Phoenix From the Ashes

by AltruousAlliterator

The second war with Voldemort took a dark turn. One that ravaged the Earth and doomed humanity. Harry Potter has lost everyone he ever loved. When he interrupts a Dark ritual and is sent into another world, he sees familiar faces and events from his past occurring in front of him. What will he do? Will he fight against the darkness? Or will his past failures consume him? H/Multi

1. A Hero's Past

What – Normal

$What$ - Parseltongue

A lone figure walked through a dilapidated building. The wooden floors groaned with every step as the wood threatened to break. Insects skittered around casting haunting shadows on the walls. The crunch of broken glass sounded out amongst the stillness. The figure stopped in his tracks and stood still. Looking around, he found his mind assaulted with flashes of memories he had long since buried. His green eyes eerily glowed as he observed the surroundings. The building he was in used to be a tavern long ago. It seemed like many lifetimes ago when he had first stepped into the Leaky Cauldron with his half-giant escort. He had been a small, waifish boy that had been dragged from an abusive home into a secret new world filled with magic.

He had been surprised at his reception with people lining up to shake his hand for something he barely remembered. They hailed him as the "Boy-Who-Lived", the only person to ever survive the Killing Curse. It was quite tactless of them, to recognize him for not dying when his parents did. Although, this was something he had noticed only after numerous occurrences where he was ostracized and slandered. He was only the Boy-Who-Lived when it was politically expedient, or they wanted something from him. Otherwise, he was just Harry Potter, Muggle-raised teenage orphan that didn't know any better.

Looking back on his colorful scholastic career at the deathtrap named Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, it had become abundantly clear that the magical world might not have been the home he longed for. Every year was nothing but him being exposed to pain and suffering in different forms. He had experienced some of his greatest triumphs and failures within those halls. Each experience slowly draining the humanity out of him, driving him towards Death's cold embrace.

The first year, he had foolishly decided with his friends that he was responsible for the safety of the Philosopher's Stone which was hidden at Hogwarts. The hijinks they had gotten into was more than he had bargained for. Battling trolls, smuggling dragons, nearly falling to his death off his broom. He had learned the hard way about foolishly leaping without looking when he had confronted the wraith of Voldemort, his parent's murderer. He had utilized the protection of his mother's sacrifice to burn a possessed teacher to ashes. At least, that was what he had been told before he was sent back to his "loving" relatives. No therapy or counseling for him, no sir! He was the Boy-Who-Lived after all. A legendary hero who fought dragons and saved princesses. What was a little homicide in comparison?

His second year had gotten off to a great start, with a deranged house-elf warning him of a dark conspiracy against him and stealing his mail. Not to mention, he and his friend Ron had been blocked from the platform and had the bright idea to drive to Hogwarts in a flying car. It had been a hell of a start and it had only gotten worse from thereon. The "Heir of Slytherin" had made their debut at Hogwarts and started petrifying Muggleborn students. After a duel where he unknowingly sweet-talked a viper into not biting one of his classmates, Harry had been abandoned by nearly everyone and vilified as the Heir. They had tried to solve the mystery behind the petrification of students and had followed Hagrid's advice to "follow the spiders". He and Ron had nearly been eaten by the colony of acromantula, giant freaking spiders, that lived in the Forbidden Forest. In the end, it had only taken him fighting an ancient 100ft long basilisk with a sword and confronting the specter of Voldemort a second time to prove his innocence. He had suffered the unspeakable pain of basilisk venom coursing through his veins like hellfire before being saved by the tears of a phoenix. All he got in recompense was a pat on the back and a quick sorry from those who even bothered to apologize for their abysmal treatment of him. It was at this point that the glamour of the magical world started to fade for Harry.

His third year had started off with him blowing up his Uncle's sister Marge into a giant balloon. He remembered desperately wishing that the bitch had gone the way of the Hindenburg. She had repeatedly insulted his parents for their sacrifice and that had been too much for him to bear. He had been informed by his friends that a man named Sirius Black had escaped from the Wizarding prison, Azkaban. After eavesdropping on some professors during a Hogsmeade visit, he found out that Black had betrayed his parents to Voldemort and was the sole reason behind him being an orphan. Harry remembered the anger he felt. Two bloody years where he had nearly died, and no one thought to tell him about this man?! Not one person had mentioned him even remotely and it wasn't until he had escaped a supposedly inescapable prison, that they even deigned to inform him of his existence.

Long story short, Sirius Black turned out to be his godfather and innocent of his crime. He had proven his innocence by showing Harry and his friends a dead man who had been very much alive. Peter Pettigrew aka Scabbers the Rat, the real betrayer of his parents. A man who had slept in the same room as Harry for 9 months a year for two whole years. The year had ended with him and Hermione going back in time, driving off nearly a hundred Dementors with his Patronus Charm, confronting a werewolf, saving Buckbeak the Hippogriff and his innocent godfather. All in a couple of hours. He had nearly cried in joy when his godfather had offered him a home, only to have the prospect torn away by the actions of Snape and the Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge. He had gone back feeling dispirited but hopeful for the future, knowing that he had someone out there he could call family.

All that hope had been lost during his fourth year. His godfather was deemed a fugitive and had to stay on the run. He had attended the Quidditch World Cup only to have Death Eaters assault the crowds after the game. His wand had been stolen and used to cast the Dark Mark in the sky, the calling card of Voldemort and his Death Eaters. It had been announced that Hogwarts was hosting the Triwizard Tournament, a competition between the three prominent European schools of magic. The students of the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic and Durmstrang Institute had come to Hogwarts to compete in the event. The Goblet of Fire, the impartial judge in charge of choosing a champion from each school, had convinced Harry that he was going to have a quiet year. Along with the protections of an Age-Line drawn by Dumbledore himself, he wasn't worried at all. He had expressed his wishes to his friends and had been shocked when his name had come out of the blasted goblet. In hindsight, he should have known as Fate's favorite chew toy, he had no real control over his life. Despite proclaiming his innocence, he was treated with unmitigated scorn by his supposed friends, his House and the whole school in general. He had spent weeks being vilified in the Daily Prophet as an attention seeker that had submitted his name for more fame. It had taken him out flying a Merlin-be-damned dragon in the First Task to finally convince them otherwise, and even then, his relationship with the school was tenuous at best. It was the first time where he had felt so utterly alone in the world. He had taken refuge in the last place anyone would have guessed, the Chamber of Secrets. It was there he had met the man who would change his life forever.

