Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine ;)
Warnings: Character death (not explicit), use of OCs but not overly/only in the place of characters Rowling never included.
Hope you enjoy! ;)
Thump. Thump.
His footfalls matched his heartbeat, slow and fading.
Thump...Thump
His breath came in gasps as he struggled forwards. Faces flashed in his mind, ghosts of the past.
Thump... Thump
Voldemort finished but at what cost? Harry, the only survivor of the Battle of Hogwarts, Boy-Who-Lived indeed.
Thump...
Thump...
A blast of pure magic had obliterated everyone in a good five miles. Potter at the centre of it all.
Thump...
...
Thump...
...
He thought he would be joining them soon.
Thump...
...
...
Thump...
...
...
The Elder wand hung in his grasp, the invisibility cloak around his shoulders and the resurrection stone set in metal on his finger. The Master of Death truly was a pitiful sight Death mused.
Thump...
...
...
...
Thump...
...
...
...
Death swooped down to catch his Master's body just before he hit the ground. His heartbeat so faint that it was barely existent.
Thump...
...
...
...
...
Harry Potter had suffered greatly during his short time on Earth. Death had been planning this for too long and felt a twinge of genuine emotion for what he was about to do.
Thump...
...
...
...
...
...
But it couldn't be avoided. This boy-no man-was needed elsewhere to fulfil Death's plan. Then he would get what he deserved.
Thump...
...
...
...
...
...
...
A family. Death sighed, he was getting soft in his old age, he would just have to cause some havoc to get his edge back.
~Stupid freaking line breaks~
Slowly Harry came to his senses. Mind groggy and his limbs aching. His whole body ached, even his eyelids felt heavy and bruised. When Harry finally gained the energy to open his eyes he was confronted by a familiar face.
"Hey Prongslet," Sirius chuckled, "Pretty banged up aren't you?"
Ignoring his abused body Harry sprung up from his position on the floor and brought his Godfather into a fierce hug.
"S-Sirius? A-Am I dead?" Harry's hopeful voice was croaky from disuse and barely audible seeing as his face was buried in Sirius' shoulder.
"Not quite Prongslet, it's not your time yet. No rest for the wicked huh?" Sirius' grip on Harry betrayed his attempts to lighten the mood with his unique brand of humour.
Harry pulled away from the hug at this statement so he could look his Godfather in the eye.
"Why can't I die yet? I want to die. I've been ready to die for years, Voldy seemed to agree." Harry's tone held none of the fear that many would expect but instead was full of the sarcasm that his loved ones knew him for. He just wanted to let go. After everything he had been through, this seemed to be a small request. Everyone was dead because of him. Everyone. Greif stole Harry's breath for a moment. He just wanted peace.
"The fact that you are so desperate to die proves that you need to remain amongst the living," Sirius seemed both stern and loving in that moment.
"Your Godfather is correct Master. You have a higher purpose in another universe. You are needed elsewhere." A form materialised out of the non-existent shadows, this occurrence finally gave Harry the opportunity to take in his surroundings. He appeared to be in a stark white version of the Room of Requirement, Harry wasn't quite sure how he knew but he felt it.
"A 'higher purpose'? My whole life has been dictated by fate, destiny and prophecies since the day I was born!" Harry spat. "I don't NEED to go through this AGAIN!" Harry was practically shouting at this point.
"Prongslet, this is a chance for you to live the life you deserve. You will be born into a new world where you can get the peace you crave," Sirius attempted to diffuse the situation but Harry was beyond reason. It was too much to absorb. Everyone he knew and loved had died and just when he thought he would get some sort of rest, he was told that he couldn't join them.
"Why is it always me?" Harry mumbled, head in his hands.
"You possess a tortured soul Master. It is unfortunate that such a fate must befall you but this task can go to no other, you are the Master of Death. The only wizard to have collected all three parts of the Deathly Hallows, not for selfish gain, since I created them. Someone of your calibre is needed in this new universe," Death paused in his speech, as if hesitating, "To get the end you desire, you must end the life of just one more. In this universe things turned out very differently. The prophecy was never spoken and your counterpart turned to darkness. To save yourself you will be sent back in time in this new universe to before the turning point of fate. You must kill the one that caused the disturbance and twisted this other Harry's destiny."
"Why is everyone so bloody cryptic all the time?" Harry muttered, "And why the hell do I have to be the one to do this? I've seen enough Death for a lifetime. No pun intended." At this Harry gestured towards the ghostly figure of Death.
