Welcome back, dear readers, to "Knowledge Comes At A Price".

He who jumps into the void owes no explanation to those who stand and watch.

Chain Reaction

Shadows were, by their very nature, deceptive.

Most would see them as two-dimensional immaterial shapes, stretching from physical objects, shying away from light sources, but a scientific point of view would reveal them to be three-dimensional instead, nothing but an absence of light inside a certain volume of space. A physicist would then use words like light sources or diffusion, umbra, penumbra and antumbra, perhaps even shadow blister effect if he or she really knew his or her subject.

Truly, shadows were strange.

According to one Harry James Potter, they were also f*cking terrifying.

Now, he didn't claim to own a PhD in physics, but he'd read Nirnian books and used his Cloak often enough to be familiar with shadows. Those things weren't mere shapes or an absence of light, they were otherworldly echoes, glimpses of events taking place beyond the veil, gates to other realities. On Nirn anyway. Here on Earth, things were… a bit different.

The young wizard was presently moving through Hogwarts, his entire body distorted into incoherent wisps of shadows by the daedric cloak wrapped around his presently non-existent shoulders. A cloak he'd been using incorrectly for weeks because, for some freaking reason, the daedric artifact didn't actually require daedric energy. The stuff was too potent and overwhelmed the cloak, which much preferred mundane Nirnian magic. Harry had basically been turning himself into a completely unnatural empty spot, thus becoming visible by being way way too invisible.

Hadn't that been a kick in the pants.

The castle was a blur around him, its oblivious inhabitants slightly out of phase, walls and doors cracked like shards of broken glass. Not another world per say, more like another dimension hiding beneath reality, underlapping it.

If he'd been able to formulate complex thoughts, Harry would have compared it to the muggles' budding internet. Omnipresent, invisible, frighteningly potent.

[Unease]

He couldn't, obviously. How was he supposed to formulate deep, reflecting thoughts without his brain? Emotions and simple feelings were about the only thing he could still express.

"You mortals are way too dependent on your flesh."

The situation didn't seem to bother Hermaeus Mora though.

[Irritation]

Harry had been traveling through this realm for about a month now and the out-of-body experience hadn't got any easier. The sensation of utter emptiness that permeated the place was about the worst thing he'd ever experienced and knowing that he could somehow feel it when he didn't have anything even remotely resembling a nervous system was headache-inducing… except he didn't have a head either!

It was maddening and the less time he had to spend in this state, the better. All the steps to and fro Lucius' bedside to dose the guy on Fear spells were more than enough already and he couldn't wait for the trial to take place. With his sorry ass in Azkaban, the dementors would take up the mantle and Harry would finally get to rest a bit. Complotting against someone was surprisingly exhausting.

Finally reaching his intended destination, the wizard emerged in a spacious and brightly lit office, shelves filled to the brim with books and miscellaneous trinkets bearing the Ravenclaw crest. Filius Flitwick's office reminded him of Dumbledore's, in a way, just without the spying paintings.

Standing before the Head of House's desk, a batch of students were waiting for a verdict of sort, clearly related to the sheet of paper held by their Head of House.

Whatever that paper was, Filius Flitwick looked just as thrilled as his students.

[Amusement] conveyed the Daedric contractor, before returning to the physical world.

Just in time to catch the end of the discussion.

"...'ll allow it." conceded the Charm teacher, signing and filing away the form. "If I find out that you disregarded the usual safety rules however, you will immediately disband. And do keep me updated, will you?"

"We will sir, thank you." bowed the Ravenclaws, most of them immediately launching into some animated magicobabble as they exited the room.

Harry purposely ignored the blonde waving at him – one headache was enough, he didn't want to deal with an anthropomorphic one.

Soon, their voices couldn't be heard anymore and the wizard made his presence known.

"They looked pretty excited." he commented casually, making the half-goblin jump in his chair.

"Dear god, don't do that!" yelled the professor, grabbing his chest and glaring at the empty spot where the voice had come from. "I almost had a heart attack."

"We both know you're tougher than that."

