The deadly battle continued between the raw primal fury of uncontrolled Hellfire and the successfully cast Fiendfyre controlled by the young mage who stood in the middle, almost oblivious to the happenings all around him. The primal rage was obscenely powerful at first, but Harry's stubbornness and his will proved more than a match against it. The two fires fought against each other, the ethereal fiery beasts destroying each other, emanating powerful bursts of light and energy.
After what seemed like an infinite amount of time, the wild fire slowly lost its will and converged into Harry's Fiendfyre, neutralizing each other completely. The entire ground was razed and almost half-liquefied at the surface, and there at the middle, the green eyes of the mage glowed brightly before they shut abruptly as Harry surrendered himself to oblivion.
He opened his eyes. The memories swam fresh on his mind, as the familiarity of the surroundings impressed itself to his consciousness. The same desolate road, the curved way, the rocky precipice, the broken bridge and the river-
"It seems an eternity since we last met, and yet it was only a few months by your mortal world."
Harry whirled back, somewhat surprised to find the shadowy cloaked figure stand behind him. Now that he had met this entity twice, he could see him close, without any awe. On close observation, the entity did not seem as shadowy as the previous time. The dark shadow that pervaded his presence was now distinct as the fluttering of a silvery, black cloak-something very much similar to the one he once had. The entity no longer seemed like a Dementor; rather it was now looking very much like a human being, albeit one whom the fluttering cloak effectively shadowed.
"Who are you?" Harry could not help but ask.
"You know who I am." The disembodied voice replied from beyond the murky layers of the cloak. Harry looked at him skeptically. "I know you are Death, or rather some form of essence of Death. You are wearing a cloak just like the one I had not very long ago, and you look like a human just like me-I cannot help but wonder if there is more to you than what meets the eye."
The entity chuckled and returned, "You are more intelligent than most wizard spawn, Harry Potter. Yes, there is more to me than this shadowy cloak. I believe it is time I come clear with you." He held up his hands, and Harry was surprised to see the pale skin beneath the hood. He lifted up the folds of the cloak, and smirked back at the shocked face of Harry Potter.
Green, powerfully bright, emerald green eyes stared at Harry's own. The eyes, the ears, the nose, the face... even the hair, though it was quite differently combed than Harry's own...
"You are... Me?"
Madam Pomfrey was simply having a bad day. First, the Potter boy had to, just had to stand and duel to the death against Igor Karkaroff. It was a good thing that the brat won, or else Poppy was sure that she would figure out a way to bring him back from the dead and give him a nice thrashing. She even had a few choice words ready for the occasion. The good thing however, was that Karkaroff had been defeated and killed, but unfortunately, (or perhaps most expectedly) the boy had succumbed to unconsciousness and was now lying on the Hospital bed.
The problem was- he was stuck inside some form of magical coma, and none of the spells or potions were working on him. She had initially thought that he had become magically exhausted once again, and two consecutive exhaustions might have taken a toll on him-but she was wrong. Despite having used up quite an amount of magic, his core was still far from exhaustion. It was inexplicable in its own right, but then again, nobody in living memory had a magical index above 700. The only one to do so had been the little boy who rose to become the most feared dark lord of Great Britain. Lord Voldemort.
Something was indeed wrong with the boy- his vitals were proper, his magical core already self-healing since he had been brought here, there were no injuries to his person and he had not been seen to be hit by any dark spell. No remains of dark curses that could be traced on him were there. It only meant one thing.
The boy was stuck inside his own mind—stuck in some kind of dream. She had no idea how to bring him back.
The boy will be the death of me!
The office door knocked, and she strode forward to open it. Knowing the precociousness of teenagers, she had warded the doors personally so that the usual unlocking charms would not work on it. The doors to the Hospital wing would have to be opened the old-fashioned way- by mundane way.