"There can only be one Master of Death, the title is not simply gained through the collection of trinkets. Otherwise anyone good at finding things would have power over me, there are other requirements that need to be fufilled. Afterall we can't let any old Hufflepuff become the Master of Death now can we?" (A/N I hope someone gets the reference...)
"Harry, as soon as you have lived out a proper life in this new universe you can join us in the afterlife. You have spent too long suffering because of the mistakes of others." Sirius brought Harry into a hug once again as Death shifted in the background, "We just want you to be happy Prongslet! For now it is goodbye but we'll see you soon. You had better cause some havoc for our counterparts, it would be boring otherwise!"
"Damnit Siri! I don't want to leave. All I want is to stay with you and die like everyone else. I don't need a new family! I have a family, all the people that fought and DIED for me were my family. They loved me for who I was and not what I was born to do. These new people won't understand me at all. Don't make me leave." Harry pleaded.
"You will understand when you get there Master. Everything will become clear and then you may return to us." Even Death's smooth tones did nothing to dampen Harry's fears of the unknown.
"You must be off now Master."
"Wait! Just let me DIE!" However, this would be Harry's final attempt at persuasion for he was already fading away.
~Stupid freaking line breaks~
As Harry sank into oblivion he could practically feel his cells divide, he remained in a state of awareness but felt no pain at this unusual mode of travel. Vague shapes and brilliant flashes of light filled his vision, Harry was completely disoriented yet positive he had never felt such clarity. Harry felt no sorrow or anger here, he simply felt content. Sadly, this moment of weightlessness was not to be as Harry felt himself gain substance once more.
~Stupid freaking line breaks~
Harry was alone when he awoke, that he knew. He was lying on the floor of, what appeared to be, a bar. The stench of Firewhisky and stale Butterbeer seemed to indicate that it was a Wizarding bar which brought some peace to Harry's panicked mind. Checking his possessions, Harry found himself to still have the three cursed items that had gotten him stuck in this situation.
Sighing, Harry dragged himself into a sitting position to gather his thoughts. Well, Death had seemed to think that he would know what to do. "Bloody hell." Harry muttered to himself.
Trying to figure out the who the mysterious person was seemed to be his first priority, however; there was a very long list of people that disliked him and as such making a mental list of enemies seemed to be a waste of time. The list would simply be too long to comprehend so Harry decided that he would do things the Gryffindor way with maybe a bit of Slytherin to take the edge off.
With that last thought, Harry leapt to his feet and strolled out of the empty bar. Once outside he noticed that he had just vacated the Hogs Head. At least he had some idea of his whereabouts. It vaguely crossed his mind that there would have been wards around Aberforth's bar but Death must have managed to bypass them so he could send Harry there. He was Death after all, this also led Harry to momentarily consider whether he would even activate wards seeing as he was technically dead. This was something he would have to investigate. Another thought that crossed his mind was the time of day, it was just coming up to dawn so it was no surprise that no one was around.
The next order of business led Harry to a secluded section of the street where he could securely wrap himself in his invisibility cloak and apparate to Diagon Alley. From there Harry proceeded to head down Knockturn Alley where he would be able to carry out his plan.
Harry stood outside Borgin & Burkes, a fine establishment if Harry did say so. A thick layer of grime seemed to cling to every surface. Harry really couldn't figure out how the shop attracted customers. Maybe it was their surprising opening hours-or to be more accurate-their lack of closing hours.
The Master of Death was well aquatinted with Borgin and his shop, he had found himself there too many times to count-not always of his own free will (like the incident with the floo network in his second year). The Borgin of Harry's world had learnt to fear Harry and as such would not try to cheat him out of his money. Today Harry had something to sell that he knew held a lot of value. It was after all created by Death himself.
Sighing, Harry opened the door and was greeted by the ominous tingle of the door bell. To an ordinary, in other words Muggle observer, it would appear that the door had opened of it's own volition. However, many a witch or wizard would simply be on their guard for an invisible foe. Borgin Senior was one such cautious individual.
When Harry entered the shop he made sure that he was fully under the cover of his invisibility cloak before hiding himself in a dark corner so he could judge the right time to emerge. He watched Borgin with relentless eyes as he shifted from side to side as if debating whether or not to run. His eyes mirrored his movements-rapidly glancing between the door out of the shop and the door behind the counter.
