A/N: Omg this took way longer than it should have. I'm so sorry! My holidays turned out to be almost as stressful as the exam session.

You all deserve an award for being this patient with me and still tagging along. Special thanks to everyone who reviewed!

Enjoy :)

.

.

Chapter 37

What.

"Fascinating isn't it?" the man asked and stabbed his knife right back into Grindelwald's feebly twitching body – which really should not be twitching anymore. "I tried a new experiment today and actually removed the organs and scattered them."

What.

"I noticed," Harry responded drily, his brain still blank.

"Ah yes, my sincerest apologies lord Voldemort, I wasn't trying to be crude. In the name of science you understand."

In the name of-… That was not fucking science!

The man looked at Grindelwald in contemplation. "The only thing left to try is to burn him. But that seems like a waste of a good sample, no?"

"I had questions for him," Harry said hollowly, pointedly avoiding to look anywhere below Grindelwald's face.

The man nodded gracefully. "So did I. Why do you think he's in that condition in the first place?"

What.

None of this made any sense. Grindelwald was supposed to be the leader of the renovation guild. The man behind the chaos. The mastermind of the bad guys.

So why was Harry standing in his intestines?

He asked the only question he could think of that wasn't linked to bringing butchered men back from hell. "Who are you?"

The man's gaze left Grindelwald's tortured form and settled on him with the same amount of contemplation. "An interested party, someone who has only heard positive things about you, lord Voldemort."

What.

There was literally nothing positive to be heard about lord Voldemort.

"I believe we have much in common," the man continued.

"I try to wash now and then," Harry responded blankly and gave the bloodied clothes of the man a pointed look.

The man laughed. "Yes, that humour as well. But where are my manners? Forgive me, I waited a long time to meet you, I'm a bit giddy."

He didn't look giddy. He looked perfectly unconcerned about anything around him. He looked like someone who knew exactly what was going to happen. He looked in control.

Oh gods he looked like Riddle when he was playing with other people. Harry shivered involuntarily.

The man held out his blood-drenched hand for Harry to shake. "Salazar Slytherin."

Harry continued to stare blankly at the outstretched hand, making no inclination to shake the disgusting thing. "Pleasure."

Salazar didn't seem to take any offense in that. "Now that all the pleasantries have been exchanged, should we talk about the interesting things?"

Grindelwald groaned behind them, his voice growing stronger despite the knife that was still embedded where his heart should have been.

"Please do," Harry replied curtly, straining to keep his voice calm and failing miserably.

His head felt as if his brain was running around in circles while screaming in terror. The only reason why his legs didn't follow was because they wouldn't have supported his weight at the moment.

"Well this is already going much better than my previous attempts. The last idiot I talked to fainted on the spot."

Unconsciousness looked like a very wise and appealing choice to Harry at the moment.

Was he seriously going to pretend this was normal?!

He exhaled audibly, something between a sigh and a snort. "I can't imagine why."

Salazar gave the knife an extra twist before pulling it out wistfully. "I could do this all day."

That certainly cleared up the question regarding the man's sanity.

"Where is my fri-…my follower?"

Salazar waved his concerns away. "Oh don't worry, he's in good hands. With such things it just seems prudent to reduce the number of people that see it."

"And What," Harry hissed. "The. Fuck. Are we seeing?"

Salazar casually flicked the blood off his knife. "Like I said. Immortality."

Harry blinked, waiting in vain for Salazar to elaborate. Then he broke into a sneer that would have made Snape proud. "Yes of course, obviously. The weather is nice today no?"

Salazar smirked. "Exceptionally so."

Harry forced himself to take a deep breath to calm down. That guy was pissing him off with the same irritating deliberation he came to expect from Riddle.

He clenched his teeth to hide his frustration. "What do you want from me?"

Salazar sat back down on his chair, obviously enjoying the fact that Harry was forced to just stand there. "Nothing much. I believe our interests align. So tell me lord Voldemort, how far would you go for immortality?"

Harry wanted nothing to do with it except perhaps burn all evidence to ashes. His trepidation was strong enough to override his curiosity. Voldemort however… Hell, the lord's name practically proclaimed his interest.

"Consider me intrigued," he answered reluctantly.

"Oh yes, I remember being intrigued when I first found out. You might be delighted to hear that the effects are indeed reproducible. But there begins our problem," Salazar sighed dramatically.