Sebastian Delacour, Albus Dumbledore, Minerva Mcgonagall, Cyrus Greengrass and Alastor Moody stood outside the door. Poppy glanced at the expressions on their faces and understood their predicament. However, she could not understand why someone like Sebastian Delacour- father of another Triwizard Champion would be so interested in her patient.
"Yes?"
"Has he recovered, Poppy?" Dumbledore urged. Pomfrey shook her head and denied. "No change yet. All vitals are working properly, but he is in some kind of magical coma, if I had to wager a guess."
"Do you think he should be transferred to Saint Mungo's or perhaps the ICW Health Unit?" Sebastian urged. The others looked at him oddly. The Lord Delacour had a major standing at the ICW, almost parallel to Dumbledore in authority, though why he was so interested in the young Potter seemed to puzzle everyone else.
"I suppose I should let my daughter know about his condition." Cyrus muttered, before walking away. Poppy looked back at the rest of them and confessed. "I am not sure what Saint Mungo's could do in such a case. His body is completely healthy, and so is his core. He did not yet suffer from exhaustion."
"WHAT?"
Everyone glanced towards Mcgonagall who had suddenly exclaimed out her disbelief. Flustered at the sudden gaze from everyone, she returned, "He did perform some dazzling magic and then controlled the Fiendfyre of all things. I am just surprised that he was not exhausted."
Dumbledore apparently had caught something between the lines and urged, "Poppy, what exactly is Harry's MPI?"
Poppy swallowed. She knew that as school matron, she was liable to answer any direct question posed by the Headmaster. Then again, she had promised the young boy to keep the fact a secret. Faced by a sudden dilemma, she looked back and forth before she spoke out, "it is high. Quite high. Higher than yours, but I cannot tell you the exact value since Harry made me swear that I keep it secret. I hope you will not force me to break my oath."
Dumbledore seemed to ponder over the question before nodding and consenting, causing a sudden smirk on Sebastian's face. If his hunch was correct, then a mage had just returned to the mortal world. The first mage in centuries. The first mage since his great ancestor- Salazar Slytherin.
Almost six hundred years ago, the ancient family of Slytherin had disintegrated into three main lines- one had fused with the Gaunts' bloodline and continued as Gaunt. The other had migrated to France and rose to prominence as the Delacour family. The third line was one of squibs, one that continued with the name Evans. Now finally, the powers of the founding father of the ancient family of Slytherin were rising back into the mortal world, and Sebastian was beyond excited about it.
"You are...Me?"
The entity in front of him smirked at the perplexed visage of Harry Potter. "No, I am not you. You are a remnant of me..."
"Remnant?"
The entity closed his eyes. "I was born a millennium ago, into the family of Peverell—the renowned and accomplished necromancers who had been the progenitors of the Hallows. They were the ones that somehow bestowed the powers of Death into the Hallows-creating what you know as the Deathly Hallows. I was simply the first person to gather the three items together and yet be powerful and willful enough to resist them from claiming my person and my energies."
"You mean; other people have also collected the three Hallows?"
Death looked at him oddly. "Are you daft, boy? Do you think that you are the only person in magical History to collect three artifacts to yourself? Artifacts, which I may add—are extremely famous and known to a lot of people?"
Harry looked at Death blankly. Death was a better name than...thinking that he was looking at himself. What was the word? Yes, remnant; he mused.
"You need to have enough power and strength of will to hold against the essence of the Hallows, and make them subservient to your will. That is the only way to become the Master of the Hallows." Death explained.
"And what happens when you are not?"
"Well they are called the Deathly Hallows for a reason..."
"You mean- they die?"
Death did not answer.
"So who are you?" Harry inquired. "I mean, when you were a descendant of Peverell family, that is."
"My birth name was Serwyl Peverell, grand-child of Ignotus Peverell."
"Serwyl Peverell, I haven't heard of the name, I am afraid."
"Yes it is quite a loss that I did not include my original name in my journals. Else I am sure the new Lord of my family would have recognized me."
Harry blanched. "You are-you are- Salazar Slytherin?"