"G-Good day to you, I-if you would perhaps show yourself, we could do business?" Borgin's stuttering only served to amuse Harry, Borgin appeared to have got his spineless attitude from the man in front of him, who a Harry assumed to be his father.
Harry could plainly see how nervous his lack of presence was making the shop owner and so decided to remain hidden a few moments more before emerging out of the shadows he had hidden in. (He knew it emphasised his eyes and made him seem otherworldly and intimidating). Harry knew it was foolish to use his true appearance but he had never really mastered the art of glamours and he figured that it would appear more suspicious if he used a barley passable one.
"Good day," Harry muttered. "I'll get straight to the point. I wish to sell an item to you, I know it has immense value and if you try to cheat me out of my money, I will simply go elsewhere for my business. I don't have a lot of time so I would...appreciate it if you would give me a fair price from the get go." Harry stared straight into his eyes as if to put across the fact that he didn't trust Borgin with the task.
"I-if you would permit me, I-I could have a look at this item a-and we could n-negotiate?" Borgin seemed unable to make eye contact with Harry after he made it clear that he wasn't fooling around.
Harry glided a few steps further into the room and held out the invisibility cloak. "This is a genuine invisibility cloak, it is of the finest quality so don't even attempt to give me anything less than 100,000 Galleons."
After a few hours of cursing, cowering (on Borgin's end) and a pinch of negotiating Harry found himself drinking in the morning sunlight with a bottomless pouch full of gold in his pocket. What Borgin didn't know was that Harry would soon gain possession of the invisibility cloak again, being the Master of Death meant that Harry could never get rid of the objects even if he wanted to. That was the main reason why he was making haste as he exited Knockturn Alley, he didn't fear Borgin but he was not going to stick around when Borgin figured out that he had just been cheated out of an obscene amount of gold. He wanted to have everything he needed before the cloak disappeared.
His first stop was Quality Quidditch Supplies where he managed to purchase a Shooting Star which vaguely surprised Harry considering the fact that he was sure in his universe the Shooting Star had come out in 1955, it was only 1950. He had seen a Daily Prophet on the counter in Borgin & Burkes, he figured it should have surprised him to be so far back in the past but he couldn't find it in himself to care. He just wanted this over. The fact that the Borgin he knew wasn't present in the shop had given Harry ample time to evaluate the time period he had ended up in. The man he had been negotiating with was obviously Borgin's father.
Once that was done, Harry hurried towards the international portkey centre where he purchased a portkey to Albania.
His second to last stop was Flourish and Blotts where he immediately began searching for a book on the founders. It was common knowledge, to him anyway, that Voldemort was the heir of Slytherin and he was the heir of Gryffindor but Harry was curious to know who the other heirs were.
After that, Harry made his final stop. The Master of Death made his made to the Apothecary where he browsed the shelves for useful potions, his first priority was a potion for language. It was a very useful potion that allowed the drinker to understand any language that he may choose for 24 hours, the way to do so was to write the name of the language you wished to understand and then drop it in the potion. It had taken quite a while for the potion to be perfected so that any type of ink could be used though the parchment had to be a certain kind, luckily for Harry he wouldn't have to search for it. He had chosen this Apothecary because of the advise he had received from a worker at the Portkey centre who knew that they sold the parchment, quill and even some ink with the potion. Harry decided to buy a few weeks worth of the language potion (it had some flashy Latin name that he couldn't be bothered to remember) and he also purchased a dozen other random potions that might help him along the way such as Pepper-up potions and dreamless sleep potions, alongside a few others.
Once he had finished his business at the Apothecary, he grabbed the portkey, which was in the form of an intricate silver spoon, from one of the pockets of his transfigured robes. He then proceeded to make his way towards the apparition and portkey point so that he could begin his journey. Just as he was activating the portkey out of Diagon Alley he saw an irritated and dismayed teenage Borgin tearing out of Knockturn Alley, looking rather desperate. 'Poor kid' Harry thought just as he disappeared.
~Stupid freaking line breaks~
When Harry landed he secured the portkey in a pocket of his robes so that he could use it to return later on. He had made sure to purchase a returns portkey, it would be far too much effort to have to try and buy a portkey if he ran out of language potions. With the thought of the language potions on his mind, Harry reached into one of his pockets and chugged it down. It tasted strangely different than he remembered, not entirely unpleasant. Maybe tasteful potions were another part of this new world.