He looked at Grindelwald, who still seemed in pain, but whose wounds had closed up considerably.

"See, our interesting friend here has told me all about his grand plans and adventures. But at the very centre of it all, the core of his intriguing condition, there is nothing much at all. Nothing but a single name."

Grindelwald had recovered enough to simply hang limp in his chair, breathing heavily. When his eyes opened again they managed to focus on Harry.

And Harry realized with horror that he had spectacularly fucked up way before he even arrived here.

During everything that had happened and during all their planning, not once had they thought about whether Grindelwald knew him.

Genius indeed. Harry felt like laughing hysterically. This was just too good. Even Riddle had been fixated on the fact that Grindelwald couldn't possibly know how Voldemort looked. True, but what about how Harry looked?

Because there in the tortured man's eyes was unmistakably the one thing that would have doomed him even if their meeting had gone as planned.

Recognition.

"Harry Potter," Gellert whispered.

Harry froze, fully expecting Salazar to plunge his knife directly into his own heart without any further questions.

The man however seemed completely unperturbed and only nodded. "Yes, Harry Potter. Does that name mean anything to you, lord Voldemort?"

It took Harry several shocked seconds to realize that Salazar had remained ignorant of their equally stunned stare and assumed Grindelwald had merely continued the conversation.

Wait.

What.

"What does he have to do with anything?" Harry asked weakly.

"Oh everything," Salazar remarked offhandedly. "He's the only one that knows the formula."

.

.

They had known they were coming.

This, of course, was to be expected, as this was nothing but a trap.

It was however surprising that the Baron didn't even pretend to be clueless. Tom had thought he would have to make a formal challenge at least. But chaos had erupted from the moment they had stepped foot into the Baron's territory.

Apparently the guild was convinced enough that lord Voldemort and the annoying last hope of the resistance would die here. They didn't bother with pretence, they just wanted them dead and done with.

He had been prepared for the setup of course, but the blatant attack still irked him. A challenge would have been preferable. As it was, they were treated as attackers from the start and the scenario would likely end in a siege.

He had the tools to overwhelm the Baron in a fight, however unbalanced their numbers. He did not have the manpower to draw him out of his fortress if the lord chose to wait him out, should the small group unexpectedly pose a problem.

And a problem they would be.

So far only poorly equipped and even poorer trained villagers had attacked them. As far as Tom had understood it these people didn't actually belong to the Baron's group. Nonetheless they were under orders to kill them and they were exceptionally annoying.

Despite the constant onslaught of enemies during their march towards the Baron's fortress, they hadn't needed to take out Harry's swords. Tom wanted to keep them a secret for as long as possible, especially now that a challenge wasn't an option.

He calculated the amount of days until they could count on lady Ravenclaw's assistance. She had mentioned being close to the Baron's territory and she might have made it back by now, but it would still take her days to get ready and come here.

He hadn't wanted to count on her support, but without a challenge the element of surprise was taken from them and more men might provide him with the opportunity he needed.

They had to take cover as some of the villagers attacked them from the rooftops. Their aim was terrible though, and…were they throwing stones? Even for their standard that seemed a new low.

He left his cover and marched on, unfazed by the small missiles. What were they trying to achieve? Give him a black eye?

"Somebody kill those idiots," he ordered exasperated.

Bellatrix was already on her way up the rooftops, but got distracted by a screaming woman waving about with a long pipe.

The villagers were either entirely incompetent, or… Tom glanced up again at the people on the roof and their abysmal aim with the small stones.

Or, they weren't trying.

He looked back at Bellatrix, who would have had no problem with killing the woman, except now there was a younger man between them, completely unarmed except his fluttering arms. This was enough to give even Bella's bloodlust a pause and Tom caught her questioning look.

He strode over, while the man argued with Bellatrix.

"Don't kill her! No one wants to be here, you don't have to kill them! Just shove them away, beat them up a little bit or something-…"

"We wouldn't kill them," Tom interrupted, "If they weren't so insistent to throw themselves at us in their idiocy."

The young man turned to him with equal measures of imploration and indignation. "They don't have a choice!"

"We haven't done anything yet. We were attacked out of nowhere."