Tucked away atop the basilisks nest was a study with a joined bedroom. In the study, overlooking the desk was a portrait of a handsome green-eyed man with a snake draped around his neck. He remembered the first time he had spoken vividly. "Well, you seem much saner than the last boy. What's your name, child?" Harry had been shocked as he hadn't really expected the portrait to speak to him. "My name's Harry, sir. Harry Potter. Are you really Salazar Slytherin?" He had not expected the sarcastic response out of the portrait. "No, I'm actually Godric Gryffindor. My portrait just happens to be placed in the secretive, private chamber of Salazar Slytherin. What an idiotic question. How can you be my descendant?" That had brought Harry out his daze quickly. Back then, he would never have tolerated being called the descendant of a Dark Wizard the likes of Salazar Slytherin. "I'm not your descendant. Your descendant is Tom Riddle, though he goes by the name Lord Voldemort nowadays." Salazar had gained a pensive look on his face upon hearing Harry's answer. "Tom Riddle. It has been a long time since I last heard that name. I see his silly little anagram has gained the notoriety he so desperately craved all those years ago. Though I am pretty sure you are my descendant, Harry Potter. Otherwise, you would not be able to enter my chamber."

This had thrown Harry for a loop, as he had been inculcated with opinions from his "best friend" Ron, that all Slytherins were Death Eaters in training. Historically, many Dark Wizards including Voldemort had belonged to Slytherin House. Now he was standing in front of the House's namesake, being told that he was a descendant of the man. He had refused to believe it at first. "No, I gained the ability of Parseltongue when your descendant attacked me and tried to kill me. He gave me some of his gifts when he was vanquished." Salazar had laughed and asked a question. "$ Do you understand me, child? $" Of course, he had heard English, so he had responded in kind "$Of course, I understand you. We've been talking for a while now, haven't we? $". Salazar had a victorious smirk on his face when he informed Harry that they had spoken in Parseltongue. Apparently, Parseltongue was a bloodline ability that belonged exclusively to the Slytherin family. Nobody could gain the ability without utilizing an extremely Dark blood ritual that sacrificed a member of the family who had the gift. Seeing as Harry had only been a year old on the date of Voldemort's attack, that possibility had been ruled out, leaving only one answer. It meant that he was, in fact, descended from Salazar Slytherin himself.

This had brought up multiple revelations that had rocked Harry's world. Apparently, his mother had been descended from the direct line of the Slytherin family that had gone through multiple generations of female squibs. The house had been resurrected through his mother and the reason he had survived that Halloween was because of the ancient Slytherin family magic. The Gaunt line that had spawned Voldemort had been a branch family that Salazar's illegitimate daughter had married into. Salazar had realized the Gaunt family and his daughter's desire to acquire his wealth, so he protected his main line's male descendants through a powerful sacrificial blood ritual. No member of the branch line would ever be able to magically harm a male member of the direct line. It had worked to secure his line for at least three hundred years after his passing before there were only squib daughters being born and the family magic went dormant.

Under Salazar's tutelage, he had learned the intricacies of Magical Theory, Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, and Rituals. Salazar had wanted to teach him the Mind Arts but found that he had almost no talent for them. It had been a disappointment to him, but he had forged on, nonetheless. He devoured the knowledge like a sponge, enjoying unlimited access to Salazar's private library. The ancient tomes in that library, some of which were thought lost to time, gave Harry power that he had never experienced before. With Salazar's supervision, he had undergone a couple of rituals that physically enhanced his body to the limit. He corrected the years of malnutrition, he gained the flexibility, strength, and stamina of a world-class athlete, and cleansed his body of impurities so his magic could flow freely. The rituals had been his saving grace as he had navigated the deadly tournament.

Despite Salazar's tutoring, some constraints came with Harry's age, namely lack of experience and a smaller spell repertoire. Time was the limiting factor and even if he spent nearly all his free time cooped up in the Chamber, learning from Salazar, the amount of knowledge he could gain was limited in scope. With his friends having "forgiven him" for his transgressions with the Goblet, he was enjoying their company again. A disastrous date with Padma Patil to the Yule Ball had resulted in Ron being chosen as his hostage for the Second Task. He had saved him and the Beauxbatons champion, Fleur Delacour's sister, Gabrielle. This had earned him a lot of appreciation from Fleur and had resulted in him getting tutored in Charms and Enchanting, her fields of specialty. Despite all the drama and betrayal, Harry rediscovered his love of magic and its many wonders. After years of a stale curriculum and him purposefully dumbing himself down, his love of learning had taken a backseat to his dangerous escapades.

The dark reality of his situation had set in upon the conclusion of the third task. Harry had reached the Triwizard Cup alongside Cedric Diggory. Being the Hufflepuff he was, he encouraged Harry to take it. Harry had insisted they both take it because they belonged to Hogwarts so either way it would be a win. It was a mistake Harry would regret for the rest of his life. Cedric had been killed by Pettigrew immediately after they had landed. Harry had been forced to donate his blood to a ritual that resulted in the resurrection of his archenemy, Voldemort. He had been forced to duel the monster and he had surprised him. The many hours he had spent learning with Salazar proved to be worth it as he gave Voldemort a half-decent fight. Their wands had interlocked in a battle of wills where the shades of his parents and Cedric Diggory appeared before him and assisted in his escape. He had been portkeyed back to Hogwarts with Cedric's body and proclaimed the revival of Voldemort to Dumbledore and Fudge. Fudge, being an incompetent half-wit, chose to stick his head in the sand and bury any possible evidence of the truth. Barty Crouch Jr, the outed Death Eater who impersonated the DADA professor Alastor Moody was Kissed by a Dementor before he could be properly interrogated. With another pat on the head for his victory and a pouch filled with a thousand galleons, he was sent back to his personal Hell on Earth. There he stewed in the misery and guilt of getting Cedric killed until the next year's potentially fatal encounter came early.

A couple of Dementors had tried to Kiss his cousin, and Harry had almost let them. The Dursleys were becoming unbearable and the way they worked him harder than a house elf had slowly pissed him off. Despite his many reservations, Harry had driven them away with a strong Patronus, only to be notified that the Ministry wanted to snap his wand and expel him from Hogwarts. He had been rescued by the members of Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix and transported to their headquarters, 12 Grimmauld Place. There, he had met up with his godfather Sirius and barely talked to his friends as revenge for leaving him in the dark. Apparently, the Wizarding world thought he was a crazy attention seeker who was a danger to himself and others. Harry had been beyond furious to learn that he was being treated like the "Boy Who Cried Voldemort" and took his frustrations out in the dueling room. Sirius had walked in on him as he had thrown an Entrails-Expelling Curse at the practice dummy. He had been surprised but agreed to keep Harry's capabilities a secret from the others. Sirius told him how proud he was for taking a stand and preparing himself for the war that was coming. Little did he know how ill-prepared he truly was.

