Memoirs of the Master of Death


Chapter 1: Everything has to start somewhere


"Ron?"

The redhead turned around as he heard his girlfriend's voice, a smile on his face, as soon as he saw the expression on her face however, it froze.

She looked worried. Very worried.

And frankly it worried Ron. After all this was a time to rejoice and mourn those they had lost. The war against the dark lord Voldemort was finally over. Harry had seen to it. Now they had to rebuild.

But if he interpreted the look on Hermione's face correctly, he was going to be faced with something he would rather not deal with.

"What wrong Hermione?"

She shook her head and ran her hand through her hair. A gesture that clearly showed that something was bothering her. She looked harried.

"Hermione?"

Their gazes met.

"It's Harry Ron, I can't find him."

Ron blinked and looked around, searching for the familiar mob of black hair. He could not find Harry among the people working around him.

"Neville?"

The other boy looked up from where he was taking care of the Devilssnares that had been used to defend the castle against the Deatheater., and looked at Ron questioningly.

"Have you seen Harry?"

"I saw him at breakfast, but since then…" Neville shook his hand and shrugged. "Sorry. Maybe he is with Ginny?"

"Thanks Nev." The other boy waved him of and Ron turned towards his girlfriend again.

"Have you checked with Ginny?"

She scowled at him.

"Of cause I have. No one has seen in since shortly after breakfast. Luna said that Harry got a letter."

Ron laughed.

"Well he has been getting a lot of those lately, hasn't he. Defeating the dark Lord again. Why ever would people want to write to him."

He chuckled, but upon noticing that the brunettes expression hadn't changed at all he stopped and frowned.

"What's the problem Hermione?"

She looked around again, her eyes searching every corner for their best friend.

"She said something strange. And no-" She gave him a stern glare as he opened his mouth to answer. "I am quite aware that that is no unusual behavior for Luna. It is just what she said…"

She trailed off and started to walk up the great staircase that had been partly destroyed during the final battle. Ron followed behind wondering what the blond Ravenclaw could have said to make Hermione this worried.

"What did she say?"

Hermione opened and closed her mouth a couple of times before shaking her head. "I am probably overreacting. You know how Harry hates attention; maybe he just hid somewhere to get some peace and quiet. Yes." She nodded to herself and changed her course.

"That must be it. Let's check the library Ron."

Amused despite himself he grabbed her arm, forcing her to come to a halt.

"We are searching for Harry, Hermione, not for you."

"I just want to check." There was desperation in her voice and her eyes were beginning to fill with tears. Ron froze.

"Hermione." He sounded harsher than he had intended, but maybe she would finally tell him, what was bothering her. "What did Luna say, tell me."

She stared at a point over his head, and Ron could easily imagine Luna Lovegood doing the same thing, when she talked to Hermione earlier.

"She said… She said, that she saw Harry earlier and that he got a letter. A letter that made him very sad and happy, then he told her, that he was going to check something outside."

Ron blinked.

"And what about that got you so worried?"

She glared at him, no meeting his eyes.

"That not all she said. She said, that she told him, goodbye and that she was pleased to have called him a friend."

"What-?"

Ron had no idea what to think. Of course Luna occasionally said strange things, but they were never like that. After all if Hermione relied her words correctly, and he was quite sure that she had, then it did sound like Harry was dead, or going to die and that the conversation Luna and harry had in the morning was the last one they would have.

"Yes, and then she told me, that Harry's story was a really sad one. Why would she say something like that?"

Ron had no idea. While he knew that Harry's life had not been pleasant, the hardest part was over now. But to call a story sad… Ron would only do so once he knew the ending. And that was a very unsettling thought. He could easily say, that he did not know Luna all that well, and that she freaked him out a little, but he knew her well enough to know, that Luna Lovegood, would not say something like that without a good reason. And suddenly he understood all too well, why his girlfriend was so very worried.

"Alright. Let's find Harry."

Hermione gave him a tight smile and nodded.

"I have checked the great hall and the Gryffindor tower before that. Are you sure we should not check the library, maybe he is hiding there because no one would expect him too."

"Have you checked outside?"

She simply stared at him.

"Come on love, use that brilliant brain of yours. You yourself just told me, that Luna told you, that Harry wanted to take care of something outside. Shouldn't we check there first?"

Hermione blushed at the endearment he used but nodded in response.

"Of course, let's go. How could I have been so stupid."

Ron simply chucked and followed the witch as she turned on her heel, glad to have a general idea where to start their search while trying to ignore the bad feeling in his stomach and the worry, that they would not find Harry outside.

Luna's words always caused a reaction, but this time it was not funny.

As they reached the entrance hall again, Hermione looked back over her shoulder at him.

"Do you remember our talk in professor Dumbledore's office yesterday?"

Ron nodded.

"Do you think he is bringing the you-know-what, back to the headmasters grave?"

