Marvolo waited as the wards alerted him to Steele's depature from his manor before turning to head back to his study. There were now four imperiused muggles in what was originally a wine cellar off the servant's kitchen in the lower level of the house - though now it had become a make-shift dungeon holding cell. Milly had been instructed to make sure they remained hydrated over the next few days as the preparations for the raid on the prison progressed. Crouch and Chaimberlain would likely be bringing at least one more muggle, each, later that evening, and he'd probably need to guide them as well, but hopefully after that, they would all be familiar enough with the process to drop off the remaining muggles without his oversight.

For now he intended to turn his focus on Harry's book.

He had managed to skim a few early pages earlier that morning before Harry woke up, but it was set aside at that point in favor of the 'shower sex' that Harry insisted was owed to him. They'd eaten a late breakfast after that, followed by a couple tasks and then a trip back to Malfoy Manor to deal with Draco Malfoy's secrecy contract.

As far as Marvolo was concerned, the contract that Harry's solicitors had drawn up was only marginally acceptable, but still far too lenient for his tastes. Harry was insistent, however, and Marvolo didn't care quite enough to fight him on the issue. The Malfoy's had always been very faithful, and he supposed he could do this one thing for Lucius, considering the man had been the source of this mysterious new book.

There was no guarantee yet that the book would actually be worth anything, but Marvolo found himself hoping it would. And hope was not something that he ever really let himself indulge in. But this book was the first hint at a clue that Harry had found in centuries, apparently, and the first substantial clue that Marvolo himself had seen at all.

He had promised Harry (mostly at his own insistence) that he would transcribe a translation of the book for him, but he intended to just read the damn thing first, as he really didn't have the patience to do it the other way around. So upon reaching his office, he summoned the book from his desk and took it over to the chase lounge in front of the hearth to sit back and start reading.

He started out relaxed back along the lounge, but found himself sitting straighter after a short while had passed. Then he was leaning forward, focused intently upon the pages as he progressed further and further through the handwritten manuscript.

Marvolo felt his heart pounding in his chest as he reached the last few pages, and then finally, he reached the end — a rather abrupt end, as well, but nothing detrimental. He had what he needed.

And it all fit with Harry's situation. Well - most of it. There were certainly a few rather significant questions left unanswered, but… But he had a starting point. A testable theory and an idea of what needed to be done next, if he were to confirm that the circumstances surrounding the repeating life of Avitus of Syracuse, was well and truly the same as Harry.

He stood and made his way over to his desk where he set the book aside before pausing and trying to decide on what action to take next. One part of him knew he should just translate the damn thing for Harry to read, since that's what he'd promised to do.

Who was he kidding, he didn't have the patience for that. He'd do it later. No, he felt a deep seeded need to act. He wanted to move on this new information, and he wanted to do it now. But that would, perhaps, be rather reckless.

But it was worth the risk. Risks be damned, honestly. If there was anything important enough to warrant a few risks, it was this. And it wasn't as if he wouldn't be taking precautions. He'd probably fall back on a glamour…

Decided, he sat down in his chair, pulled out a blank piece of parchment and began to write a letter. Several minutes later, he was casting a drying spell over the ink, rolling it up and tying it with a string before adding a daub of wax. He then stood and made his way down the hall towards the manor's old servants hall, out the back and to the small owlery that had been erected there. A moment later he had the scroll attached to one of the owls legs and sent off to deliver it's small, but important, load.

It was considerably short notice, but he hoped that the recipient of his letter would be intrigued and desperate enough that he'd show up…

But first, off to Malfoy Manor to see if he could remove something from Harry's possession without his notice…

— —

Albus Dumbledore appeared with a crack! a short distance from the small hamlet of Talsarnau, in the Gwynedd county of Wales. It was getting late, but the sun hadn't set yet and he could see for a great distance in all directions from his current location. Off to his left he could see the large stone spires of Bryn Cadar Faner, a large stone circle made up of 18 thin jagged pillars of rock, all jutting out at a tilted angle, away from the center, making it a rather imposing sight from afar.

