lumiat pulled it out of his pocket, tossing it to Ron. “Disguised me as human even. It’s a bit of a drastic measure, but I was trying to hide from someone dangerous. I still remember everything I did as Harry. I promise you that. But it was a fictional persona. Thankfully I didn’t need to make a fake backstory. I met James and Lilly Potter. They were unable to have children and I needed to hide. Perfect match. “

                “Hold on, how were you able to disguise yourself as a baby?” Ron interrupted. “Let’s just say we believe you on all this so far, how would that have worked?” The Lumiat gave a sigh.

                “My people, we have… a sort of way to cheat death. Every cell in our body repairs itself, but it causes us to change. We can have a fair bit of control over this process, with a bit of training and practice. I chose to turn myself into a small babe in order to hide with the Potters better.” The Lumiat began pacing, getting antsy at how the conversation was going. “But this body is still only as old as Harry Potter was. I’m simply back to who I was.”

                Neither Hermione nor Ron looked impressed with his story so far. The Lumiat considered this a bad sign. A silence hung over the trio for several minutes, finally being broken by Hermione. “Harry. This isn’t funny. Whatever kind of joke this is, we’re not laughing. Tell us the truth. Please.”

                Another sigh. “Alright. I was reluctant to do this, but it seems you’ve left me no choice. I’ll just have to show you.” He stepped towards his two human friends, reaching his hands out to them. “Grab my hands. Both of you. Please,” he added at their reluctance. “This is the only way you’ll believe me, so let’s get it over with. General history first.”

                Ron and Hermione grasped a hand each. The Lumiat closed his eyes and images flashed in the human’s minds. A burnt orange sky, twin suns, a forest that looked like it was on fire. “This is Gallifrey. My home world.” The images shifted to various people. Mostly men with similar hairstyles and goatees. Then a grotesque burnt face, followed by another man with a goatee, a younger, clean-shaven man, followed by another older gentleman. “These are all my old faces. As I said, we change when we regenerate.” Then there was a younger man again. A darker skinned man after that, and a woman with long hair. After this face, I stopped using my old name, and became the Lumiat.” A woman with shorter hair, and an older woman were the last two faces. “After that I hid with the Potters. And now here we are.”

                The Lumiat opened his eyes, and the images stopped. “Do you believe me now? I can show you more if you need it.” Ron spoke up first.

“Okay we believe that bit. But how did you get your memories back? There’s no way that just happened.” The Lumiat could see the gears turning in both his friends’ heads, and hoped he could keep the Professor’s secret.

                “Well,” he started, “I was given some reminders about my previous lives that sort of… kickstarted things. And then I started noticing my fob more, and I convinced myself to open it, despite thinking it was broken.”  It was then that Hermione spoke up.

                “You saw Professor Dumbledore change, didn’t you. He’s one of you. He’s a Time Lord too, isn’t he?” After a yelped out “WHAT” from the Lumiat, she continued. “There’s only so much you could have seen, and you mentioned going to see him after. Besides, Professor McGonagall looked entirely too neutral to be announcing his death for it to be real.”

                “You’re way too clever, Hermione. You know that, don’t you?” A smug look told him everything. “I had hoped to keep his secret as it wasn’t mine to tell. But yes, the Professor is a Time Lord, much like myself. He came to Earth to escape the Time War, a conflict that took place across all of time and space. I did the same a while back, but I went to the end of the universe in the year one hundred trillion.” The Lumiat cleared his throat before continuing. “But that’s a story for another day. For now, though, we have another issue. Did you still want to be friends?”

                If there was one thing the Lumiat wasn’t expecting, it was for his friends to hug him. “Of course, mate,” he heard Ron say. “Just because you didn’t remember all that other stuff, doesn’t mean we didn’t still go through everything together since first year.”

                “Ron’s right, Har- er, Lumiat. We’re still friends, of course we are. You’re just a bit extra, is all.”

                “Harry is fine,” he said through tears he didn’t know had appeared. “Harry is just fine. Especially since we’ve still got to keep this whole ‘alien’ thing a secret.  Let’s meet before classes tomorrow and decide what we’re telling the others in the DA, yeah? I’m going to have to apologize to the Professor about blowing his secret after telling him I’d keep it.” After getting positive answers, the Lumiat walked to the gargoyle guarding the Professor’s office, hoping he’s still in there, and that the password didn’t change. “Acid pops?” The gargoyle moved, and he went up the stairs to have a conversation with the Professor about their dark lord issue.