"At your service..." Ser- Salazar Slytherin returned amusedly.
I am a remnant of Salazar Slytherin?
"You are a remnant of Salazar Slytherin."
"But-how?"
Salazar smiled. "Tut, tut; Lord Slytherin- as amusing as it is to see you fluster, I am but a bit disappointed in you. You managed to successfully cast Fiendfyre, knowing that the only other person in recorded history to have done that was-"
"You." Harry ended.
"Me, and yet it never occurred to you why it was so..."
"I thought it was... I do not know... freakish things have always happened with and around me in the past. I always thought that I summoned Fiendfyre, but it was only later on during my studies in the- in your Chamber that I found that I was casting it, not summoning it. I saw an image of you doing the same, though your face was not visible. I copied your style, and for some reason, it came very easily to me, almost as if-"
"You had performed it many times before."
Harry let out his breath, and answered. "Yes."
"When I became the Master of the Hallows, I could not stay amidst the mortal world anymore, because of the duties of the Master of Death. Once one acquires this position, he loses all connections to his family magic, and has to embrace the mantle and powers of Death. Powers that one could only imagine. Powers that help guard the world from its damnation."
"Will I have to do that too?" harry asked, fearing the answer.
"In due time, Yes." Salazar answered, as he continued, "I gave myself a new name and created a new family. Once my son took the Lordship, I left the vestiges of the mortal world and transcended to this realm forever."
"But what about you and Gryffindor having a quarrel and you leaving the school?"
Salazar sighed. "Godric was a bit headstrong person, despite his nobility. My son Shezar had designed the killing curse and Godric had been furious at him dabbing with something as dangerous as soul magic. One thing led to the other and a quarrel ensured. I was getting tired of it anyway and so, I decided to end my association with the school, and having handed over the Lordship to my son, I transcended to these realm. Everyone thought me gone and dead, and I did nothing to change the fact."
"Your son did indeed create a family that dabbled in extreme dark magic. I read it in your memoirs." Harry expressed.
"Yes, Shezar was... always a bit precocious and interested in such things." Salazar confessed.
"That all is fine, but why exactly am I here?" Harry asked, his mind returning to the present.
"You are here because there are things I need to let you know. The moment you won the duel and breached the contract, the future changed drastically. The future that you knew so well does not exist anymore."
"So... Theo and..."
"You won't be able to see them anymore. That time stream had been obliterated and absorbed into temporal fields. What remains now is the future you create."
"Kill Voldemort." Harry emphasized.
"Yes, but not only. Many more powers endanger the world. Powers much greater and much more terrible than Voldemort. Powers that now know of you and your prowess, now that you have demonstrated so much in public." Salazar ended his statement with a scowl. "For a dark lord and a lord Slytherin, you definitely possess Godric's streak of showmanship. Really? Fiendfyre against Fiendfyre?"
Harry scowled back. "The village was warded against apparation. Too many people were there. I couldn't possibly-"
"But you could have ended Karkaroff quickly. No, you just had to play with him until the last moment. For a dark lord who has already been taken down more than once, you refuse to see the phenomenal powers of hubris."
Harry did not reply. He knew that he could have ended Karkaroff easily and within seconds, yet he had decided to give everyone a show. He had nearly gotten them killed in his desire to grant them a good show.
"You are right." He finally confessed.
Salazar smirked at him and answered. "What is done is done. See that you take care of the dangers threatening the world, and then when you are ready, you will have to take on my mantle. The mantle of the Master of Death."
"What will happen to you?"
"I will finally be at peace with my love in the afterlife. You shall sit on my throne and stand guard, until a new seeker comes to take your place. Farewell, Harry Potter, or should I say...Peverell."
The sudden twitches of his fingers let the others know that he was responding again. He opened his eyes and felt himself staring into the icy blue eyes of his girlfriend. Daphne's eyes were watery as she hugged him tightly, her excitement getting the better of her.