He began a brisk-paced walk towards the ancient monument, keeping his wand in hand and his senses on full alert, constantly checking for any signs that this was a trap. His pace slowed as he drew near his destination and spotted the dark cloaked figure of the one who had requested he come to this place.

The large circle of stones was nearly thirty feet in diameter, and the rock spires themselves raised as high as seven feet off the ground. The figure stood in the center of the large circle and appeared to be casting a series of spells in a circle around his location, ignoring Albus' approach.

"I do hope that whatever it is that you're doing isn't intended as a trap for myself," Albus said cheerfully as he reached the edge of the circle and paused beside one of the large stones.

"I would like to think that if I really did want to trap you that I would come up with a more clever way of drawing you out than an invite via post," the man drawled as he seemed to finish up whatever spell he was casting. "I'm honestly rather surprised you actually came alone." The cloaked figure turned around revealing the familiar pale, serpentine features of Lord Voldemort, only vaguely shadowed by the cloak's hood.

The man's eyes were red and sharp, his nose flattened against his face and slitted, and his mouth smooth and lipless with only the faintest hint of serpent scales along their edges. He reached up and pulled the hood back, revealing his bald head and flattened ears. He was just as hideous and disfigured as Albus remembered him, and a part of him could only mourn the handsome young man that this creature had once looked like.

"Your letter was really quite unexpected, and your request for my assistance seemed rather unprecedented. I found myself far too curious to pass this opportunity up, and didn't feel I had time to try and organize any company to accompany me."

"No doubt you also relished the opportunity to finally see with your own eyes that I am, in fact, once again alive and whole," Lord Voldemort remarked dryly.

"It has been rather surprising just how long you've managed to remain unseen. I must admit that my own curiosity as to what it is that you might have been up to, is really quite tremendous. After all, it has been several years since you came back, has it not, Tom?"

Lord Voldemort gave Albus a rather disgusted sneer. "I hate that name, and you damn well know it. I can't help but feel that your rather pointed use of it, despite the fact that you know how much I dislike it, is nothing more than an attempt to rile me up."

"Oh, my, no. Please do forgive an old man, but I will always remember you as the young man by the name of Tom whom I taught for seven years."

Voldemort snorted and rolled his slitted eyes skyward, looking entirely unimpressed.

"You said in your letter that you required my assistance?" Albus said a moment later after a silence had hung in the air long enough for the atmosphere to become uneasy.

"To be completely honestly, I don't need your assistance at all," Voldemort drawled, taking several steps forward before coming to a stop. Albus watched him cautiously, but made no movement in response. "What I need, is your wand."

Albus tightened his grip on the wand in his hand, pinning Lord Voldemort with a far more piercing stare now, as wariness grew inside him.

"My wand?" Albus echoed with a false air of confusion. "You clearly have one of your own. What possible use could my wand serve you that your own could not?"

Voldemort let out a tired sigh and folded his arms over his chest. "I'm not here to try and steal the bloody thing from you, nor is the purpose of this little chat to challenge you to a duel over it's ownership. I simply need your wand to be here. It must be present. Nothing more."

With that, he turned in the direction of the nearest stone to his left, aimed his wand and shot out a silent spell. The stone glowed and a series of runes became visible that weren't there before. The light spread to the stones on each side of the first, and so on until all 18 rocks featured glowing runes and a buzzing surge of magic filled the air around them.

Albus watched as all of this happened in a matter of seconds. His eyes were then drawn to Voldemort himself as he reached into his robes and pulled out a silvery fabric that obscured parts of the man's body and arm as he held it aloft and into the air. Albus's eyes widened with recognition, spotting it for the invisibility cloak he had borrowed from James Potter all those years ago and kept in his possession until just a few years prior when he had returned it to Harry Potter.

Albus then took note for the first time that Voldemort appeared to be wearing a ring on the hand holding the cloak in the air, and both of these objects appeared to be vibrating with power.

And then Voldemort was calling out an incantation that Albus did not recognize and Albus felt the wand in his hand grow warm and begin to vibrate in his grasp.

"What have you done!?" he demanded. But his voice was lost over the rather sudden rushing of wind that seemed to have filled the air in the last few seconds.