"Our innocent researcher." realized the half-goblin, recognizing his scrambled voice. "To what do I owe this impromptu visit?"

"I need a favor."

"Of course you do." he sighed, wiping his quill and capping his inkwell. "What is it this time? Another Parseltongue-protected backdoor in need of unexpected warding? A second Hallow? Another class five threat?"

"No, no and not exactly. I misplaced a basilisk skin the other day and I was wondering if you knew where I could find it?"

Sometimes, people lost textbooks, homework, even items of clothing... his mother's elf had somehow managed to lose a thirty-something feet long basilisk shedding.

Where the hell had it disappeared to and how in Oblivion had Dobby managed to lose that?

The house elf had had no satisfactory answers to provide and Harry was now forced to look somewhere else, hence his current inquiry.

He supposed he could have asked Septima Vector, but he still hadn't the foggiest why Mora had wanted him to reveal himself to the Arithmancy professor, so he'd settled on Flitwick instead.

"... you misplaced what?"

"A basilisk's skin? From that class five creature I removed from Slytherin's Chamber? I didn't skin the actual snake, obviously, because that would have been messy and extremely time-consuming, but I did find a thirty-something feet long shed skin. Tough scales, surprisingly light and extremely resistant to spells, perfect to make proper body armor. Except I didn't really have the time back then, what's with the Elder Wand turning into a Wireless transmitter, so I stored the skin in an unused classroom on the sixth floor. I thought that since it had kept for centuries, it would keep for a few more weeks, you know? Anyway, I took a pretty nasty curse the other day – protecting one of your students, long story - and decided to retrieve the thing before something even nastier gets to punch through my shields. Unsurprisingly, it had since gone missing, so here I am, looking for whoever decided than stealing my property was a good idea. Has anyone reported finding it? One of the prefects or patrolling teachers? The Aurors? Filch perhaps?"

"I… I… a moment please."

Quick breaths, shaking hands and… cupcakes. The diminutive professor urgently dug in his emergency stash and started munching on the sugary pastries, getting over his shock with the power of baked goods.

"Okay, I'm… I'm good." he stuttered, half a dozen biscuits later. "So, a basilisk skin over thirty feet long, from what had to be a thousand year old specimen belonging to Salazar Slytherin himself… no, I can safely say that nobody reported anything of the sort."

Which ruled out the Aurors and the faculty, as both of them were certainly entitled to report such a discovery, but did nothing to exculpate the students.

The noose was tightening.

"It couldn't have been smuggled out either, moving something of that size through the school wouldn't have been inconspicuous and the paintings would have seen something." continued Flitwick, absently stroking his mustache. "Have you perhaps discussed the matter with our resident thief?"

"I did. He didn't do it."

Cedric was too busy bleeding.

"Well, there's simply no culprit then." he concluded. "Unless you have another accomplice with that level of skills hiding somewhere, that is."

…

Nah, if Luna had taken the skin, she would have already blackmailed him into doing something stupid.

"I don't and what do you mean, no culprit? Basilisk skin don't just spontaneously vanish."

"They do here."

"... elaborate please?"

"I suspect the school identified the skin as detritus and chose to clean itself."

"Wait a minute, you're telling me that Hogwarts is alive?"

"Self-aware, at least. Whether or not it is fully sentient is debatable."

"And it stole my skin?"

"I believe so, yes."

There was a bloody Nightingale running around and he was robbed by an inanimate castle?

"How can I get my property back then? Do I have to ask nicely?"

"Mmh, I suppose it could work." mused the Charm teacher, actually taking the question seriously. "Though it may be more prudent to let me do the talking. Meepy!"

Something popped and a female house elf bearing the Hogwarts crest appeared out of thin air.

"Professor Flitwick called Meepy?" she asked.

"I did." smiled the half-goblin. "An acquaintance recently asked me what happens to objects removed from the grounds by the school and I was unable to answer him. I was wondering if, by any chance, you would know anything about that?"