"Daph?"
"Yeah?" She answered, still clinging on to him.
"I can't breathe..."
"Oh."
Daphne quickly stepped back, her face flustered with the variety of emotions flushing through her. Madam Pomfrey came up from the other side and looked down at him. "So you are alive?"
Harry looked at her amusedly. "I missed you too much not to be back, Madam Pomfrey."
"Careful, or else I might make you stay here for a week." She admonished.
Harry gave an expression of downright horror, breaking through the stoic mask of the school matron as a smile leaked through her attempts to be stern. He sat up, and waved his hands. Everything seemed all right.
"How long was I out?"
"Ten hours."
"Oh."
"Yes. Oh. Honestly boy, can you just not stay away from this wing?"
"Oh, I would miss you too much, Madam Pomfrey."
"Should I be jealous that you are trying to flirt with Madam Pomfrey, Potter?" Harry looked up to find Daphne looking sternly at him, a fake angry look plastered on her face. Her hands crossed above her breasts, giving off a look of clear intimidation.
Unsure what to reply, he simply shook his head, causing Daphne to laugh and Pomfrey to smirk. "Come here", Daphne exclaimed; as she drew close to him again, "I will curse you later." Her lips met his as she snogged him senseless.
"Potter, there is someone who has been waiting to talk to you since long." Pomfrey urged from a side.
"Who?"
"That would be me." Sebastian Delacour announced from the doorway, "Hello Mr. Potter, I am Sebastian Delacour."
There are situations in life when you are perplexed beyond belief. Meeting the father of your girlfriend from the previous life was one such situation. Especially more, considering how said man had always been at odds about his daughter's relationship with you. A similar case now materialized in Harry Potter's life as he watched Sebastian Delacour stride towards him, a beaming smile stuck on his face.
What does he want from me now?
Keeping the disgust away from his face, Harry regarded the incoming problem. Sebastian Delacour was one of the most cunning and powerful individuals he had ever countered in his past life. The man had never ceased to be a royal pain in the arse even when Harry had taken up the mantle of Dark Lord Potter. Not that he had no reason altogether. After all, Sebastian always considered him as responsible for Fleur's death in the first place. Interestingly enough, the man was also his biggest opponent during his war against the ICW- the mercenaries he had at his service were absolute ruthless and menacing.
Mercenaries like Daphne 'Raven' Greengrass.
Now, Daphne was his girlfriend, and the same man was walking towards the two of them. Harry found himself drifting between his future-past and his present, the inexplicable relationship between the three people in the room confusing him to oblivion.
"What- what can I do for you, Mister Delacour?" Harry managed to say.
Sebastian allowed a smile to form on his face. It was interesting to see the young and powerful mage so flustered by his mere presence. Though he could not fathom the reason behind the young man's anxiety, it sure made things even more... interesting.
"I wished to talk to you about matters concerning the life-debt my daughter owes you, Mr. Potter, or should I say..." he inched closer to him, a privacy ward manifesting around him as he did, "—Mister Peverell."
Harry's eyes widened, as his knuckles turned white.
"Very well Mister Delacour, I believe we can discuss this in a... more proper venue."
"If you wish."
Harry looked at Daphne who was looking flustered about the entire thing. She had no idea how he might have incurred a life-debt from the Delacours. After all, the Delacours were a prominent and extremely powerful family of Europe, and were feared and respected by all.
"I can leave you to talk if you wish." Daphne began, but Harry insisted on a "stay!" to which she complied. Sebastian looked oddly at him, and urged. "I assume you have a venue in mind."
"Yes. Dobby!"
The elf popped in almost instantly upon being summoned. "Yes, Master Potter?"
"Take us to Potter Manor." He looked at Sebastian who nodded in consent, as the elf popped them away, much to the consternation of the school matron.
The four of them reappeared on the grounds of Potter Manor. The lush green grass of the grounds brought a kind of calmness to Harry, who looked at the other two. "Welcome to Potter Manor." Turning to Dobby, "I assume the study is well maintained?"