A bright light shot up in the center of the stone circle, nearly blinding Albus as he quickly shielded his eyes and looked away. The wind was tossing both men's robes around wildly, and Albus had to reach one arm out to restrain his beard to keep it from whipping about and obscuring his vision even further. The wind was quickly becoming a deafening roar, blocking out all other sound and overwhelming Albus's senses.

And then, just like that, it all stopped.

The wind was gone, the air was still, and the surroundings were deathly silent. The blinding light was gone as well and in its place stood a tall, imposing figure, cloaked all in black and carrying a large scythe. It only took a moment before Dumbledore saw that the figure appeared to be nothing more than bones, with nothing but a skull where a face would be expected, and a boney hand extending from the long robe sleeve and holding the scythe.

WHAT BUSINESS DO YOU HAVE WITH ME, WIZARD? A powerful, monotone voice that sounded like two concrete blocks being ground together, seemed to echo through his mind more so than through the actual air.

"My business," Lord Voldemort began, turning a disdainful gaze upon Albus, "is between you and I, only." And with that, he jerked his wand in Albus' direction, catching him by surprise with the sudden and unexpected attack. Albus made to dodge but was still caught in an area spell that sent him flying backwards several feet, causing him to land on his bum, just beyond the stone circle. A light flashed as Voldemort cast another spell and a powerful glowing ward activated in a dome just beyond the stone circle itself and extending into the air, cutting Albus off from the two dark figures within.

Albus quickly jumped to his feet, testing the ward and quickly finding that it had a rather nasty bite to it. All sound from within was blocked, even the none-voice from the skeletal figure that he didn't dare name, even in his mind, as it rebelled against the very thought.

Because if he were to name the figure currently in the stone circle conversing with Lord Voldemort, Albus would have to admit that what Harry Potter had told him might actually be true.

But could it really be true? Could it honestly be possible?

Could Harry Potter have been raised by Death?

— —

AN: I couldn't help it. I can't think of Death talking without Him TALKING LIKE THIS. Mind you, I've only read a few Discworld stories, but it's more than enough to get it engrained in my brain.

— —

FOR WHAT REASON HAVE YOU SUMMONED ME, WIZARD? Death asked again, once Marvolo had finished casting Dumbledore out from the stone circle and raised the ward he'd prepared ahead of time.

Marvolo turned his attention back on the imposing figure now standing before him and had to force himself to wrap his brain around the reality of what he was staring at. Right up until the moment that the spell had actually worked, a decent portion of him had still seriously questioned the sanity of expecting a physical personification of Death to appear before him. But low and behold… it had.

But how long it would last, he didn't know, so he forced himself to push past his internal shock and proceed with his reason for doing this.

"I have questions for you," Marvolo said to the skeletal figure, cloaked all in black and carrying a very large and imposing scythe.

YOU ARE THE MASTER OF ONE OF MY HALLOWS AND DIRECT DESCENDANT TO THE ONE WHO FIRST EARNED IT FROM ME, SO I WILL AGREE TO ANSWER YOUR QUESTIONS. BUT I OWE YOU NOTHING ELSE, MORTAL, DEATH STATED. IF YOU ARE HERE TO DEMAND A BOON, YOU ARE OUT OF LUCK. YOU MUST MASTER ALL THREE TO GAIN THAT RIGHT.

"I wish only for answers," Marvolo stated clearly.

THEN PROCEED.

"Did you once make a deal with Harry Potter?"

YES.

"When?"

THE DEAL WAS STRUCK AT THE END OF HIS FIRST LIFE. HE HAD MASTERED ALL THREE HALLOWS IN THIS SET AND SO EARNED A BOON OF HIS CHOOSING.

"He doesn't recall ever making a deal with you," Marvolo said pointedly, half expecting this 'deal' to have been something Harry didn't even realize he'd done.

HE WOULDN'T REMEMBER IT. HE COULDN'T REMEMBER IT.

"Why not?" Marvolo asked, excitedly.

HE CANNOT REMEMBER HIS FIRST LIFE. ONLY EVERY LIFE SINCE. IT IS THE NATURE OF THE LAWS THAT HAD TO BE BENT TO ARRANGE THE REBIRTH CYCLE HE ASKED FOR.

