The Veil of Death , a creation of unknown origins, thought to kill anyone who enters it. Yet that's not exactly true, it doesn't kill. How do I know? Simple, I fell through it in a battle at the Department of Mysteries within the Ministry of Magic in the place of my Godfather. Instead of dying I woke as a child almost seventy years in the past. Who am I? Well, some know me as Harry Potter: Boy-Who-Lived, The Golden Boy, The Chosen One. And some know me as Super-Secret Agent Nigel of Penguin MI6, or PMI6.

Personally, I prefer Nigel.

It happened all too fast. I didn't even have time to think as I acted solely on instinct. With strength I didn't know I still had I shoved Sirius out of the way of Bellatrix's spell only to be hit directly in the chest. I stumbled backwards and then there was this feeling of walking on clouds.


Sirius looked terrified, a haunted look of horror on his face. I didn't understand why though. It didn't hurt, I didn't even feel the spell Bellatrix had hit me with. I could hear whispering voices all around me as I was further lifted from the ground and lifted deeper into the Veil. I smiled at Sirius, half wishing I could find my voice to tell him that it was okay, before the Veil completely consumed me.

That was supposed to be it. Everyone knew only Death waited those who went through the Veil and I didn't mind if at was how I died, but it wasn't. One minute I was floating and the next I was falling several hundred feet directly for the ocean suddenly bellow me in the body of a child. so I did what any reasonable teen-turned-child would do in my situation:

I screamed.

I was still screaming when I hit water.

Being a Penguin Agent and working for PMI6, Super-Secret Agent Dylan Tux was used to a lot of unexpected things happening. It was part of his job after all and one of the things he was trying to escape from for the weekend when he took his yatch, The Elizabeth, out for a weekend cruise at sea. It wasn't even twelve hours into the trip when that plan went down the drains he spotted something he didn't expect:

A child falling from the Heavens, screaming in utter terror.

Not that he blamed that Lad he would have done the same if he was in the boy's shoes. The Child was still screaming when he hit water near The Elizabeth and without a moments thought, the British spy dived overboard after the Lad. a few moments later, he surfaced with the Lad held firmly in his arms. It was only after he pulled them both onto the yatch did he get a good look at the boy.

He was exotic, Dylan would give him that. Messy snow white hair, feminine features and skin pale like fresh fallen snow, not to mention the oversized clothes the child was wearing. He patted the lad's back as the boy coughed out the invading water.

"Thank you."

The boy's voice was soft and gently despite being a bit hoarse, probably from all his screaming, but that wasn't what had Dylan's attention. No, his attention was focused solely on the Lad's startling emerald eyes that looked far too old for such a young child.

"So, any idea on how you came to be falling from the sky, Lad?"

Without a moments hesitation, Harry shook his head. He honestly didn't know as the last he checked The Veil of Death led to instinct death, not falling from skies at unholy heights. Harry studied the man, who without a doubt had saved his life only an hour before.

He was tall and slim with well hidden muscles. He moved with the natural grace of a predator. His eyes were a deep hazel that despite being full of warmth held a sharp edge to the like a blade. His hair was raven black and smoothed back in a way that suited him.

"Got a name, Lad?"

Harry wasn't sure why but he shock his head 'No'. For some reason it seemed wrong to tell the man his name as Harry Potter had died the moment he went through the Veil and he sure didn't look like his old self. The man frowned at his response.

"Well that won't do. Everyone deserves a name."

The man gained a thoughtful look as he eyed the Lad before nodding to himself.

"How does Nigel sound? Nigel Tux?"

Harry repeated the name as if testing it before giving a small smile and nodding in agreement.

Nigel Tux, he liked the way it rolled off his tongue and it felt perfect to him. As if it was meant for him. The man smiled.

"Well then Nigel, I'm Dylan. Dylan Tux and I guess you can consider yourself officially adopted."

And with that, Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived, finally died leaving only Nigel Tux behind.

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