"Meepy knows." she confirmed, ears flapping around. "Hogwarts puts lost things in the Come and Go room. Meepy can show you."

A hidden lost and found probably filled to the brim with centuries of memorabilia?

Yes please.

"That would be much appreciated, thank you."

Filius Flitwick didn't know if he was supposed to be enthusiastic or absolutely infuriated.

Ever since he'd encounter Azra Nightwielder and the present invisible company, his nice, tranquil life had turned into a minefield. He couldn't go one full week without being dragged into some strange, unexpected adventure that almost invariably ended up with Albus yelling at him, for one reason or another. Granted, the last earful he'd received had been from Septima, but the point still stood.

And here he was again, following a house elf to some lost and found room hidden somewhere on the seventh floor, to retrieve a thirty-something feet long basilisk's skin, shadowed by the aforementioned invisible stranger.

He hadn't been so thrilled since that dueling championship in 1979.

He hadn't exactly felt so pissed off since then either.

A freaking basilisk! In Salazar Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets! By the stones, you don't just drop that kind of news on someone without proper warning. He'd been that close to a panic attack and his stash of cupcakes had only barely staved it off. If… whatever his name was, kept that up, the vertically-challenged teacher would be done for before Christmas.

Thinking about it, he really needed to ask for his name, or at least a pseudonym, he was getting tired of calling him 'the other one' when he talked to Septima.

It would have to wait a few more minutes though, Meepy wasn't exactly aware of their friend's presence and they were about to reach the seventh floor.

"The Come and Go room opens here." indicated the elf, walking up to a solid wall. "Professor Flitwick must think of what he wants and walk by the entrance three times. The room will answer."

"Thank you Meepy, you can go."

"Professor Flitwick." bowed the elf, before repeating the gesture slightly to the side. "Master Abyss."

Pop.

"What the fu…"

Filius' eyebrow rose.

"... heck?"

Better.

"So, Abyss huh?"

"I have no idea where she got that from." replied the invisible student. "But you can't exactly call me 'innocent researcher' forever, so I suppose Abyss will do."

A door slowly emerged from the wall, his companion having apparently followed Meepy's instructions.

"Now, let's take a look at that room."

He made no further comment on the elf somehow detecting him.

Filius didn't call him out on it.

The door leaf was promptly thrown open, the Come and Go room revealing itself in all of its disorganized beauty as the Head of Ravenclaw passed the threshold. His eager eyes roamed over the mounts of objects lost to the ages, stopping for a split second on a massive basilisk skin before resuming their exploration.

He'd taught at Hogwarts for over twenty years now, how had he managed to miss this place?

"We have a problem."

Abyss' voice was so sharp, so devoid of his usual nonchalance that it sent a chill down the half-goblin' spine, effectively bringing him out of his trance. He stopped to eye-ra… huh, admire the room and glanced to the side, where he believed the school's unofficial protector stood.

"What is it?" he asked, putting on his Master Dueler persona.

"Something here is cursed." came the reply, a sphere of golden light – what sort of spell was that? - suddenly erupting into existence. "Cursed to the teeth."

"How do you -"

The rest of his question was ignored when the globe sped off toward the back of room, leaving Filius in the dust. Swearing in Gobbledegook, the Charm professor hurriedly followed the light through the aisles, running as fast as his short legs allowed him to.

Left, right, around a pile of left socks, left, avoid the huge chest in the way, left again, right, don't knock over the incomprehensibly lit brazier, right, don't mind the passing broom, right, you have reached your destination.

The glowing orb had stopped, hovering before a table covered in dusty jewelries and as he discovered a disturbingly familiar diadem, elation and dread simultaneously bloomed in Filius' guts.

"Tell me it's not the diadem." he pleaded, an aching lump in his throat. "Please, everything but the diadem."

"... I'm sorry." apologized Abyss, his hovering spell dissipating. "Whatever it was, it was defiled."

"Not a Ravenclaw then." half-chuckled, half-choked the Head of House. "Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure. This is… was, the Lost Diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw, said to possess magical properties enhancing the wearer's wisdom. What happened to it?"