Marvolo's hairless brow raised upwards and his eyes widened with surprise. This, he had not expected.

"So Harry isn't on his twelfth life, he's on his thirteenth?" Marvolo clarified, curiously.

THAT IS CORRECT. Death's voice boomed.

"What was the deal? You said that he requested his repeating cycle?"

HE NEEDED TO BE MORE POWERFUL. HIS MAGIC AT THE TIME OF HIS FIRST DEATH WAS NOT GREAT ENOUGH FOR THE TASK HE WISHED TO COMPLETE. UPON HIS DEATH, I APPEARED BEFORE HIM AND OFFERED HIM THE OPPORTUNITY TO REQUEST A BOON OF HIS OWN CHOOSING. HE HAD BEEN IN THE PROCESS OF AN UNDERTAKING AT THE TIME OF HIS DEATH. I OFFERED HIM THE OPTION OF GOING BACK WHERE HE LEFT OFF, BUT HE DECIDED HE WOULD ONLY PERISH AGAIN IF THAT WERE THE PATH HE CHOSE. HE WISHED TO KNOW HOW HE COULD BECOME MORE POWERFUL FIRST, AND THEN RETURN. I PROPOSED THAT HE COULD LIVE HIS LIFE OVER AND OVER UNTIL HIS MAGICAL CORE HAD GROWN SIGNIFICANT ENOUGH TO FULFILL HIS TASK, AND HE AGREED.

"So becoming more powerful was the point?" Marvolo remarked with startled wonder. "But what was the task that he needed to become more powerful in order to solve?"

IT HAS NOT YET COME TO PASS.

Marvolo had to stop himself from sneering or rolling his eyes. It hardly mattered if it had happened yet, he just wanted to know what it was. But he did press on with the most obvious question next, "When will it happen, then?"

NOT FOR ANOTHER THREE HUNDRED YEARS, GIVE OR TAKE A DECADE OR TWO.

Marvolo's lips parted with surprise. "Three hundred years? I don't understand how something like what you describe would have initially come to pass at all. How could Harry have lived more than three hundred years in his first life?"

HARRY POTTER LIVED A VERY LONG TIME IN HIS FIRST CYCLE - HIS MORTALITY WAS PROTECTED AUTOMATICALLY FROM MOST FORMS OF DEATH AS A RESULT OF HIS MASTERY OF MY HALLOWS. HE EXPECTED THAT BY THE TIME HE HAD LIVED A THIRD OR FOURTH TIME THROUGH AND REACHED THE EVENT, HE WOULD HAVE GAINED ENOUGH POWER TO PREVENT IT FROM HAPPENING. HOWEVER IT WOULD APPEAR HE HAD FAILED TO ACCOUNT FOR THE POSSIBILITY THAT HE MIGHT DISCARD MY HALLOWS IN HIS SECOND LIFE, RATHER THAN KEEP THEM LIKE HE DID IN HIS FIRST. THIS RESULTED IN A MARKEDLY SHORTER LIFE SPAN THAN WAS NECESSARY TO REACH THE EVENT.

"What is this event that he wanted to change?" Marvolo asked, feeling a surge of impatient excitement at finally having the answers to this puzzle laid out.

THE APOCALYPSE.

Marvolo came up short, finding himself unable to respond to that statement for several moments.

"The Apocalypse?" he echoed almost incredulously. "Could you… could you elaborate on that?"

RAGNAROK. NAHUI OLLIN. THE COMING OF GOCHIHR. JUDGEMENT DAY. WHATEVER YOU HUMANS FEEL LIKE CALLING IT THIS WEEK. THE END OF HUMAN LIFE ON THIS PLANET.

"I see," Marvolo said in a somewhat breathy tone. "And Harry thought he could… prevent this from happening?"

IT WOULD APPEAR SO. Death boomed in a voice that was both powerful and dry sounding at the same time.

"Does this mean that until Harry does save the world from the apocalypse, he will continue to repeat his life, over and over again?"

HE CAN END THE CYCLE WHENEVER HE DESIRES IT.