Harry had been given a sham trial where he couldn't defend himself properly, only to be rescued at the last minute by Dumbledore. Dumbledore had told him that Voldemort could potentially access his mind, so he needed to learn Occlumency from Snape. Harry had refused, saying he did not have a talent for the Mind Arts. Upon being questioned as to how he knew, Harry eventually told him about his studying in the chamber and the portrait of Salazar that had taught him. Dumbledore had been caught off guard and had expressed his worry that Harry might be turning Dark. Eventually, things worked themselves out when Harry agreed to learn Occlumency from Snape and promised to not go to the Chamber anymore. Besides, now that Voldemort was back, he had to enjoy his time with his friends before the war heated up. His attraction towards Ginny had been increasing for a while, and he wanted to explore the possibility of a relationship with her.

His fifth year had been a mixed bag as the Ministry had sent a vindictive toad-like woman named Dolores Umbridge, fondly nicknamed Umbitch by her students, to be the DADA professor. She had taken a strong stance against Harry and his proclamation, shouting down any and all who supported him. She abused her authority to make Harry write lines with a Blood Quill during his detentions with her. Accompanying the physical torture, Snape's terrible Occlumency lessons left Harry delirious, oftentimes with a splitting headache. The greasy git had a look of joy on his face as he sent brutal Legilimency attacks at him. The months of physical and mental torture wore Harry down. The only saving grace was the DA, or Dumbledore's Army, a covert study group for Defence. Harry had been nominated to lead them in their learning and he had taken the responsibility seriously, teaching his friends spells that could save their lives in the upcoming war. Their sessions kept his mind off the pain and his sanity intact.

After a horrendous date with his former crush, Cho Chang, he had a vision that allowed the Order to save the life of Arthur Weasley. Umbridge had been named High Inquisitor and had chased Dumbledore out of Hogwarts. Her squad of hand-picked Slytherins were given authority over the rest of the houses, which they reveled in and abused frequently. After the DA was betrayed by one of its members, they had to disband to save themselves from expulsion. It hurt Harry to see the one good thing happening in his life be taken away from him, but it had paled in comparison to what had happened next.

The end of the year had been one of the lowest points in his entire life. He had been tricked by Voldemort into going to the Department of Mysteries to rescue his godfather. Sirius had not been there, and the Death Eaters had ambushed them in the Hall of Prophecy. He and his friends fought back as best they could but were getting overrun when help finally arrived. His godfather had burst in, wand blazing as he redirected Bellatrix Lestrange's attention to him. They had dueled in the Death Room of the Department of Mysteries when Sirius had made a fatal mistake. He had resorted to goading his opponent into making a mistake, which was his old tactic as an Auror. What he had failed to realize, was how rusty he had gotten as he had languished in Azkaban for twelve years. Ultimately, Bellatrix tagged him with a Blood Boiler that sent him hurtling back through the Veil of Death. Harry had tried to avenge him by Cruciating Bellatrix, only to have the spell fail as he lacked the feelings to fuel it. Voldemort had arrived and battled Dumbledore in a duel that showed Harry exactly how unprepared he was for the war. The power and finesse they each showed made Harry question whether he would ever be able to defeat Voldemort. Even Dumbledore, for all his prowess, was struggling a little, his age catching up to him. Whereas Voldemort seemed to be able to keep tossing spells with abandon.

Both fighters had resorted to increasingly powerful and grand Transfigurations that amazed Harry. They had gone into a stalemate when Voldemort made his move. Being aware of the piece of him inside Harry, he had struck with a powerful Legilimency attack. By utilizing their shared connection, Voldemort attempted to possess Harry to kill Dumbledore, knowing Dumbledore would never retaliate against a student. Voldemort's voice was screaming in his head as he felt the evil magic inside his scar corrupting his very being. He felt intense pain, not unlike the feeling of the basilisk venom, in his mind. He fought with all he had and was able to push Voldemort out by the skin of his teeth.

Unknowingly, by repelling Voldemort's attempted possession, he had absorbed the soul fragment within him. This had resulted in him gaining all of Voldemort's knowledge up until the day he attempted to murder him. While he did not have full access to the totality of the knowledge, he was able to get timely flashes here and there. Upon freeing himself of the soul fragment, Harry had discovered something that had chilled his heart. He had been Obliviated, repeatedly from a young age. His mind had fought Voldemort off and the memories that had been Obliviated had all come back to him. The man behind the spelling? Albus Dumbledore. Yet he alone was not responsible for all of them. Ron, Hermione, Molly, and Snape had all had a hand in erasing his memories.

Every single time his magic had fought back against the Dursleys' abuse, Dumbledore had shown up with Pomphrey, healed him, erased everyone's memory and left. What little magic he could remember doing were the few events that Dumbledore allowed him to remember to prepare him for his reentry into the world of magic. He had caught Molly informing Ginny of the plan to potion him into marrying her so they could access the Potter Vault. She had caught him in a Body-Bind and Obliviated him to keep him ignorant of their plan. Ron had made numerous slip-ups being the jealous moron he was and had to Obliviate Harry numerous times whenever information about his family came up. When he had found out about potions that could cure his scrawny frame and gone to Pomphrey about them, she had directed him to Snape. Snape had promptly wiped his mind of any knowledge and then put compulsions on him to not proactively approach anyone for medical help.

Hermione had been the one that had hurt the most. She had been tasked by Dumbledore to make sure that Harry passed his subjects with average grades and ensure that he does not excel in any subject save for DADA. She was the counterbalance to Ron, who had no academic drive whatsoever. Harry had shown a gift for Transfiguration, Charms, Runes, and Potions; all the fields his parents were known to be extremely talented in. He was so gifted in the subjects that he could have been called a prodigy. This had not sat well with Hermione, who felt she had studied harder than him to succeed. She had gladly wiped his memories of academic success with a smile on her face, probably laughing at his stupidity for trusting her. It explained why the subjects had come so naturally to him when he was studying with Salazar. She had been through thick and thin with him, so her betrayal had forever broken his trusting nature.

Dumbledore had seen and wiped everything that Harry had learned in the Chamber from Salazar. He used compulsions to make sure he wouldn't seek Salazar's tutelage when that was exactly what he needed to prepare for the war. All the knowledge of spells he had learned and rituals that he had undergone came flooding back to him. He remembered the full fight between him and Voldemort. Dumbledore had selectively erased the parts of the battle that showed Harry pushing Voldemort back with particularly lethal Dark curses. Although it was probably due to him being freshly revived that Harry had been able to drive him to a stalemate.