This time it was Hermione who nodded.

"Yes, he said, that he was going to take care of it today, didn't he? Maybe he just stayed outside a little."

"Yeah, maybe."

But he knew, that Harry had taken care of that yesterday evening after all. Ron had come with him and watched as his best friend placed the wand back in his dead mentors hands. Harry could still be there thought, Ron tried to reassure himself.

Maybe he simply went back there to find closure.

But they did not find their friend at the marble tomb either. Harry had not been here, the tomb was still split open showing Albus Dumbledore's dead body, no wand in sight. Ron felt his insides freeze.

"It seems like he wasn't here yet…"

Hermione trailed of as she noticed the look on his face and Ron swallowed with difficulty.

"He was here Hermione. We went here yesterday evening."

He could not meet her gaze instead he stared transfixed at the empty hands of the former headmaster.

"Harry put the wand back."

"But it's gone." Her voice held an edge of hysteria, but Ron could not blame her, he was fighting the feeling himself. Grasping her hand he forced himself to think of something they could do.

"Let's talk to Dumbledore's portray."

Hermione nodded and grasped his hand squeezing it.

"Yes let's… Maybe the letter Harry got was from the person who took the wand. Harry would have told Professor Dumbledore, wouldn't he?"

She was not looking at him as she talked though, dragging him behind her as she made her way through the hallways, or she would have seen the disagreement on his face. It was Hermione who had always urged Harry to talk to Dumbledore. His best friend, when left to his own devices, usually preferred to deal with such matters on his own.


On their way to Dumbledore's office Ron and Hermione had run into Professor McGonagall, who had inquired whether they had found Harry. She had seemed worried as well and had decided to accompany them, hoping to find Harry in the office itself.

Ron didn't share their enthusiasm however, he had the feeling that something was wrong and while he believed that going to the headmasters office was a good idea, he did not believe that they would find Harry there.

He was right.

The office was empty except for the portrays of the former headmasters. Professor Dumbledore was just popping a Lemon Drop, he had insisted to be painted with a bowl full of them, in his mouth when they entered.

"Ah Minerva, Mr. Weasley, Mr. Granger, it is good to see you all…"

He trailed off as he noticed their anxious expressions.

"Is something bothering you?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes sir, we can't find Harry..:"

She was cut off by a derisive snort. It seemed like Professor Snape had decided to join their conversation and planned on doing so by insulting Harry. Ron wondered if the man would ever get bored of it.

He did not get far however, as Hermione threw him a glare that would have made the dark Lord proud. Professor Snape fell quite and glared back at Hermione, Professor Dumbledore however set up straight in his chair.

"Is something wrong with Harry?"

His eyes wander over the new headmistress and the two former students. Ron was the only one who gave a reaction. He shrugged.

"Eh, that's what we would like to know sir. No one has seen him since this morning and…"

He trailed of and looked towards Hermione, hoping that she would inform the others what they had found, or rather not found in Professor Dumbledore's grave.

She did not look at him, instead she was staring at the frame of Dumbledore's portray.

"Well we are worried, he got a letter this morning, Luna said something strange… and…"

Ron hesitated but in the end decided that stalling did not gain them anything.

"Your wand is gone sir, Harry and I brought it back yesterday evening, but the grave is empty."

No one said a thing, but McGonagall looked up worriedly, she had not know of this development, Snape looked uneasy, but it was Professor Dumbledore's reaction that surprised Ron the most.

He seemed defeated.

"Sir?"

Hermione had noticed it was well and was looking at the portray, eyes full of worry.

Dumbledore looked up and gave a small smile, but it was not very convincing.

"Ah, I had just hoped, that it would be over, that the wand would be forgotten.."

Ron snorted and flinched under the glares he was receiving, but really what were they expecting. Harry had announced the existence of the wand and his mastery of it in the middle of the great hall, surrounded by students, creatures, death eaters and order members.

Someone would have figured out where Harry would place it and of course someone would come for it.

It had only been a matter of time after all.

But still, Ron felt a little bad about it, the headmaster had seemed so relived yesterday when Harry had told him, that it was over, hearing now, not even a day later that it would begin anew… It was sad.

Just as Ron was about to say something, apologize maybe, he wasn't sure, another voice interrupted.

"You do not have to worry about the wand."

All heads turned towards the sorting hat.

"The wand is history."

It seemed amused to part with this knowledge.

"What do you mean?"

It was Hermione who managed to collect herself enough to ask the old frail hat this question.

"The Elder wand is destroyed."

Dumbledore was the only one letting out a sigh of relief.

"But where is Harry?"

Yes Ron, decided, that was the question and everything else could wait until they had the answer.

"That I do not know."

But Ron had the feeling that the hat knew more than that and they simply needed to ask the questions differently to find out the truth.