'Damn', Harry thought as his stomach grumbled. He really should have bought some food in Diagon Alley, all the hustle and bustle of the day meant that food wasn't really the first thing on his mind. When he considered just how long it had been since he had eaten a decent meal, he was rather shocked. He had been in a dream-like state when he talked with Death and Sirius so he had not felt the hunger that should have been apparent from his months on the run. They had barley had enough food to feed themselves half the time, Harry usually made sure that Ron and Hermione got more food. He had been used to starvation from the Dursleys so he could survive longer on small amounts of food, but even Harry had his limits. Gazing around at Wizarding Albania, the Master of Death was happy to see that there was a bar a short walk away he also decided that he may as well rent a room there so he could be near the portkey point.
With his mind made up, Harry marched towards the bar and then swiftly made his way towards the counter so that he could order some food.
"Excuse me, I would like to book a room please." This was directed towards the overly cheery middle-aged barman that had managed to serve three cocktails, five Firewhiskys and numerous Butterbeers (for the lightweights) in the time it had taken Harry to finish his sentence. Harry was very impressed in this show of wandless magic, it took a lot of time and talent for wandless magic to be perfected to that degree.
"Yes good sir! Would you also be wanting a meal Mr...?" At Harry's nod and quick introduction ("I'm terribly sorry for my rudeness, my name is Arty Johnson.") the barman was sent into a flurry of movement. He swept his arm to the side to reveal a hidden doorway leading into the hotel part of the bar, signalling Harry to step inside, the barman called for someone called 'Dita'.
"My wife deals with the hotel side of the bar and also the meals, so if you would please make your way through." Once again he gestured towards the hallway leading away from the bar.
"Thank you Mr...?" Harry waited a moment to allow the barman to make his own introduction.
"Now it is my turn to offer apologies, my name is Loran Ceka. You may call be Loran young sir." Loran swung back around to draw Harry into a handshake.
"Then you must call me Arty, Loran." Harry gave his new, dare he say, friend a small smile as they shook hands. When Loran departed Harry made his way down the corridor until he came across a cosy little sitting room that was filled with squishy armchairs. The walls were covered with wizarding paintings and a few gas lamps were scattered around. A stunning woman was sitting in an armchair by the fire 'she must be the 'Dita' Loran had called for earlier' Harry thought. Harry made his way closer to the seated woman and offered a greeting.
"Good day to you madam. Your husband, Mr Ceka I'm assuming, said that you would be the one to go to if I should require a room and a hot meal." Harry bent down and kissed her hand. "My name is Arty Johnson, I would thank you greatly if you would be able to provide me with a place to stay for a while."
"You are correct. My name is Afrodita Ceka but you can call me Dita, we could defiantly be able to arrange a room for you. Why don't you take a seat?" She gestured towards the armchair opposite and only carried on when Harry was comfortably seated.
"Mr Johnson, you are far more polite than our usual clients so it would be a pleasure for you to stay here. Now, we have a few available single rooms each at 20 Galleons a night. We would charge an extra 5 Galleons if you would require food every morning and evening. The only difference between the rooms would be the view, you can either have a sea view or a balcony looking out on the town." Here she paused to allow Harry to consider his choices.
"If I may call you Dita then you must call me Arty. The seaside view sounds lovely and the food sounds even nicer, do you think I would be able to pay for a week stay in advance? I may need to stay longer but I want to pay in advance for my convenience and yours." Harry gave another small smile and shifted in his seat.
"That sounds perfectly agreeable Arty. Once we have settled the payment I shall show you to your room so if you would follow me, I will take you to get logged in for your stay." As she walked down another revealed hallway she carried on explaining how things would work during his stay. "We will be serving dinner at 7pm every evening and breakfast will be at 8am." She came to a stop in front of an ornate wooden door and pushed it open to a room full of keys and log books. "Do you want to pay the full amount now? It will come to 175 Galleons. If not we could set up monthly payments from your Gringotts account." As she was talking she walked behind the counter so that she could reach for an opened log book. Harry watched a she wrote down his fake name 'Arty Johnson' and then 'staying a minimum of 7 days in the top floor seaside room-room number 54'.
"I'll just pay it now, if that's okay?" She simply nodded and wrote down 'payment in full on collection of key'. Once Dita had finished writing, she looked up at Harry to see him pull about a small pouch and count out 175 Galleons.