With all this knowledge forcefully being recalled all at once, he had fainted and woken up in the Hogwarts infirmary. He had been summoned to Dumbledore's office where he was told the prophecy in its entirety. In summary, it was either Harry or Voldemort who had to die and they would inevitably be pushed into a confrontation. Dumbledore also revealed that he knew the abuse Harry had gone through as he mentioned dooming Harry to "ten dark years". Harry had made his displeasure known by angrily pulsing his magic, destroying most of the delicate gizmos on Dumbledore's desk. After throwing his tantrum, he was packed back onto the Hogwarts Express being sent back to his prison cell in Durzkaban.

He was depressed the entire summer as he was worked to the bone and fed table scraps. Sirius' death had weighed heavily on him and had him crying himself to a fitful sleep every night. Vernon and Petunia had shown no appreciation for him saving Dudley, going so far as to blame him for everything going wrong in their lives. It was decided that he had to "earn his keep", so Vernon had effectively marketed him as a delinquent who needed to be disciplined through hard work to the entire neighborhood. They had paid him a pitiful amount of money for doing their yard work and all his hard-earned cash was taken by Vernon after he returned home. With the Ministry finally getting their heads out of their asses, Fudge had been unceremoniously ousted from his position as Minister and Madam Amelia Bones had been a good prospect to take over. She had been attacked and killed over the summer, supposedly by Voldemort himself. The Ministry started panicking and elected the closest equivalent to Bones, Head Auror Rufus Scrimgeour.

The man turned out to be a shrewd politician, using Percy Weasley to connect with the Weasley family and access Harry through them. Harry had refused to play the man's game and had gotten a harsh reminder that despite the current situation, the Ministry held a lot of power and they could make his life difficult. When he had gone school supply shopping with the traitors, he had spotted Draco Malfoy slipping into Borgin and Burkes. Harry had postulated that he had become a marked Death Eater over the summer and made his suspicions known. He had been summarily dismissed by everyone, saying that Malfoy couldn't possibly be up to anything harmful. Harry was doubtful of their claims and the revelations of their betrayal made him loath to argue anymore.

During the first week back, he had been certain that Malfoy was up to something, so he kept a close eye on the Marauder's Map. He was tailing Malfoy one day when he had lost him and discovered a passageway on the map he had never seen before. Following the map, he found himself back in the Chamber, coming out of one of the numerous pipes that encircled the main structure. He rushed to the study and found Salazar resting in his portrait. He had called out to him, waking him up. To say that Salazar was unhappy would have been an understatement. He was resentful about Harry not visiting him for an entire year. Harry had explained all that had happened, and Salazar had been outraged at the way his descendant had been treated. Together, they had come up with an accelerated study plan that would cover all the way into NEWT level topics. They had chosen to use Harry's "obsession" with Draco Malfoy's activities as a cover for him not being there.

It had been a good plan, as neither Ron nor Hermione were aware of what he was really doing when he was "tailing Malfoy". Salazar had become a harsh instructor, demanding the best out of him as he drilled the fundamentals of magic into his brain. They also didn't stick to only magic but also dabbled in economics, politics, and warfare. Harry had extensively studied the last war to gain any information that could be used to his advantage in the upcoming one. Slytherin was a shrewd debater who could get his opponents to agree with his point of view. It was a trait that Voldemort had in spades as he built up his support base among the Purebloods. He had given them a cause to unite against Muggleborns and Halfbloods. Dumbledore seemed unwilling to confront the enemy, opting for passive, reactionary tactics. Hence, Harry had to find and unite the fighters that would be able to bring the war to the Death Eaters. Even though he was a mere Hogwarts student, he was an influential figure that could affect the outcome of the war. With that damned prophecy in play, he would have no choice but to fight even if he didn't want to.

One day, he was studying in the Chamber when Salazar had come rushing back into his portrait. "Harry, your friends were just invited to the Headmaster's office. There's a passageway behind the main tower, second one from the right that leads to a room where you can spy on the meeting. Tap your wand on the wall. It's enchanted to be a one-way mirror and silenced, so you can see and hear them, but not vice-versa." Harry had listened to him and followed the path to a small alcove left of the Headmaster's desk. He tapped his wand as instructed, and the wall in front of him turned crystal clear, allowing him to see inside. He saw Dumbledore call in Ron and Hermione, and they came in and delivered a status report. It mainly detailed his suspicions about Malfoy and how he was using his free time to tail him. Dumbledore's response had surprised him with even more details that he hadn't thought to check.

"Excellent work you two. However, we must be diligent and not lower our guards. There is too much riding on the plan for us to fail. Ronald, how has Harry's potion regimen been coming along?" Ron had responded with a sneer that would make Snape proud. "It's going great professor. The git has no idea we've been slipping him the potions since the tournament and we've been very careful with the dosages, so he doesn't notice anything out of the ordinary. Along with the Loyalty Potions, Wit Dulling and Amortentia, Mum's been thinking of maybe introducing an Impotence Draught. With the current dosages, the Amortentia won't take hold until the beginning of his seventh year. Even if by some miracle he gets with a girl, he won't be able to get it up. She says we could counter this with a Lust Potion keyed only towards Ginny. He would only be able to get it up with her, making him think she's the only one for him." He had been frozen as he listened to the intricate details of their little conspiracy. They had been potioning him for nearly two years while he had eaten in Hogwarts and the Burrow. He felt sick and was about to leave when he heard Dumbledore's reply. "Wonderful. Tell Molly she has my permission to start the dosage of Impotence Draught as soon as possible. The boy destroyed most of the blood monitors I had last year, save two before he left. Hence, I haven't been able to ascertain the status of the charms I've placed on him. I will call him into my office periodically to show him some critical information he will need for the Hunt. When he's here, I can check and refresh the charms I've placed on him and his belongings as necessary. Thank you both for your efforts. Remember the end goal." Ron had a malicious smile on his face when he asked "You promise that we'll be getting half of the Potter family fortune? As far as I know, only Lord Potter would be able to access the main family vault. We haven't come this far only to be stiffed at the last second by the goblins."

Typical Ron, lusting after Harry's money. Up until that point, he hadn't even known that there was a "Potter family fortune". He had been to Gringotts only a single time when he first came to get school supplies for Hogwarts. He had entrusted his vault key to Mrs. Weasley so she could buy his school supplies for him. Now that he thought about it, it made sense why they didn't want him going to Gringotts. If he realized the true wealth his family had left behind, he might have become aware of his station. This was something that the traitors did not want to happen at any cost. Dumbledore had calmly replied to his concerns by stating "Do not worry Ronald. You and your family will be well provided for. I have, in my possession, the Potter Head of House ring and a signed will that leaves half to the Weasleys and the other half to the Order. I wrote it up and disguised it as standard paperwork for Harry to sign, so his signature and the magic within is authentic. The goblins will not be able to interfere with the Last Will and Testament of Lord Potter. It would be construed as violating the treaty."