"Oh? How?" Marvolo asked, suddenly feeling wary.

ALL HE MUST DO IS SUMMON ME AND ASK, AND THE CYCLE SHALL END.

Marvolo nodded his head slowly, taking this in. It was ridiculously simple. All these lives and all of the various things Harry had apparently done and tried, and it had really been this simple, all along. Of course, Harry apparently had no idea how to summon Death prior to this, so Marvolo supposed with that in mind, it wasn't quite so simple.

"How was Harry supposed to know any of this, if he couldn't remember his first life?"

THAT WAS NOT MY CONCERN. I WARNED HIM OF THE LIMITATION. IT WAS HIS CHOICE TO DISREGARD THAT POTENTIAL PROBLEM.

Marvolo shook his head and rolled his eyes skyward for a moment, cursing the man and his Gryffindor tendencies.

But then his mind slipped back to what he'd just learned. If he so chose to, Harry could end his cycle of rebirth, right now. Or, rather, he could as soon as he summoned Death himself. Which, admittedly might be tricky, as Marvolo doubted it would be quite so easy to con Dumbledore into showing up here with his wand in hand, another time.

But once Harry had guaranteed the cycle was over… what would he do?

What if Harry decided to just… end it?

Marvolo's chest constricted painfully at the prospect, but he quickly shoved the thoughts away, content to deal with them later.

But what about this whole apocalypse thing? Marvolo could see Harry's often denied, but still very real 'saving people thing' rearing its head here. And if so, this would actually benefit Marvolo the most. If Harry did decide to stick around and deal with this apparent inevitable end-of-world, that would mean Harry would be required to live another three hundred years, just to get there…

That thought actually lit a fire in Marvolo's chest and he felt a small glow of potential triumph alight in him.

IS THAT ALL? Death's voice broke through his wall of thought, pulling him back to reality. I HAVEN'T GOT ALL DAY, YOU KNOW.

"Is there a simpler way to summon you without having to gather the three hallows together?" Marvolo asked, knowing that Harry would likely be extremely irritated with him for blowing this one opportunity to summon Death, without bringing him along. But Marvolo had needed to know what the answers were before he went and forwarded it along to Harry. Just in case the answers were… well, he didn't know what, but he'd felt the need to be cautious anyway.

Harry Potter can use your Ring to call to me and I will hear it, and come.

Well, that solved that problem.

Marvolo nodded his head thoughtfully for a moment before turning his full attention back on the large talking skeleton in black robes standing before him. "Then I am satisfied. You may go."

Something of a snort seemed to emanate from the grim figure before he spoke again. VERY WELL. I TAKE MY LEAVE.

Death lifted up his giant Scythe and swung it around, enveloping himself in light for a bright, blinding moment, before vanishing with a thunderous boom, leaving nothing but silent night behind him.

Marvolo stood, going over all that he'd learned for several minutes longer before a magical vibration in the air caught his attention. He turned to look over his shoulder to find a scowling Albus Dumbledore standing there with his wand pressed up against the magical ward, clearly having been attempting to pull it down for some time now.

A small amused smile curled his glamoured form's lipless mouth. If nothing else, this event would have interesting repercussions on Dumbledore's thoughts regarding Harry. Though what those thoughts might be, Marvolo could hardly fathom.

Thinking about it, it really was rather crazy that Harry's concocted story about a personification of Death coming to him in the past, was considerably less fanciful than initially thought. Also considering the name Harry had given his familiar brought another layer of curiosity to the puzzle. Naming his snake after the beast that would devour the world and bring it to it's final end had seemed amusing before, but now it was quite curious. It was almost as if some part hidden deep within him had been trying to drop Harry's hints through his own subconscious. Marvolo shook his head, deciding to consider these thoughts in more depth at a later time, and to instead focus on leaving.

He took a moment to make sure that the cloak was secured, and the ring was still on his finger. He gave Dumbledore one final triumphant smirk before turning on the spot and vanishing with a soft crack.

The ward fell as soon as he was gone, but that hardly did Albus Dumbledore any good at this point, as he was long gone. And so was Death.