"Everyone knew you'd come and challenge the Baron, so it's hardly surprising he decided to stop you before it came to that."

Tom quirked an eyebrow at that. It was odd that everyone would be informed. "Then it's hardly surprising we defended ourselves and killed the attackers."

"You monster! They didn't want to attack you!"

It was the contempt in his eyes that triggered Tom's memory. The familiar features suddenly clicked into place and he noticed that the dirty hair was not actually brown, but fiery red.

Good gods, how many of them were there?

He narrowed his eyes while he tried to remember. The boy had Harry's age. Ron Weasley was it? Alive and well it seemed. Was anyone of that family actually dead?

He played with the idea to call him his name, just to see his shocked reaction. He also played with the idea to simply kill the fool.

But Harry wouldn't like that… Tom sighed.

"I will kill anyone that stands in my way. That includes yourself. So stop wasting my time and tell them to stop fighting if they don't want to die."

The unarmed idiot blanched at his cool tone. "I-I can't die here. I-… there's something I have to do."

"Fascinating," Tom sneered and pushed roughly past the younger man.

While it was interesting that the villagers apparently weren't actually trying to kill them and might have even been forced to fight, he certainly didn't plan to waste any more time talking to the idiots.

"W-wait!"

Tom let out an exasperated breath as he turned around once more. If it wasn't for his last name, he would have killed the boy on the spot.

"How many are there of you? I mean…Do you have a chance?"

"I didn't come here for chances. I came here to win," Tom proclaimed confidently.

The boy chewed nervously on his lips. "Do you mean that?"

"I always mean what I say."

Sometimes people were just too stupid to understand all the meanings behind what he said.

"They would help you, you know. If you asked them too, if they believed you could win."

Tom pressed his lips together in disdain. "They aren't capable enough to fight and have no weapons. They would be nothing but a hindrance. If they want to help then they should stop wasting my time."

"Then let me help you."

Tom gave him a disgusted look, but he seemed unfazed and pushed on.

"The Baron's headquarters are known to be impregnable. I'm the only one that has managed to sneak in and out. I know the layout, I can get you in. You'll have a hard time fighting him if he doesn't come out."

He had taken the boy as another one of the useless villagers, but his notion started to intrigue Tom. "And why would you do that?"

The boy gulped and clenched his fists in helpless rage. "He killed…someone very close to me."

And once again all the problems could be boiled down to human emotions. How…quaint. And useful.

If they could sneak into the rumoured impenetrable fortress, he would not have to wait for reinforcements. This could be quick and uncomplicated. An attack from within, extra confusion guaranteed.

Still. To sneak into the headquarters with only a handful of men. Surrounded by enemies and enclosed in a building with nowhere to run.

It would be mad.

"Lead the way."

.

.

"I know you have him."

It sounded neither accusatory nor threatening, it was just a simple irrefutable fact.

"I didn't deny it," Harry retaliated.

Salazar smiled knowingly. "You wanted to."

"You think…Harry Potter…knows a formula for eternal life?" Harry didn't need to pretend to sound incredulous.

Pictures of a wall painted in red writings flashed across his eyes. Snape's disdain at Harry's vandalism. The chemical bindings and properties that were completely wrong according to all current theories.

"I think my methods were sufficient to get him to speak the truth." Salazar nodded to Grindelwald.

"And why would he be the one - the only one - to know this magic formula?"

Salazar frowned lightly at his mocking tone. "You don't believe in immortality? Even after seeing the evidence?"

"I don't believe Harry Potter knows what you think he does."

Because I don't.

"Because he has never talked to you about it?" Salazar prodded.

Because I am him damnit.

Harry restlessly crossed his arms in front of him. "His organs don't grow back when removed."

"Are you sure?"

Well… If he put it that way…

"You see, according to our friend here, Harry Potter was the first promising experiment. Created on the day the research material with the formula disappeared."

"Uuhhm…" was Harry's intelligent reply. By now, he felt like puking his guts out.

Salazar once again didn't seem to mind his lack of input. "There is someone who knows everything, the creator if you wish to call him such. Nicholas Flamel. And I would very much like to talk to him, but alas he is dead. As is all evidence of his research."

"The creator of eternal life is dead?" Harry asked sceptically.

"Apparently he never used it on himself. In fact if we believe Gellert, then he and Harry Potter are the only ones."