Not wanting to be left out, Hermione had piped up and asked about her reward. "Professor Dumbledore, I hope you remembered that I get the entire Potter and Black libraries along with their grimoires. It was what we agreed upon when I started, and I too want some assurances." This had thrown Harry for a loop. When did he have a library? Moreover, how was she demanding the Black library? Last he checked it belonged to the Black family, not him. His questions were answered by Dumbledore soon after. "Of course, Ms. Granger. I have put in the necessary bequeathal requests in the will, however, unless Harry takes up the Black Lordship that Sirius left him, it does not hold up legally for any property of the Blacks. As of right now, the Order has unfettered access to the library at Grimmauld Place. Surely, we can find a way for Harry to take the lordship and then when the plan is complete, both libraries will belong to you. Keep up the great work in your academics and I guarantee that you will become Head Girl next year." Satisfied with his response, Ron and Hermione had left the office, presumably to go find him.

Harry's head had been spinning at all the things they had hidden from him. He was entitled to the lordship of the Potter family. He had no idea what the title entailed, but it had to be significant from the way they had been talking about it. Sirius had apparently designated him as the next Lord Black in his will, the reading of which Harry did not receive an invitation. He had stumbled back to the Chamber, desperately hoping to talk to Salazar about what he had heard. The conversation they had shared had been peppered with colorful swears as Salazar marveled at the depths of the conspiracy against his sole descendant. Their political lessons had not yet touched upon Lordships, so he had given Harry a brief overview. It was at that point that Harry effectively stopped feeling anything for his friends. Earlier, he would have felt anger or sadness at the lengths they went to, but now all he felt was cold indifference. Salazar had noticed and immediately complimented Harry on his Occlumency practice. Harry had been confused until Salazar had explained that he had retreated behind his barriers moments ago when he was explaining Ron and Hermione's actions. Their talk took a detour as they revisited the principles of Occlumency and Legilimency. It turned out that Harry had great potential in both, seeing as Mind Arts was a specialty of the Slytherin family. Having a soul parasite inside him was not conducive to learning the Mind Arts, but once he was free of it, he took to them like a fish to water. They dedicated some practice time in his schedule and Harry got back into his routines with a vengeance.

It turned out to be extremely helpful in the long run, as it improved Harry's ability to recall information. The downside was the foundation of Occlumency was all about sorting through one's own memories. It helped with processing information and new memories as they would all be categorized and stored separately with barriers guarding them. With Voldemort's nearly fifty-five years' worth of memories forcefully occupying space in his mind, all the memories were piled in a big heap. This made Harry's task of sorting through his own memories difficult as he had to first sort out which memories were his own and partition it separately from Voldemort's. If he wasn't careful and mixed up their memories, his sense of self would have been irreparably damaged. It didn't help that he was sorting through the memories of a psychopath who inflicted an immeasurable amount of pain and death to allies and enemies alike. It had taken him almost two months just to split the pile, but he had steadily progressed from there on, sorting out all his memories in three weeks of daily practice. Then came the tricky part. Voldemort's memories were traumatizing, to say the least, but Harry knew that being able to access his skills and knowledge could help in the war. So, he dedicated his Occlumency practice for the rest of his sixth year going through the memories while stripping them of their emotional context. It was a technique that Salazar had taught him to prevent the inevitable trauma caused by viewing thousands of gruesome murders and crimes against humanity.

It was through this sorting that Harry had stumbled upon the information of Horcruxes. Voldemort had been obsessed with making seven of them, because of the innate magical properties and stability of the number seven in Arithmancy. The process involved tearing out pieces of his soul and storing them inside magical objects. The concept had been stolen by Herpo the Foul from the ancient Egyptian pharaohs and their practice of creating phylacteries. The difference is that while the pharaohs chose to put their entire soul into the object, Herpo took it one step further by designing a ritual that only cleaved part of the soul. This would help keep the physical body stable, while also grounding the user to the physical plane. Even if their body was destroyed, a Horcrux could potentially be used to preserve their soul in the form of a wraith. It explained exactly how Voldemort had survived that night and his form when Harry had confronted him during his first year.

He had a chilling realization that he had inadvertently been made into a pseudo-Horcrux, as Voldemort's final memory indicated that he wanted to use Harry's murder to create another Horcrux. The ritual itself demanded that the caster murder in cold blood by utilizing the Killing Curse and then use the residual soul magic of the curse to split their soul and guide it into a vessel. It was theoretically impossible for a human being to become a Horcrux, as another soul couldn't take up residence in a body with a complete soul. No matter how small the piece, it would fight with the host soul and either take over or be exorcised. There was no possible way for the fragment to have remained in his head for so long unless there was some other influence involved.

It had taken the better part of four years to figure out why it had been the case. Dumbledore had tied the blood wards around 4 Privet Drive to himself and himself alone. The part of the mother's blood dwelling turned out to be complete bullshit, as Petunia and Lily were not blood sisters. The necessary power for the blood wards came from him and the rest of his magic was tied up fixing the abuse inflicted upon his body. With most of his magic preoccupied, there was only enough left to contain the soul fragment, but not fight it. As Harry's magic grew, Dumbledore sealed it annually to prevent it from maturing enough to expel the soul parasite. The only reason he had been able to absorb the fragment was because of Voldemort's attempted possession. Also, the fragment, having been inundated with his magic and buried in his mind for so long, had become quite compatible with him. It was why his own soul hadn't fought back when it merged with him.

The conversation he had heard had brought to light things that Harry hadn't been aware of. Weasley was confident that he and his family could comfortably live like kings off half the Potter family fortune for the rest of their lives, so it had to substantial. Hermione had been promised authority in the school as Head Girl, along with the extensive library of the Potter and Black families. Dumbledore had apparently been willing to gift the Potter family grimoire away to her as she felt that it was unfair for Pureblood families to hoard knowledge. She didn't acknowledge the blood, sweat, and tears of tens of generations of Potters accumulating and adding their spells and knowledge to the family grimoire. If it was magical knowledge she couldn't access, it was deemed unfair. It was so typical of her, the Mudblood.