"Everything seems to be in order." Dita smiled as she counted out the Galleons and put them in a pouch which she dropped down a small shoot behind the counter. After she had done that she summoned a key from one of the top hooks on the wall and motioned for Harry to follow her back into the hallway. She led him up a few flights of stairs until they reached a door with the number 54 painted on it in a delicate cursive script. The door itself was a rustic, washed out blue with a beautiful painted scene of a seaside town, for a moment Harry was captivated by the form of a seagull as it swooped between the painted houses. Harry noticed Dita smiling fondly at the painting and wondered if she had painted it herself, Harry had always wondered if there was some special magic involved with painting magical pictures.
While Harry was lost in his thoughts Dita had taken it upon herself to open the door. As Harry walked inside, he was greeted by a very understated yet stunning room. The floor to ceiling window opposite the door allowed a lot of natural light to flow into the room, the double bed sat against the left wall with bedside tables holding a gasp lamp either side. The walls themselves were a washed out blue, like the door, with the furniture an off white to follow along with the peaceful beach theme. There was a chest of drawers opposite the bed, with a matching wardrobe next to it. Harry felt a soft carpet under his feet as he walked further into the room, he also noticed a door beside the bed leading to, what Harry assumed was, an en suite. Dita smiled at Harry as she handed over the key to the room.
"This is a lovely room." Harry smiled at Dita as he finished his inspection and grabbed the key. "It's very cosy."
"This is one of my favourite rooms. I even painted the door myself, painting always was a hobby of mine." She sighed fondly as she lost herself in memories.
Harry waited a few moments before coughing lightly to gain her attention.
"Oh sorry Arty, dear! An old lady like me does end up getting lost in her thoughts", At this she blushed faintly at being caught reminiscing. "Anyway, you're probably tired, I'll let you get settled in. Remember that dinner is at 7, you still have a few hours before then." At this Dita glided out of the room, shutting the door behind her.
Harry used the key to lock the door and was impressed to see that wards sprang into place, just to be safe Harry made his own so that he could sleep soundly. Chugging down a dreamless sleep potion just to be safe Harry flung his coat on a chair by the window and collapsed on the bed, almost instantly he was asleep.
~Stupid freaking line breaks~
When Harry awoke the next morning, it was to the bright morning sunlight shining through the window. Even though he felt obscenely hungry (he had slept through dinner the night before), he felt well rested and that was worth a lot more at that moment in time.
Casting 'tempus', Harry found that it was nearing 7 o'clock so he decided he may as well have a shower before breakfast. Taking out a shrunken trunk from the robes he had left on the chair, he returned it to it's normal size and removed a fresh set of clothes.
After Harry had enjoyed a long and refreshing shower, he found that he only had ten minutes before breakfast would be served. Hurriedly Harry put on his clothes, grabbed the key to unlock the door and grasped his wand to take down the wards he had put up.
Making his way downstairs Harry encountered a few other guests at the hotel who were all in vague states of confusion, as if they had no idea why they were bothering to get up so early. Harry agreed with them on that.
After the Master of Death had, had a fulfilling and wholesome breakfast he decided that he should head out for the day so that he could hunt down the thing he had come here for. Ravenclaw's diadem would not be turned into a Horcrux if Harry could help it.
From what the ghost of Helena Ravenclaw had told him, and what Hermione had managed to piece together, the diadem had been hidden in a tree in Albania before the Bloody Baron had tried to get her to go back to her family and she ended up dead. Stuck in his thoughts, Harry did not notice the man standing in the hallway before he walked right into him. Harry immediately had an apology on his lips but was beaten to it by the tall stranger.
"Oh, sorry there Bolla! I see you have awoken from your slumber and I am the unfortunate prey!" The stranger joked. Harry was a fan of mythology and so knew just what the man was referring to, it was an old Albanian myth about a dragon that would wake once a year to feast on the first human they come across.
"You're safe, I already ate." Harry quipped. The deep and genuine laugh that resounded down the corridor confirmed Harry's suspicions, this man must be the son of Loran, the barman. When Harry looked closer he could see the family resemblance, he had his mother's slim nose with his father's facial structure and hair which was in a hastily tied ponytail.
"My name is Arty, I'm guessing you are a relation of Loran and Dita?" The lift of Harry's voice showed that he was asking a question.
"Yes! How did you know? My name is Jak, I help my mother around the hotel when she needs it. I usually do the cooking around here so you can thank me for the wonderful food!" Jak directed a wink and a wave at Harry as he said, "Now, sorry to be so abrupt but I must be going. My mother will never let me hear the end of it if she sees me slacking off."