Those last words had been growled, the man utterly pissed that someone had had the nerves to temper with this priceless legacy.

"Voldemort stuck a piece of his soul in it." replied the student without missing a beat, freezing Filius' blood in his veins.

Not because of the taboo name, or the fact that the former dark wizard was involved. After all, his evening had been officially shot the moment Abyss had entered his office, so why not add a Dark Lord to the mix? No, his blood froze because he couldn't find it in himself to be even remotely concerned enough by this new development.

It seemed dealing with Azra and Abyss had seriously screwed with his sense of normality.

"Step back, I need space." instructed his interlocutor, right hand fading into visibility with blood dripping from the index.

Okay, what?

"Wait, what are you…?"

"I'm fixing this." cut Abyss, scant on details.

The bloody finger immediately lowered to the ground and began to draw lines and characters in some complicated design, clearly a runic scheme of sort.

Fixing this? How? By exorcising the soul or by destroying the headgear? Not that it really mattered he supposed, that taint definitely had to go, but option one sounded a lot better.

Still, he remained silent as the mostly invisible student focused on his task for about two minutes, the ritual becoming more and more intricate under the puzzled eyes of the Charm professor. He recognized certain patterns, but most of the characters were completely foreign. What sort of runic alphabet was that? And don't tell him that Abyss had come up with it, because that would be pushing it.

Finishing the incomprehensible scheme, the aforementioned wizard rose an orange-glowing hand toward the diadem, engulfing it in a similar glow and making it float over to a small circle of bloody markings.

Telekinesis now?

"Fair warning." said Abyss as he produced a mat black crystal of sort from somewhere on his person, the gem taking its place in another circular amalgam of drawings on the opposite side of the ritual. "This is an as of yet untested experimental design that may or may not explode violently. You may want to conjure a shield or two."

No need to tell him twice. Thirty seconds later, the Head of House was covered in enough defensive enchantments to stop dragon fire and bracing himself for whatever was about to happen.

He wasn't disappointed.

Abyss' magic pulsed, his spilled blood came to life and a crimson barrier sprung over the entire ritual. Then, a thin tube of swirling purple energies formed, connecting stone and diadem as the later began to vibrate, a horrid black ooze erupting from the ornament. Another part of the ritual shone and the purple vortex widened, sucking in the goo. Filius watched, fascinated and horrified, as what had been hosted in Rowena's relic made contact with the black crystal and was absorbed into its depths, hissing - was that Parseltongue? - and screaming. In moments, the last speck of evil mud vanished and the stone produced a strange melodic noise, almost like a gust of icy wind blowing through willow trees.

"Huh, I guess it works." observed Abyss, unpowering what part of his rune-scheme surrounded the diadem, before retrieving the object and presenting it to Filius. "There you go, one cleansed Founder relic."

The Head of House received it with trembling hands, overwhelmed by emotion.

"Thank you." he croaked. "Ravenclaw House is in your debt."

"You helped me find the skin and a phylactery, consider the debt settled… though I wouldn't be against taking a closer look at that diadem later." replied the partly-visible wizard, returning to his ritual. "As for you, you persistent moron, you are in serious trouble."

His hand moved, a final set of runes was expertly drawn around the previous ritual and the entire scheme flashed, blinding Filius. When the spots in his vision disappeared, the blood runes and possessed crystal were nowhere to be seen.

"Two down, three more to g… FUCK ME SIDEWAYS!"

"Excuse me?!"

Completing his mother's ritual over the previous soul-trap, Harry – now dubbed Abyss by a school elf, which was extremely weird – wondered for the fifth time why he had even bothered letting Flitwick know about the soul piece or transferring it from the crown to a black soul gem with a bodged runic scheme, when Mora could have just decompose the entire thing and discreetly create a new one, leaving the Charm teacher none the wiser.

"Because being seemingly truthful and letting your teacher witness the cleansing of his most treasured legacy awarded you significantly more, his trust in you growing and giving you access not only to the diadem, but also to favors from him and his House." responded the Prince.