He had initially been very hesitant to use that word, but people like Granger really fit the term so well. Instead of learning and understanding the culture of the world she had entered, she decried their traditions as barbaric and sought to reshape magical society in the image of their Muggle counterparts. To her, all magic users were backward and needed to be brought into the 21st century. Purebloods had no right to hoard their knowledge and their family magics should be democratized to allow every magical to learn it. It would be the equivalent of him going to China and then calling their culture and practices barbaric and attempting to impose his Western British ideals onto them as their "better". The mere thought was ignorant and condescending at best. However, that was exactly what Granger and every person like her thought, convinced of the innate superiority of Muggles. No, to him, there was a difference between a Muggleborn and a Mudblood.

To counter their potions regimen, Salazar instructed Harry on the brewing of a Flushing Potion. It was a rarely used healing potion that stripped out all potions in a person's bloodstream. The side effect was the agonizing vomiting and the strain it put on the stomach and throat. Harry had gone to the Room of Requirement, drank it and spent the next 24 hours puking his guts out. Although it was painful to go through, the potion worked as intended and he had never felt more clear-headed in his life. He had Salazar teach him spells to check for potions in his food and drinks as well as how to brew their respective antidotes. Every day, he nonverbally and wandlessly cast the spells on the meals he consumed and without fail, they came back positive. Harry had taken to drinking the antidotes before he drank or ate anything, which allayed any doubts the traitors might have had. He decided to unleash his inner Slytherin and keep up appearances while countering their efforts to control him covertly.

He had asked Salazar about going to Gringotts, but he couldn't find a way to get out of Hogwarts without anyone finding out. His answer came when he signed up for a twelve-week apparition course for those turning seventeen before the next school year. He had been able to Apparate flawlessly by the end of the sixth week but didn't advertise the fact. Salazar had told him about the Chamber being separately warded. The strong Anti-Apparition wards that surrounded Hogwarts did not affect Apparition from the Chamber. If he was going to go to Gringotts, the best time would be over the weekend where he could fake being sick. He could sort out the issue with his lordships, but Salazar also asked him a favor. He wanted Harry to take the Slytherin lordship as he was already the designated Heir through the family magic. He could only do the inheritance test after accepting the Black lordship. They followed through with the plan and Harry managed to get to Gringotts where he found out about the true state of his lordships.

The goblins were upset when he had come to claim the Black lordship. He had met with Fistslam, the Black Account Manager and was berated for taking his sweet time to assume the Lordship. To them, the moment Sirius had died, the Black vault had gone dormant until the will reading. Until Harry came to claim the lordship, they would be losing money every minute that passed by. Without the authorization of the new Lord Black, the goblins could not continue investing. When Harry had explained the situation, Fistslam had been incensed. To them, Harry was a valued customer, seeing as the Potter and Black fortunes were the largest in Gringotts. The fact that he was not told about his holdings and was coerced into giving up his vault key was cause for concern. They found out that the Potter Account Manager had passed long ago, and a new goblin hadn't been selected for the task. Harry had asked Fistslam and he had agreed, seeing as the houses were going to be under the same person.

He got updated on Sirius' will and what he had bequeathed him. Sirius had emancipated him as his magical guardian. To take up the Black lordship, Harry had to undergo a blood adoption ritual. This would effectively make Sirius his father and would allow him to claim the lordship due to direct line inheritance. Otherwise, the Malfoys could make the case that Draco was more closely related and therefore had primacy. With Lucius "donating" enough money, the Wizengamot might have chosen to grant them the title and seat. He would be damned before he allowed the Black family fortune to go into Voldemort's war chest.

He imbibed the potion that contained Sirius' blood and was formally adopted into the Black family. His hair became softer and gained some luster. His facial structure became more angular with his cheekbones elevating to give an aristocratic countenance. The biggest change occurred in his bones, giving him a bit more than four inches of height. By the end of the hour, he was reborn as Lord Harrison James Potter-Black. He had found out his real name was Harrison and not Harry. One more thing nobody had bothered to tell him. This was a huge problem as he didn't want others to know about his ascension to lordship. After the potion's effects were complete, he signed some paperwork and was presented with the Black family ring. It was a stylized B on the seal and three ravens with rubies for eyes all on a silver band. When he had slipped the ring on, a cold breeze had flown through his very being. It was for a fleeting moment that Harry felt like something was looking through his soul and seeing all his secrets. After a moment, it resized to fit his finger and warmth emanated from it as a raven flew out of the ring and landed on his shoulder. It bowed its head and flew into him. He started recalling knowledge he didn't know he had. All the Black family properties, family rituals, certain spells from the grimoire and other relevant information. It was slightly disorienting, but Harry managed to keep his wits about him. After he claimed the lordship, he was recognized as an adult in the eyes of the Ministry and Magic itself.

He had asked Fistslam for an inheritance test and had been met with skepticism. After insisting and paying the fee, he dropped seven drops of his blood into a ritual bowl and it had coalesced into the Slytherin Head of House ring. Fistslam's eyes had nearly bulged out of their sockets as he saw the ring in the ritual bowl. The line of Slytherin was long thought extinct, with only Tom Riddle from the Gaunt family claiming to be the Heir Slytherin. Harry had taken up the Slytherin lordship and the experience from the Black family ring had been mirrored. Having reactivated one of the first ten vaults in Gringotts, Harry was led to the office of Ragnok, Gringotts UK Branch Manager. They had gone over some of the intricacies of the Slytherin lordship and family vault. With that, Harry had taken the initiative to get tested for magical blocks.

They had found six blocks on him that each blocked half of the remaining magic, meaning Harry had been operating with access to only 1/64 of his total magic. Each block had been placed near the beginning of every school year. It was a startling figure as Harry had never thought he was that powerful. Sure, he was more powerful than most of his classmates, but in his mind, that magical level was restricted to titans like Voldemort and Dumbledore. It was only much later that he found out that the prophecy that referred to him was a true prophecy. Meaning, Magic itself had guided the prophecy to be fulfilled. It had bestowed upon him power that could match that of Voldemort's, even with all the foul rituals he had undergone to enhance himself.

The goblins had taken him to the ritual room and broken down all the blocks on his core. At the end of the ritual, he had felt an ungodly amount of magical power coursing through his body. His magic sang in joy as it regained its freedom.

He found himself sensitive to all the magic around him, feeling the different magic from the goblins and the runes in the ritual room. It was as if he had finally opened his eyes for the first time and the world looked completely different. Ragnok had told him that what he had was the ability of natural Magesight. It allowed the witch or wizard to literally see the flow of magic and it was a very handy ability for Cursebreakers. This was why Gringotts trained all Cursebreakers in sensing magic an equipped them with items that gave them an artificial version of the natural talent. It was said that Magesight would only manifest in the most gifted and powerful wizards, which was why it was a rare talent. Harry was excited as this meant he could study Runes, Wards, and Rituals from a completely different perspective.