"No, no! It's fine, I was just heading out myself." Harry smiled good-naturedly. "See you around I guess." Harry called to Jak's retreating back.
"See you Bolla!" Jak called.
~Stupid freaking line breaks~
Harry popped into an area of packed woodland with an extensive map of Albania tucked under his arm, he made sure that he was alone before casting a disillusionment charm and then said 'Point Me Helena Ravenclaw's remains' before he was on his way.
Harry headed North for a few hours before he found himself in a clearing where he discovered a proud and youthful lifelike model of Helena Ravenclaw. She stood with all the grace and disdain of a spoilt pureblood, this would be the norm in the time that Helena came from but that didn't stop Harry's feelings of mild loathing. It appeared to Harry that the Bloody Baron must have taken the time in his grief to build this monument for her and bury her body beneath it before committing suicide.
Harry concluded that the tree containing the diadem must be nearby, the Baron wouldn't have taken the body far. It would be too much to carry the body of a person you loved a long distance, Harry knew that from experience.
He would have to search on foot now, he had become rather sensitive to magical signatures and the diadem was sure to be exuding a strong amount of magical aura. It was after all an item created by one of the four founders.
Harry closed his eyes and allowed his magic to flow out of him, like magical feelers he spread his magic and felt around for any disturbances. He wasn't quite sure how he did it, Harry thought it must be connected to the Final Battle where he had literally released an explosion of magic. Harry had been greatly distressed by the death of Ron and Hermione, it had been purely instinctual. Just a glimpse of their dead bodies being thrown around in the air by Death Eaters had Harry's blood boiling and his heart racing. All Harry heard was a massive boom, all he saw was a shockwave hit all those surrounding him and then he could only stand by as their bodies disintegrated. The Master of Death hadn't been unscathed, but he had survived which was something Harry really didn't want to live with. The only comfort Harry had was that he would be able to join them after he was done here.
Forcing himself to push harder he spread his magic to his maximum, Harry could feel himself sweating with the effort. When Harry found nothing he started to get frustrated, he had been wandering in the woodlands for hours and all that he had found was a stupid statue. He tried not to dwell on the fact that he was probably just annoyed that he had dragged up memories from the Battle of Hogwarts-which was not something Harry liked to think about. He had to keep on track, but it was hard. The Final Battle had happened only a few days ago, even though it felt much longer. He could barely absorb the fact that he would never be able to meet Ron and Hermione outside the common room for their midnight adventures in Hogwarts, that he would never get to eat a meal in the great hall again and that he would never even have the opportunity to worry about childish things like homework and detentions.
Shaking his head to rid himself of those thoughts, he would get far too depressed if he carried on that way, Harry summoned his magic back to himself and immediately felt less exhausted. It would a be a good idea for him to take a break now and regain his energy. He had a long time before he would be able to get dinner at the hotel so he decided that he should fish out some of the food he had bought from the village when he had purchased the map of Albania. Thinking about the map reminded him that he should probably mark on the location of Helena's statue so that it would be easier to mark off where he had searched around the area. He could already picture in his mind where the statue was so he would be able to apparate there with no issue when he came back.
Summoning a blanket and then taking out a selection of pumpkin pasties, sandwiches, sweets and a bottle of water. Harry took a seat and then began to eat, if felt nice to just be able to sit down and relax without worrying that he may have to pack up and run at any moment, that a Death Eater would swoop down on him and bring him to Voldemort to die. It was rather refreshing, even if he would have preferred if he wasn't alone on this adventure, at least he wouldn't be dragging anyone along to suffer with him either.
While he ate Harry contemplated the fact that he had not detected anything in the surrounding area apart from the statue in his search. His magic had reached at least 400 metres in every direction, at his limit, and he doubted that the Baron would have walked from a distance further than that. Harry briefly wondered if the diadem would be in the statue but it was unlikely, it would have been strange for the diadem to be on the Baron's mind when he had just killed his beloved. However, he did consider the fact that the events of the murder/suicide could have been different. Maybe Helena had died before she had managed to hide the diadem in the hollow tree and that would explain why the statue was the only thing giving off any magic.
That was the best idea Harry had so far, but he was still hesitant. He didn't want to go rushing into things and destroy a centuries old statue on a hunch. Harry may have been into mythology but art wasn't his thing, even then he knew that there were many people who would be less than impressed if he destroyed the statue of one of the founder's children.