"And because I claimed that his debt was cleared, it only made it bigger in his head." mentally sighed the wizard. "I hate manipulating people like that."

"Yet you do it anyway." pointed out the Daedra. "Now focus on your runes and give me that soul piece."

Harry shook his head and powered the daedric scriptures, making the soul gem disappear in a flash of emerald light. Good thing the cloak could block electromagnetic radiation, or he would be seeing spots.

"The wraith has three other horcruxes."

Mora clearly didn't lose time when it came to consuming souls. Still, good to know.

"Two down, three more to g…" jovially began Harry.

"Sithis' stone is among them." added the Prince.

"FUCK ME SIDEWAYS!" objected his contractor.

"Excuse me?!" asked Professor Flitwick, eyes wide in disbelief.

"Sorry." he apologized sheepishly. "When I destroy a phylactery, I get a small feedback on what the soul fragment knew and I just got the worst news ever."

"So that's where your spells come from." mused the half-goblin.

"Sure, let's go with that." he shrugged. "Anyway, the fragment I found during the holidays taught me what they were and how to sense them. That second piece right now, told me of three others and remember when you asked if I'd found another Hallow?" he asked, receiving what was clearly a forced nod. "Yeah, Voldemort put a soul fragment in the Resurrection Stone. Now excuse me, I have to secure it before a primordial void deity decides to erase our universe from existence because some jackass played with his artifact."

Without further ado, he let the cloak cover his hand and vanished into the shadow realm, on his way to…where exactly?

[Inquiry]

"The Gaunt family house, Little Hangletown, Yorkshire."

[Exasperation]

Yep, that about summed it up.

When her fellow professor had come by her office to discuss his latest encounter with their invisible friend – who, apparently, went by the name Abyss – Septima Vector had fully expected another headache.

She got it – with a supplement of weirdness – in the form of two lost hidden chambers, a legendary relic from one of the school's founder, the shed skin of another's pet beast, souls pieces from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and a threat of universal extinction event.

Now, the whole bits of Dark Lord soul business was admittedly worrying and she would definitely look into it, but what really bothered her was…

"... a primordial void deity?"

"Yes."

"And you believed him?"

The wizard shrugged.

"He's been trustworthy so far, why wouldn't I?"

"Because he's talking about an imaginary relic and some random omnipotent being that could destroy the entire world on a whim?" she deadpanned. "What part of that sounds even remotely believable to you?"

"The Deathly Hallows are all too real, Septima." he replied with conviction. "Many goblins have reported their appearances throughout the ages, inevitably followed by death and misery. The wand obviously has the bloodiest history, but the stone wasn't spared its fair amount of bloodshed. Whichever deity is behind them, I do not want to meet."

The young Arithmancy teacher looked at her esteemed colleague, wondering when he'd ceased to be the second most logical and skeptical individual in the castle – the first one being Severus – to turn into a superstitious nutcase.

Two names starting with an A came to mind.

"Don't give me that look, swearing by Merlin and Magic itself is just as illogical and you do it frequently. Why then, would the existence of deities be so hard to conceive?"

"Because I'm just swearing by them, not deifying them!" the witch exclaimed herself. "Merlin was human and Magic is just a force of nature. It doesn't think, it cannot think. There's no such a thing as gods."

"And the Hallows?"

"Man-made, assuming they exist at all."

"We both heard Fawkes that night, you know Albus had the Elder Wand."

"No, I know that Albus' wand was powerful and dangerous, but you have no proof that it was in any way connected to a children's tale turned urban legend."

"We'll agree to disagree then." replied the half-goblin, shaking his head sadly. "Me and every other sentient magical species in the world."

Smart-ass.

"Just because you can't see it, Septima, doesn't mean it isn't there." he added as he rose from his seat. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have fifth-year essays to grade and a research club to formalize so I'll be on my way."

Septima replied politely and escorted him to the door, closing it behind him before scoffing soundly.

Gods, pfff.