Harry had chosen to draw up a new will where he designated half of his entire wealth to be split between Neville and Luna, his only true friends, and the rest to be converted to pounds and donated to various Muggle charities. If he left anything to the British Wizarding World at large, it would inevitably end up in the pockets of corrupt Ministry officials or administrators. All the books and artifacts were to be given to the goblins, as he didn't trust anyone else with them. That gesture had earned him a lot of goodwill with Ragnok, who helped Harry disguise himself after his transformation. He had waived the fees for a pair of magical suppression armbands and his glasses were enchanted to be Anti-Summoning, Obliviation-proof and also tied to a powerful goblin blood-glamour charm that would only show the old, scrawny Harry to everybody who saw him. Even those with Magesight wouldn't be able to see through the glamour, although they would be able to see the telltale signs of enchantments on his glasses.

Ironically, Dumbledore had chosen to charm his glasses with tracking and other befuddling charms, so the enchantments simply hid underneath the charms that were already present. This ensured that even if he inspected Harry using Magesight, he wouldn't be able to discover the discreet enchantments or their functionality.

He had stepped out of Gringotts feeling like a new man and promptly Apparated to the Chamber.

He had discussed the results of the meeting with Salazar and their success was encouraging, given the situation. After going back to the Gryffindor Common Room, he was confronted by Hermione, who interrogated him on his whereabouts. He had responded half-heartedly that Malfoy was up to something in the Room of Requirements, a clue he had found nearly two months previously. He knew she would report back to Dumbledore and he would do something about it and wasn't worried at all. Later that week, he had been called into Dumbledore's office to begin their lessons on Voldemort. It had been an entirely pointless exercise where they viewed memory after memory in a pensieve. Harry had been bored out of his mind and wanted to learn some magic, but Dumbledore had told him that the focus of their lessons would be learning about Voldemort's past. Harry had been on his guard every moment he spent in the presence of Dumbledore and never slipped up even once.

He had been tasked with acquiring the memory from the Potions professor Horace Slughorn. He had accomplished this task rather easily as he worked his charm by excelling in Potions using modified potion recipes, he had found in an old potions textbook. With a sip of Felix Felicis, liquid luck, he had completed his task and retrieved the memory from Slughorn. Dumbledore had viewed it with him, and Harry found out that it was regarding the number of Horcruxes Voldemort had made. It had taken a significant effort for him to not scream out loud in frustration. All those months of pretending to like the fat, greedy bugger and it was for knowledge he already had. Dear old Tom's soul fragment had given him the items he used for his Horcruxes. Harry had gotten flashes inside the room of requirements and had found the Diadem of Ravenclaw that Tom had hidden inside the Room of Hidden Things. After quickly consulting Salazar, they had used basilisk venom to destroy it. That had been nearly two months before he had gotten the memory from Slughorn.

Dumbledore had taken Harry on a mission to the cave that contained the locket Horcrux. They had crossed the lake filled with Inferi and reached the basin. Dumbledore had made Harry promise to make him drink up the potion to completion. After doing so, they had struggled against the Inferi as Dumbledore had been weakened by the potion. Harry did not want his skill to be seen, so he threw around a couple of harmless spells to be seen struggling. Dumbledore had, of course, pulled them through by wielding a large tornado of fire to burn all the Inferi to ashes. Tired and exhausted, they made their way out of the cave and Disapparated back to Hogsmeade, where they saw the Dark Mark over the Astronomy Tower. Borrowing brooms from Madam Rosmerta, the owner of the Three Broomsticks, they flew to the Astronomy tower and what happened next had profound consequences for the Light side.

Harry did not expect the Body-Bind Curse and Stickfast Hex that hit him in the back. Dumbledore apologized and draped Harry's invisibility cloak over him. Harry watched as Draco Malfoy burst in and disarmed Dumbledore. In what Harry could only construe as an act of senile dementia, Dumbledore tried to convince the ferret, who openly admitted being a Death Eater, to join the Light so he could "be saved". Hearing the soft voice of Dumbledore trying to push his "everyone can be redeemed" Hippogriff shit made Harry almost break the Body Bind just so he could gag.

The Dark Mark wasn't just some fancy tattoo that Voldemort handed out. It was a brand that was gained through a ritual that involved the rape, torture, and murder of an innocent. You could not be coerced into taking the Dark Mark as the final part of the ritual involved a pledge of loyalty, where the intent of the individual had to be willing. In the early days, the Death Eaters would kidnap Muggleborns to conduct the initiation, but Draco had probably used a Muggle. The fact that he had that mark and blatantly rubbed it in Dumbledore's face proved that the ferret was no longer an innocent in the fight and had chosen his side.

Malfoy started the traditional evil villain monologue where he explained how he had snuck the Death Eaters into the castle by fixing the Vanishing Cabinet in the Room of Requirement. He had apparently also tried multiple times to assassinate Dumbledore, but seemingly couldn't get to him. As he was bragging about getting one over the "great Albus Dumbledore", he was soon joined by multiple Death Eaters who encouraged Draco to finish the job. It turned out that Malfoy was still as pathetic as ever, as he was unable to kill an unarmed, defenseless old man. Harry had felt some sense of pity towards how incompetent Draco was. For all his masterful planning and execution, he just didn't have the guts to "pull the trigger", as the Muggles would say. As he was struggling, the greasy dungeon bat himself had come to the front of the group. Dumbledore had turned towards him and pleaded, to which Snape replied with a Killing Curse to the face.

The moment Dumbledore's body flew back through the air, the spells on Harry were weakened enough for him to fight, so he sprung into action. The Death Eaters were retreating and causing chaos to cover their escape, attacking anyone unfortunate enough to be in their way. Harry had run after them using his cloak to maneuver into the best position to attack them. They had hit a straight corridor that led to the exit near the greenhouses when Harry struck.

He transfigured multiple suits of armor into metal spikes and sent them hurtling towards the retreating Death Eaters. Rowle and Gibbon hadn't been paying attention and paid the price with their lives as the spikes pierced their vitals. Carrow had been critically wounded along with Malfoy taking a spike to the leg, as he fell in pain. He raised his wand to shield, but Harry had been quicker and disarmed him. Snape had turned around and sent multiple Dark Curses towards Harry's general direction. Harry had swerved out of the way and retaliated with even more lethal Dark Curses, one of which was Sectumsempra, a Dark Cutting Curse he found in the potions book. Severus had recognized the curse and deflected it, announcing his title as the Half-Blood Prince, the creator of the curse. With a quick Exploding Charm, he had used the debris and smoke as cover to rush Draco out of the wards and Disapparated.