Marvellous.

Salazr leaned slightly forward in his chair, curious. "Tell me about the boy."

Harry tensed up further, if that was even possible. "And why would I do that?"

"Because you have many questions only I know the answers to."

"Questions you forced upon me in the first place," he grumbled. He had had a million before today, now he had a few thousand more.

"Very well. I tell you what I know and you tell me if it makes any sense when compared to your experience. Deal?"

Harry found himself nodding before he could stop himself. His burning need for answers had gotten the better of him. He knew this would just pull him further into his fragile web of lies, but he doubted he would just be allowed to leave anyways.

Grindelwald followed their exchange silently with his eyes.

"I assume you know by now that the chaos was orchestrated by the renovation guild?"

Harry slightly inclined his head in response. How Salazar knew any of these things about him and Voldemort was beyond him.

"In the end, the guild attracted many different people, with different ambitions and different consciences. Some wanted power, some dreamed about creating a superior race, some genuinely strived for peace - under their rule of course. Fact is, very few people still knew what the original purpose was of the guild and who was at the core of it."

"Albus Dumbledore," Harry supplied, guessing Salazar already knew about Voldemort's encounter with him. What really interested him was whether he knew about their shared past as well.

"Co-founder, together with Grindelwald. You've met under interesting circumstances I heard. Tell me, how old would you say Dumbledore was?"

"Old…" Harry made vaguely.

"He was almost 110."

"Impossible."

People could get this old of course, but they certainly wouldn't be in Dumbledore's condition. He had been old, but still strong, steady on his feet and alert. Harry would have been hard pressed to belief he was over 80.

"Impossible might need a new definition," Salazar pointed out gleefully. "But don't worry, Dumbledore won't be crawling out of his grave anytime soon. He never got his hands on the finished product, only something close to it. Less potent, diluted in its effects. Fewer people required I imagine."

"Fewer people required?" Harry echoed hollowly.

"That's what the chaos was for in the first place. Not that they told anyone. It sounds better if you sprout some nonsense about renovation than the truth. Fact is the original goal of the guild was not what came after the chaos, but what happened during the chaos. Lots of people dying. Apparently that's the primary requirement for eternal life."

The worst part about his explanation was that it actually started to make some sense. "Conservation of energy…"

"Exactly. And how better to hide dead bodies than in an even larger pile of dead bodies? But then again, if killing people were the only requirement, then we would have quite a lot of immortals amongst us by now."

He leaned back in his chair and relaxed, playing with the knife again. Grindelwald and Harry both observed him mutely.

"Which brings us back to our mystery boy," Salazar continued. "They needed a test subject of course. They weren't about to try it on themselves. And Harry Potter had been a thorn in their sides since he was born. They thought it was symbolic. The thing that intrigues me most however, is the fact that at this point the boy was a vegetable."

Harry remained silent, trying to keep his breathing regular.

Salazar cocked his head thoughtfully. "I heard he's a genius now."

Harry cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Not a vegetable in any case. Though his mind had been tampered with by Dumbledore before any of the things you just described could have happened to him."

"Yes, fascinating is it not? Just imagine the different effects interfering with each other. The implication of the distinct reactions within one individual is beyond intriguing. The first almost destroyed him, the second…what? Healed him? Made him immortal? Something else entirely? So tell me, what is he like?"

"Normal…" Harry challenged.

Salazar laughed. "Oh I highly doubt that. He's extraordinary even without the knowledge of the formula. With it he's invaluable."

"You want my help in getting him," Harry stated blankly.

What was he supposed to do? He needed to play Voldemort, otherwise Salazar would probably dissect him right then and there. But he couldn't just agree now could he? That would mean Salazar would actually expect him to deliver what he wanted. But if he didn't agree then things would definitely get ugly. And he would never find out what was wrong with him, let alone how to fix it.

Besides, what would Riddle do if offered a chance at immortality? What if Harry stood between him and the cure to the one thing he seemed to fear most? Hell, what was he supposed to tell Riddle once he was back home?

"It would be beneficial to us both," Salazar answered. "I have the information of Grindelwald, you have the information the boy can give you. If we collaborate we can get what we desire without stepping on each other's toes."

Yeah all that's left is killing a few thousand people. No big deal.