He could still examine it thoroughly to determine whether or not the diadem was there or if it had been taken. Harry only had a week here so he wanted to make sure he got the job done. Taking out the book on the founders that he had purchased at Diagon Alley, Harry got to reading. He wanted to find out if there could possibly be an heir to the Ravenclaw line that would deserve to know the diadem still existed.
Turning to the chapter dedicated to Rowena Ravenclaw, Harry found a huge family tree spanning a double page. Harry looked at the directions at the top of the page and tapped it with his wand, the family tree floated out of the book and expanded into the air until Harry was faced with a huge floating family tree. All that Harry was interested in was the bottom levels of the tree which directed him towards the only name-Adira Mayfair. The family tree also gave the blood status of the person and Adira was revealed to be the half-blood heir of the Ravenclaw fortune. To make sure that the rightful owner got the diadem, Harry would have to perform a ritual.
It wasn't a very...light ritual but it was necessary for what he wanted to find out. He had discovered the ritual so that he could gain the right to officially own the sword of Gryffindor. He had needed an artefact from the ancestor and the blood of the potential heir to complete the ritual; however, Harry was well aware that if the heir failed the test, then the object would automatically go to the correct owner. Hence, if Harry attempted the test on himself, then he would be sure the diadem ended up where it was meant to.
The Master of Death decided that he should head back to the hotel so that he could make a plan of action for the next day. He had made it far in the little time he had been working but he needed to be even faster, he doubted that Riddle would have his reservations about destroying the statue to find the diadem.
~Stupid freaking line breaks~
Several days later, Harry was getting frustrated. He was now about 99.9% sure that the diadem was buried with Helena. It was getting to the point where Harry was convincing himself that he would be able to re-construct the statue if he had to destroy it. That idea was pretty freaking tempting!
However, before it got to that stage Harry wanted to try and levitate the statue so that he could examine the remains. (Which was still something that Harry was freaking out about). Bracing himself, Harry raised the Elder wand and cast 'Wingardium Leviosa' upon the statue. Watching it steadily rise, Harry felt vaguely satisfied when he managed to move the statue successfully without damaging it. He also felt quite cautious as he wandered closer, he really hoped that the Bloody Baron hadn't tried to preserve the body because that would be beyond creepy. Peering into the hole beneath the statue, Harry saw a frail skeleton curled in on itself. Clenched in a bony hand was the diadem that Harry had been searching for. Feeling rather apprehensive, the Master of Death reached down and plucked the diadem out of her hand and skittered back a few paces to make sure he was out of the way if anything peculiar should occur. He didn't particularly fancy having his face mauled off by a skeleton.
After a few moments and a lack of action from the pit, Harry allowed himself to relax a tad so that he could return the statue to it's rightful place. Making sure that everything was as he had found it, Harry decided that he would not be returning after his business was done here. He was lucky that he hadn't run into Riddle with all the time he had spent near the statue.
All that Harry had left to do was the ritual so that the diadem would be where it belonged. Summoning a table, Harry placed the diadem in the middle of the table and then proceeded to carve a rune circle around the diadem. Once that was done, Harry clumsily cut his thumb and spread it over the runes muttering Latin under his breath the whole time. It was nothing spectacular, just a puff of blue smoke and then the diadem was gone. For some reason, this made Harry feel the most relaxed he had been in days. He felt like he had achieved something after all this time and that felt good, he liked the elation he felt at helping other people. It may sound cheesy but he had always got a high when he did good things.
Harry would spend his last few days at the hotel/bar with Jak, Loran and Dita before he would move on to the next stage of his quest. He really enjoyed their company but he knew that getting attached was unwise. He had spent a few evenings talking with Jak and his banter was something that Harry would definitely miss, he held on to the habit of calling Harry Bolla, which he pretended to be offended by but Harry rather enjoyed it. He thought it was rather funny.
Harry paused for a moment to vanish the table and look at his surroundings one last time before twisting on the spot and vanishing. He didn't notice the dark shadow that quietly emerged from the trees to watch him leave.
...
...
...
...
Okay, Now this is my first serious story so PLEASE TELL ME IF YOU THINK IT WAS GOOD! I have already completed the first 4 parts so I will try to update regularly ;) If anyone wants to beta for me, because I know that I make mistakes, then I would greatly appreciate it! Constructive criticism is welcome but please don't just bash on me!