Seated in a comfortable chair, up in the Gryffindor common room, Hermione Granger was having the time of her life re-re-re-re-re-reading her favorite birthday present. She was pretty sure that she'd just made a major discovery in the notes Harry had given her and had never felt so excited before.

Expect that one time when Professor MacGonagall had invited her to Hogwarts.

And the day she'd brought her wand.

And that same day when she'd successfully cast her first spell.

And her first day of classes.

And last year's Halloween night – the part when she'd gained her first friends, not the troll part.

And… yeah, she was pretty excited.

"...urder the jackass. I know he's absolutely bonkers, but that was just suicidal."

Talk about the devil...

"Harry, I was looking for you." enthusiastically called the witch as one of her best friends entered the tower playing with a… marble of sort. "I think I found something."

"That's great." he replied, quickly climbing up the boys' staircase. "But can you tell me about it lat-"

"Sure." she replied, following him to his room. "See, I was at breakfast, rereading your notes on the origins of spells and their observable effects -"

"Hermione."

"- most specifically the shifts in magic inside the caster's body, when Ron made an offhand comment about Seamus having his wand stolen by Peeves and accidentally exploding him to retrieve it and something just… clicked."

"Hermione."

"Seamus is so used to exploding things that he managed to do it without his wand – which is slightly worrying, if you think about it."

"Hermione."

"Anyway, I think there's a connection there, one you overlooked in your analysis. Harry, I think it could be the key to wandless magic!"

Her tirade coming to an end, the witch finally registered that she was standing before the boy's bathrooms. Harry was holding a change of clothes and his own attire was in a sorry state for some reason. He also looked really really sweaty.

The raven-haired boy looked at her with a tired expression for a few seconds, before raising his right hand and wandlessly casting a Lumos charm.

"Congratulation, you figured it out." he huffed in exasperation, extinguishing the floating orb of light. "You get a cookie and a piece of advice. It gets easier later on but the first spell is a bitch to learn, so good luck with that. Now excuse me, I really need a shower."

Then he shut the door on her face.

"HAAARRYYYYYYYYYY!"

The Gryffindor Common Room as a whole looked towards the boys' dorms as a familiar voice reverberated through the entire building.

"Kitchen?" asked a Weasley twin, sharing a glance with his brother.

"Kitchen." confirmed the other, already making for the door.

They definitely weren't running away, it was a tactical retreat.

Having just heard the good news from Luna, Sheogorath snapped his fingers and his throne promptly swallowed him, spiting him back out in one of Hermaeus' many testing facilities, deep within Apocrypha.

His brother/sister/parent/it's complicated was there, clearly hard at work as he stared intently at the Resurrection Stone, as if he wasn't seeing its physical form and instead scrutinizing its connection to the Void.

"A vengeful god wants to scoop your eyeballs out of your vitriol, roll for initiative." instructed the Prince of Madness, motioning at the black octahedron.

"Sheogorath." his brother greeted him, several eyes turning his way.

"Herm."

"Don't call me…" began the seething Prince of Knowledge, only to stop when he registered how futile it would be to finish that sentence. "Nevermind, what do you want?"

"I heard you found grandfather's stone and I was wondering if I could return it for you."

"No."

"Why? Didn't you have enough time to unveil its secrets? It's been in your possession for three hours, you're getting sloppy Herm."

"Go away, Sheogorath."

"Not happening, now give me that."

"No."

"Yes"

"No."

"Yes and don't be so obtuse. You're not getting anything else out of the stone and you know it. Now stop whining, it's getting ridiculous."

"... I hate you." deadpanned Apocrypha's creator, vanishing from the room, leaving the stone behind.

"Pleasure doing business with you." the Isles' ruler yelled to the sky, retrieving the stone before disappearing in his own portal.

He reformed in an endless expense of emptiness, devoid of light, matter, even time. The Void was everywhere and nowhere at the same time, encompassing everything. Someday, this place would devour all the lights in the sky.

"You've returned." observed a feminine voice to Sheogorath's left – or was that his right? - and he turned to face the woman.

