Prologue

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Alright, guys.

I have thought over things and I have decided to re-release this story with a few weeks here and there. Somethings have been removed, the chapters have hopefully been fixed, and words will hopefully cease to be misspelled and or wrong where they are.

I will be releasing these chapters over the course of the next few weeks as j see fit. However, you all should realize that I am not focused on this story and it will probably be a while before I even add anything to this book. It's not because I hate it or because I don't want to finish it. It's because I want to finish It's Not a Parasite and 8.

Without further adeu, enjoy Timeless, hopefully improved.
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The transformation wasn't too unbearable, in Harry's own opinion. At least, it wasn't as horrible as he was expecting.

He could guess why some people would find it painful, maybe even excruciating. It was painful, don't get him wrong. However, Harry had lived through even worse pains.

Sitting on the cold cobblestone floor of his own personal Azkaban cell made the transformation bearable. The age-old chill that had settled into his bones over the years really did seem to be bone-deep.

On the eve of what Harry assumed was his sixteenth birthday, his biological venom finally took over his body and Harry could feel it when his organs started to shut down. His liver went first, but his kidneys were very quick to follow. All of his organs went through failure, and Harry could only focus on making sure the pain didn't make him scream.

If he screamed, the dementors would come for him.

Finally, the venom, his venom, spread to his heart. He could hear the finally shudder and then nothing. His cell was eerily quiet.

The transformation was mild compared to what came next, to what happened next.

Azkaban had seen it fit to try and integrate him into some semblance of society. He had been locked up since he was a baby, but the only recollection of the time he had were the marks on the cell walls. Thousands of them, tally marks, that are etched into the stone walls. He didn't know what society was anymore, let alone how to act. So the minute they had thrown the dark wizard in the cell with him, he had pounced.

When the warden, an actual wizard, came by the next day, Harry's roommate was splattered all over the walls. There was a puddle of blood and bones near the cell door, and there were obvious claw and teeth marks carved into bloodied remains.

Harry sat in the middle of it all. His long, raven black hair hung around him in smooth waves, but some patches were clearly matted with dried blood. His face was blank and blood-smeared. His green eyes were vacant of any emotion.

They never gave Harry another roommate.

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Years must have passed Harry by.

The wizard wardens were different now. Younger, more eager to please their ministry.

Over the years, Harry had worked on his powers. He never spent more than a day in the same form, the same appearance, the same.

He had almost completely forgotten what his original appearance was. He had spent so long in different forms that he no longer remembered if he had red hair or blue. If he had green eyes or purple. If he was tall or if he was short. It all seemed to blur together and it just gave him a migraine when he tried to remember it.

Harry swallowed the venom that pooled into his cheeks at the sound of footsteps.

The new wardens were overconfident. They didn't have the same caution that the older ones did. The older ones knew what he was. They knew to stay far away from the bars of his cell. They knew to bring a dementor when they gave him food. A measly rat here and there. He no longer had a sense of time. He didn't sleep anymore and they never fed him around the clock anymore.

The new wardens thought that they were better than him, smarter than him. They didn't take these precautions. Then again, he had let them approach him of his own free will. Their blood sang to him, but Harry held back. He would have his time.

Harry opened his eyes when the footsteps stopped in front of his cell. The young man had short, bright red hair that was hard to miss. Harry dug his fingers and his toes into the ceiling of the cell where he was sitting.

"Good Afternoon, Hadrian." The warden said cheerfully, making Harry wince at his pitch.

"Hello, Rodolphus Weasley," Harry said back, his soft voice echoing through the cell. "What brings you to my cell?"

"Food," Rodolphus said loudly, his gloved hand now brandishing an age-old rat. The stink of the decaying flesh made the immortal's nose twitch.

"Disgusting," Harry mumbled to himself, to low for the wizard to hear. The rattle of keys distracted Harry from his thoughts.

They had never opened his cell before.

"I'll just put it over there for when you are ready." The Weasley seemed to notice Harry's confusion. The keys juggled again before the wizard unlocked the cell door and stepped in.

"Why do you step inside the cage?" Harry's head tilted to the side, not unlike a dog would. The redhead laughed loudly, his voice echoing off the walls.

"I am not afraid of you." Harry watched the man get farther into his cell.

"You should be," Harry murmured and unfurled his wings silently. The bat-like appendages twitched slightly, but the Weasley didn't notice.

"Why should I be? You're trapped in here with me," the man said, his wand sliding, into his hand from a holster under his sleeve. Harry shook his head, his temporarily black hair shifted along with him.

"I am afraid you have it wrong," Harry said, releasing his clawed hands and feet from the cobblestone of his cell roof. "You are trapped in here," Harry let go completely, dropping behind the wizard. He had timed it correctly and had landed in between the Weasley and the door.

"With me."

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