"Yes, Master Potter."
"Please take us there."
The elf did as told and popped them in the study, vanishing away on spot. Harry ushered Daphne and Sebastian towards the couch. "I am sorry for the break in travel. The wards prevent apparation into the manor directly from outside. Hence, the grounds."
Sebastian shook his head and gestured that it was no problem. Harry sat with Daphne on the couch opposite him as he looked at the duo sharply.
"Now, what exactly was it that you wanted to talk to me. Mister Delacour?"
Sebastian settled himself comfortably on the couch, his sight spanning the entire room. "As I mentioned, it is about the life-debt. You saved my daughter's life, and I want to repay the debt to you."
Harry considered the offer. To deny that he had anything to do with it was not an option. His initial reaction had been a big give-away. Saying it was not a big deal would make it look like charity and that could be taken as an insult.
"Mr. Delacour; I admit that I did save your daughter's life back then, but in all honesty, I do not really require any kind of gratitude in return. The fact that you have kept my identity a secret is more than enough for me. Should you continue to do so, I will consider the debt repaid."
Sebastian looked at him as if Harry had spectacularly failed in trying to answer an easy question.
"As unexpected as your reaction is, there is in fact, something else I wanted to talk to you about, Lord Potter- or should I say, Lord Slytherin?"
Harry blanched. The cunning old man was back. Keeping his rage and shock I check, he looked at the man sitting comfortably across him. "How exactly did you know that?"
"It seems you are quite ignorant of your heritage, Mr. Potter." Sebastian stood up from the couch and strode across the room, pacing slowly as he explained. "The Ancient family of Slytherin broke up around six hundred years ago into three main lines- one that married into the Gaunts and continued in the family; and another squibbed down and took the name of Evans. I assume that was exactly what your mother's maiden name was?"
Harry did not answer, but the surprise etched on his face gave him away.
With an amused expression, Sebastian continued. "The third line migrated to France and settled in as a new family, one which rose to prominence and power." He looked at Harry sharply. "Mine."
Harry drew a breath. He could almost see where this was going. Almost.
"And despite the fact that I am the Lord of Delacour, the Slytherin Lordship has always evaded me. My ancestors had pledged that one day; our descendants shall take up the mantle of Lord Slytherin once again. But imagine my surprise when a descendant from the squib line brought forth the powers of a mage."
Harry looked sharply at him in shock, the new discoveries and information that kept coming was throwing him off-guard. Sebastian continued, "Imagine my surprise, when a young fourteen-year-old manages to cast Fiendfyre successfully, when the only one to do so in magical history was Salazar slytherin himself-or should I say, Serwyl Peverell."
He knows too much information.
"Oh I know, and I know a lot more than this, Lord Potter. Believe me, I was not the only one in the crowd who noticed the successful casting of both the infamous mage shield and Fiendfyre. The Slytherin achieves in the Chamber of Secrets are not the only memoirs of Salazar Slytherin, but I suppose you did not know that."
"What do you want?" For some reason, Harry felt extremely wary about the man. Master of Death he might be, but the man held tremendous political power. If he let lose that Harry was Peverell, then he would be hunted forever.
"As I said previously, my ancestors pledged to have a descendant of my family to rise to the mantle of Slytherin Lords once again. I am simply trying to make them proud. Then again, Salazar was a Peverell, and I know that with his mage abilities, he was the one to have access to the Peverell Grimoire. I want that grimoire as part of my family." His eyes had a hungry look in them. "As you very well see Mister Potter, you and I have a lot of unfinished business."
Harry stood up, and faced the man who was all but subtly threatening him in his own Manor.
"All right Mister Sebastian Delacour, you have my complete attention."
### The next chapter is here. Although I would have liked to personally answer some of the questions on 'fainting' posed in the reviews, I believe that the chapter answered them already. Hope you enjoyed it. Reviews, please.