"Let me talk to him first. There's no need for drastic measures if I can get the information in other ways," Harry suggested, praying the other would agree.

"My thoughts exactly! Now…" he stood up gracefully and gestured to the house. "I do have another surprise for you lord Voldemort. A gift, actually."

Harry had had quite enough surprises for today and all he wanted was to get the fuck out of Salazar's reach.

Slazar entered the house, calling for someone.

This momentarily left Harry alone with Grindelwald. They stared at each other. It was abundantly clear to them both that neither had any control over the situation.

"You have to get me out of here," Grindelwald said at last.

Harry snorted. "Why the fuck should I?! I know what you did."

"I didn't tell him who you are did I? He will realize it soon you know. You better be far away from here when he does."

Harry shudder at the thought of Salazar finding out the truth. "That's none of your concern."

"The whole world should be concerned about him. Humans go mad when immortality is dangled in front of them. I have learned my lesson, do you think he ever will? If he isn't stopped our world will burn once more and you're going to be at the epicentre of it."

"Learned your lesson? I'm supposed to believe that?" Harry hissed back harshly.

"We are not made for eternal life."

"Oh great, so now you're regretting?"

Grindelwald looked at him sharply. "Why do you think Slytherin found me here in a remote area with no followers? Why do you think I live like a hermit instead of ruling the planet?"

"Well it's a bit late for repenting don't you think?"

He turned around briskly and started to leave.

"He's going to kill you boy," Grindelwald whispered after him. "You and everyone you know."

Harry whirled around. "Can I die?"

"I don't know. We certainly thought you were dead for good."

"What the hell does that mean?"

Grindelwald made a motion that would have been a shrug if he weren't bound to the chair so tightly. "It means you were dead. And now you're not."

Harry threw his hands in the air. "Wonderful, just bloody marvellous. The fuck did you do to me?!"

"I don't know."

"What?!"

"Slytherin is right. You're something else entirely. If you were like me then you wouldn't have died in the first place. And you wouldn't be a man now, you'd still be a boy, frozen in time," Grindelwald explained.

Harry took a deep breath, then took a few steps closer to the bound man. "How can I undo it?"

"I didn't lie when I said no one knows how it's done. You're the only one alive that has seen Flamel's research."

Something in Harry snapped. "Fuck you and your goddamn guild! I hope Salazar finds a way to kill you so you can rot in hell!"

"You will need my help," Grindelwald insisted.

"I do not. I've had it with you psychos," he hissed and turned back towards the house, entering the side door quickly and shutting the door with more force than necessary.

He would have taken the chance to run, but Rosier was still absent. He just hoped he hadn't ended up as Salazar's newest plaything.

He didn't have to wonder for much longer. As he entered the house's living room, Rosier was standing in one of the corners, eyeing another man warily.

His hair was straw blond, but if Bellatrix had a male counterpart, it would have to be this one. Harry didn't like the implications of that conclusion one bit.

"There you are lord Voldemort!" Salazar smiled sharply. "Meet Barty Crouch. He was very eager to meet you. Why, he downright adores you."

The man practically hopped towards him, a burlap bag clutched tightly in his arms and a manic glint in his eyes.

"It is such an honour to meet you my lord! I had hoped-…no, I had dreamed you would consider to make me one of your followers."

Well, shit.

"I have - I have proof of my worthiness! I have uncovered a plot-….A betrayal… He wanted to set a trap…in your most recent challenge."

He untied the bag hastily and flipped it over.

A severed head dropped to the ground right before Harry's feet.

"It's my father," Barty said eagerly.

Oh hell.

Would this day ever end?

.

.

A/N: Okay but seriously, I need them together again.

Well I should be able to reunite them in the next chapter. Fingers crossed.

Regarding Salazar, I do realize stereotypically he should probably have a blank pureblood mask on or something. But from the few things we actually know about him (close friends with Gryffindor, more of a scholar than anything) I chose to see him less like the archtypical slytherin and more as a sort of mad genius with Tom's mainpulative streak. You know, the kind that hides a giant chamber and a fucking basilisk in a school without telling his four friends about it lol. Just because he can.
He's much saner (and thus even more dangerous) than he lets on though.

Leave your thoughts here pretty please :)

Also, you can now find me on tumblr under terrific-lunacy. Feel free to drop by and ask me random stuff ;)