"Do you know anything about the letter Harry got this morning?"

The other occupants of the room turned towards him, but on ignored them in favor of staring at the old hat.

"Indeed I do."

And then the hat seemed to jump an something feel out of it. Hermione picked it up and stared at it. I was an envelope and seal was broken.

She looked up from it towards the hat.

"How did you get it?"

The hat seemed to shrug.

"Mr. Potter asked me to keep it until someone asked after it."

"When was Potter here?" It was Professor Snape who broke the silence. "Was he sneaking around with that blasted cloak of his again?"

The sorting hat hummed but did not answer.

While they were talking Hermione had unfolded the letter and started reading it.

She froze after a moments and Ron could see her eyes return to the top of the letter again, only to freeze again.

"Hermione? What's wrong?"

That got everyone's attention.

"This letter… I don't understand."

Professor Dumbledore smiled genially.

"Read it out loud, will you Mrs. Granger. I think we would all like to hear it."

Hermione nodded and her voice shook as she started to read.

My beloved Harry,

Receiving a letter from me might seem terribly strange to you, but it really is from me. As I write this letter you are lying next to me on the sofa playing with your plush animals – for some strange reason you like the dog more than the stag! And I cannot help but chuckle at the idea, that you will be reading this letter many years from now, already of age.

If I would not know it to be so, I could not believe that you would ever grow into an adult. It feels like you were born just yesterday.

But I write this letter, because there is a message that I have to give you and I know, that I will never see you grow up. Strange as it may seem it is not a message from me, but from a man, to whom I own my life. It is a message from the man you were named after: Harold Evans.

It might shock you to read this, but it is the truth. Who would have thought that James Potter would name his son after the Dark Lords right hand man?

Had you told me so a little more than a year ago I would have laughed in your face and declared you as someone in need of a mind healer.

But I did name you after him, and he did give me a message for you.

I don't know whether you are aware of the fact, that shortly before your birth I was involved in a mission for the Order of the Phoenix that went terribly wrong. My partner died I ended up in captivity.

I thought I would die and never get to know my child. I didn't even know that I would be the father of a baby boy, since Lily had wanted our baby's gender to be a surprise. When my cell door opened I thought that it would be the end, so you can imagine my surprise when the person who came for me, a man with black hair, streaked with gray and eyes in the color of the killing curse, simply looked at me for a moment before giving a tired sight and releasing me from my chains.

I had recognized him the moment I saw him, he was infamous after all.

The dark Lords right hand man, a duelist whose skill was only rivaled by that of Lord Voldemort himself and a known Necromancer.

The man who had raised Voldemort's army of inferi.

Horror scenario after scenario run threw my head, but he simply pulled me to my feet and healed the wounds I had received from the previous interrogation am minor Death Eater had put me through.

I was confused but too tired to put up a fight, resigned to the fate I was sure was waiting for me. Then he handed me my wand ( and my wedding ring that they had taken from me to torment me), and told me to follow him.

As you might imagine I thought about fighting him for a second, but something about the way he was looking at me stopped me. So I followed him as he led me out of the hideout that I was being held in.

It was only when we stood at the edge of the apparition wards, that he talked again. Telling me to go to my wife and son.

I asked him why he helped me, his answer was something that could have come out of Sirius mouth, but was totally unexpected coming from the dark lords right hand.

"It seemed like a good idea at that time."

I was flabbergast and starred at him until I managed to collect myself enough and ask him what he wanted in return. Fearing that he would ask me to spy on the Order.

He told me that he wanted me to name my son Harry - after him.

It was such a ridiculous thing, that I nearly dropped my wand. Again I asked him why and he told me, that it was a long story. I unfortunately did not have the time to listen to it. Then he looked at me and a shadow passed over his face before he asked me to give him a vow, that I would not try to change the future as it had to play out.

Even if his request did not make sense to me and given the fact, that his wand was pressed against my throat I gave the vow. He told me that terrible things happen to wizards who meddle with time, and it sounded like a warning, that I would only understand when I held you in my arms.

Harold pushed me across the boundary of the wards and told me, that he would sent me a book once you were born. As I tried to apperate away he stopped me again and told me to rely this message to you.

A rather curious message if you ask me and at that time it made no sense to me, just like the fact that he was sure I would be the father of a son, your father, did confuse me. But a Potter always keeps his word.

I did return home and on the day of your birth I received a book, written by hand and with a rather peculiar title: Memoirs of the Master of Death.

I wondered why he would give me his biography until I read it. I hid it under the gravestone of my ancestor Ignotus Peverell and it answered more question then I ever dared to ask. Told me more, then I ever wanted to know.

Harry, know that I love you and that I am proud of the man you were and of the man you will be. As I know, no matter what you do. You will be great.

And now I repeat the message to you, the message that I know you will understand.