"Grandma." he beamed at the redguard. "Long time no see. How are you and Grandpa doing? Do I have another uncle or aunt on the way?"

"I am fine, Mad God, as is my husband. And no, five children and seventeen stepchildren are already more than enough for this old lady. Now, tell me, how are you faring, my Hero?"

"Oh, he's fine… I mean, I'm fine… I...am..."

The immortal stumbled, head throbbing and pulse quickening. Bile rose in his throat and sweat rolled down his back. Convulsions began to spread through his whole body and, after an interminable moment, the Hero of Kvatch puked in the empty realm, the vile excretion vanishing in midair.

He hated regaining his sanity. Being able to think without the Prince of Madness' many voices urging him to go in twelve and a sixteenth different directions was nice, but the transitions themselves were extremely disagreeable.

"Hello, my Listener." smiled the Night Mother.

"Mother." he greeted awkwardly, wiping vomit from his mouth.

"I believe you have something for me?"

"I… I do. An agent of Hermaeus Mora recently found -" he fished the stone from one of his pocket. "- this artifact, which Nocturnal identified as belonging to your husband. Sheogorath… I, was returning it to you, so that it may once again serve the Brotherhood."

"Your loyalty to our family is much appreciated -" mused the Dread Father's wife, making no move to retrieve the stone. "- but you are misguided. The stone belongs to a bygone time. It served its purpose and much like you my child, it has no place here anymore."

"I… I see." stammered the former assassin. "Will it be destroyed then?"

"Perhaps, though not by my husband. He is content with one mortal realm and won't involve himself with this other one."

Of course Sithis would know about it, the brothers had passed right through the Void when they'd been exiled.

"So, should I keep it, return it to Earth, destroy it…?"

"I cannot say, the fate of the stone isn't mine to dictate anymore." replied the Night Mother. "You will have to decide by yourself, Listener."

One of the voices – back already? - suggested something interesting and the former Duke of Mania found himself agreeing.

"I think I already did." he smiled, putting the stone away before hugging the woman. "Thanks, Grandma."

A purple orb of energies erupted around his body and Lord Sheogorath left the dimension.

In the emptiness, the Night Mother muttered fondly about her crazy nutjob of a stepson/grandson.

Harry yawned under his covers, enjoying his Sunday so far.

Under normal circumstances, Oliver would have woken him up at dawn to practice, but the Quidditch Captain was down in the infirmary after a bludger had gone batshit insane and tried to murder him.

Lucky.

Also, after the room, the diadem and the stone, plus running away from Hermione, yesterday had been hectic and he could definitely use the down time. Especially since there were two other horcruxes out there that still needed to be taken care of.

The wizard yawned again, because you can never have too much of a good thing, and blindly extended his arm past the comfort of his bed, reaching for a wand so he could check the time. His fingers encountered the bed table and began to scrabble about.

Glasses, a pile of books, the stone, the photograph of his parents he'd taken out of Hagrid's album and had had framed in Diagon Allwait a minute!

Harry bolted upright and stared at the Resurrection Stone, innocently lying on his bed table.

What?

The Hallow helpfully responded with a pulse of raw daedric magic and he felt it connect to his core.

WHAT?!

"Necromancy is the new black." jovially projected Sheogorath, momentarily hijacking the mental link he shared with Mora. "Congratulation, it's a stone."

That was as good as a confession.

"Fuck this shit!" loudly stated the wizard, gathering the attention of his roommates. "I'm going back to sleep."

"Huh… okay." accepted Neville.

"It's 10.30, Harry." pointed out Seamus.

"Don't care, I'm not getting up and YOU CAN'T MAKE ME."

"We weren't going to try." wisely replied Dean.

"Are you okay, Harry?" asked Ron, puzzled by his friend's strange behavior.

"Ask me again tomorrow." mumbled the daedric contractor, going back under his covers.

Because seriously, fuck this shit.

In his labyrinthine plane of Oblivion, Hermaeus Mora quirked a couple dozen eyebrows.

Well now, wasn't that… interesting?