"It begins and ends with the wand of destiny and you must end it so the circle can be broken once and for all."

Love,

your father,

James.

P.S. It won't be easy, but I know you will see it through till the very end Harry, no matter if you call yourself Harry Potter or Harold Evans.

After she finished reading, silence reigned.


Harry landed on the unforgiving ground and his breath was knocked out of him. He blinked, once, twice, before forcing himself into a sitting position. He was still outside and the place looked familiar, he could easily make out Hogwarts looming above him, but something was missing.

Something important that could not simply be moved away.

Dumbledore's grave was gone.

The ground lay unmarred before him.

Harry looked around and finally his gaze fell on the two broken pieces of the wand next to him.

The Elder wand, broken and charred, barely recognizable. He picked it up and put it into his pocket, feeling a distinct unease at the realization, that he was now wandless.

He remembered leaving his wand in the jacket he had worn during the reconstruction of the great hall, he had just discarded it, when the letter arrived and hadn't bothered to pick it up, to dumbfounded by the letter he could still feel in the pocket of his trousers.

Cursing himself he stood up, brushing of the grass and dirt that clung to his clothes. Voldemort may be dead, but running off without a wand was more than just foolish, he could almost hear Madeye's voice barking in his head. Constant Vigilance! Well it would not happen again, Harry told himself. He would get a wandholster, no more stuffing wands into pockets.

Shrugging he turned towards Hogwarts and the unease he felt intensified. Hogwarts was perfect, looking exactly the way it had looked when he had first seen it and that was the problem.

Hogwarts was supposed to be damaged. The giants had laid waste to the entrance hall and he was quite sure that one of the towers had been damaged as well.

Something was terribly wrong. Harry hoped that the backslash that had occurred when he had snapped the Elder wand in half had simply knocked him out and he was simply dreaming now, but his instincts told him that this was not the case. And Harry had learned to trust his instincts the hard way, because usually they were right.

He took a closer look at his surroundings, searching for other indications that could give him a clue as to what had happened to him.
It was only when he looked at the place where, he knew with uttermost certainty; the Whomping Willow should be that a suspicion began to form in his mind.

Harry shock his head, forcing the thought away.

It was impossible, timetravel was only possible in a very limited timeframe and with the help of a timeturner. The Willow had been planted when his father had gone to Hogwarts, more than twenty years ago and the timeturner could send one back twenty four hours at most.

A voice in the back of his head chided him, telling him, that the Elder Wand, the Deathstick, the wand of Destiny was certainly capable of more than a delicate little pendant, but he pushed it away.

He had just managed to survive Voldemort and end the dark wizard once and for all. He was not ready for another adventure yet, but still he continued to steadily walk towards the entrance.

Gently pushing open the gates he stepped into the castle and his breath caught as his eyes fell onto the unblemished entrance hall. In front of his minds eye he could still see the rubble lying at the feet of the great staircase, or the door of the great hall – blown out of its hinges together with a great part of the wall.

It was surreal and Harry simply kept standing in the middle of the room, looking around aimlessly and wondering, what he should do now.

Distinctly he could remember Hermione telling him about the rules of time travel in his third year when they had set out to save Sirius. He was not supposed to be seen, yet should he really have travel in time, that was not helping him at all.

How was he supposed to return home?

Unlike Hermione he wasn't extraordinary smart and certainly not able of coming up with a way to travel into the future. Was it even possible to travel forward in time?

The last time they had to wait for the moment they left to travel back to take their places again.

"And who might you be?"

He was pulled out of his musings and turned towards the direction from where he had heard the voice. A man was standing on the top of the staircase and looking down to him curiously, but with a distinct air of carefully veiled suspicion.

Something about him was familiar, but it took Harry a moment to place the youthful face with the one he was accustomed to.

It was Dumbledore.

His hair was red and he looked considerably younger than the last time Harry had seen him, but it was still Dumbledore. Not Harry's Dumbledore though, but the Dumbledore Harry had seen insider Tom Riddles diary and the pensive.

An around fifty years younger Dumbledore.

And that could only mean that there was more truth to his explanation than he had hoped. Harry opened his mouth to answer, but he froze halfway through.

"I- I…"

The words his father had written echoed through his head and suddenly they gained a new, horrible meaning. At familiarity he had felt towards it, making it more than just the name of one of Voldemort's followers.

Shaking his head Harry forced himself to swallow the bile rising in his throat.

There was only one way to find out.

"I'm sorry. My name is Harold Evans, sir."


I hope it was enjoyable.

This is a story that I started writing a couple of years ago when I was very much into the whole TMR x HP pairing. A number of scenes from this verse are already written, but since the story would be very very long (the whole plot can be seen on my tumblr) and it is unlikely I will ever really finish it I decided to upload the one chapter I actually finished.

I'm not sure what to do with it. Would people be interested in seeing what i have already written?