Harry had been disappointed that he hadn't managed to kill neither Snape nor Malfoy. At least that way he could have avenged the murderer of Dumbledore. He had disliked the man a lot, as Albus Dumbledore had knowingly dropped him into an abusive home and manipulated his life, but the people would want him avenged. Had he not met Salazar, Harry had no doubt he would've regarded the man's words as gospel and willingly chosen to sacrifice his life for the "Greater Good", to end Voldemort once and for all. Now, he had no doubt that everyone would turn to him to lead them in the fight. The Ministry was still as corrupt and incompetent as ever, so the people would logically choose him as their figurehead with Dumbledore gone.

He had approached the body of Dumbledore and felt a sense of profound sadness and loss. He had learned horrible truths and hated the man for his actions regarding him, but there was no doubt that Albus Dumbledore had been one of the finest minds in the entirety of Wizarding Britain. All the esoteric and obscure magic he knew was now lost with him. So many things that Harry could have learned. So many things that might have benefited them in the war. All selfishly taken to the grave by a man so caught up in his own cult of personality that he never acknowledged that he could be wrong. If only he had chosen to teach Harry for real, things might have turned out differently. Perhaps, Harry would have been ready to bear the mantle of the Leader of the Light, but now, he only felt despair, as the Light's greatest line of defense had fallen.

He had adjusted Dumbledore's glasses and cleaned up his face to give him some proper dignity. He noticed out of the corner of his eye that the black glove Dumbledore had been wearing had torn, exposing the skin underneath. The black, ashy skin along with the blackened veins showed the telltale symptoms of a curse that Salazar had taught him. It was called the Withering Curse, a violent and progressive parasitical curse that drained the victim's magic and life. He almost laughed at the irony of the situation. Salazar had made sure to teach him how to brew the antidote and cast the counter-curse in case he had ever gotten hit with one. All Dumbledore had to do was share information about his plight with Harry and he could've been saved.

This explained a lot of the motivation behind Dumbledore's actions. He knew he was going to die, so he purposefully surrendered and probably asked old Snivellus to kill him instead of letting "poor, innocent Draco" do the deed. More than likely it was because he felt Draco could have been saved from the Dark Lord, hence his little speech in the Astronomy Tower. He removed the locket Horcrux that they had retrieved only to find out that it was a fake, switched out by someone with the initials R.A.B. Harry got flashes but didn't know what to make of them. They showed a handsome young man and a house-elf at the cave they had gone to. Someone had stolen the real one, which meant that should old Voldy check, he'll realize that its missing and attempt to recollect all the others. This meant that Harry had a limited amount of time to hunt down the real locket Horcrux and destroy the rest of them.

He had gone back to the chamber after excusing himself from the gathered crowd and discussed his next move with Salazar. The war would start in earnest next year, and no one would be spared. Hunting down the Horcruxes was the top priority for Harry and he was going to get a head start, despite what the morons in the Order were saying. The game was officially on, and Harry was on the clock. During the week leading up to Dumbledore's funeral, Harry had been in the Chamber, preparing hundreds of potions. He had Apparated to Diagon Alley, cleared out the apothecaries, and bought items for his go-bag.

A fully loaded Wizarding tent equipped with the latest security enchantments. He also bought a trunk to keep his spare potions, library, and money. It was locked with a Blood Seal that ensured only he and those with his permission could open the trunk. It was also enchanted to be featherlight, invisible, impervious and fire-resistant all the way up to Fiendfyre. He carried the trunk on a necklace charmed to be invisible and only removable by him. He started learning more wards that could help secure his base of operations. Anti-Apparition, Signature-based Portkey, Repelling, Confundus, and any that dealt with intent were the ones he studied extensively. He read up about Healing spells, glamour charms and anything that could potentially save his life and give some security. The Death Eaters would be playing for keeps, and their spell selection would reflect that, so Harry started drilling in counter-curses, to cover a large range of Dark spells and curses.

He had gone and retrieved Dumbledore's wand from the Astronomy Tower, only to have it shoot golden sparks from the tip as he picked it up. He felt a connection to the wand. One much deeper than he felt to his own holly and phoenix feather wand. His magic sang to him in a way he hadn't experienced before as he held the wand. While in euphoria he found himself entranced by the knowledge being poured into his mind. Ancient and powerful spells that he hadn't even seen in Salazar's library. Most of them were Dark spells, but the later ones were mainly Transfiguration and Alchemy based spells. The Elder Wand. He didn't know how the name came to him, but it had just materialized in his thoughts. He wasn't sure what it meant, but decided to go to the one person he knew would be the most knowledgable, Ollivander. Despite being a bit... eccentric, when it came to wandlore, Garrick Ollivander knew what he was talking about.

He had Apparated to Diagon Alley and visited Ollivander. The old wandmaker had been startled as he questioned him, demanding to know why he was impersonating Harry Potter. Harry had been amazed by his ability to notice the blood glamour and had removed his glasses, letting his true form see the light of day for the first time since Gringotts. Ollivander had been shocked by the change and doubted him until Harry made an Oath declaring his identity as Lord Harrison James Potter of House Black, choosing to keep his Slytherin lordship concealed.

Having been satisfied, Harry had shown Ollivander the wand and the wandmaker's eyes had bulged comically. He excitedly informed Harry of the written history about the Deathly Hallows while gently caressing the wand lovingly. He finished by giving a stern warning. "Mr. Potter. The legends say that the Elder Wand is the most powerful in the world. Wandmakers, however, believe its a load of tosh. A wand is simply a focus, Mr. Potter. It cannot grant its master invincibility, but I've always had a theory regarding how it achieved such legendary status. I believe that this wand purposely corrupts the user, and steals their knowledge. It would explain how those who used it could perform feats of magic thought long lost to time. It has gone through many masters, accumulating spells and knowledge along the way, compelling others to seek it out. Many thought it was the wand that gave its master power, but my theory seems correct going with what you claimed to experience. As a Potter, you are a descendant of the third Peverell brother, Ignotus. The last descendant of the Peverell family. Hence, the family wand has acknowledged you as its true master by blood and magic. I am sure that even if you are disarmed, it will never betray you and change loyalties. The bond I see forming between you and the Elder Wand is a powerful one, Mr. Potter. If I'm correct, should you die, the wand will die with you, making it no better than a fancy wooden stick. Regarding the other Hallows, your father James would often prank others with an invisibility cloak claimed to be a family heirloom. Didn't you ever wonder how a simple invisibility cloak could possibly last generations?"

Harry had been dumbfounded. His family had owned and passed down the legendary Cloak of Death. He was the last heir of the Peverell family! It had hit him like a flash. Marvolo Gaunt's ring held the symbol of the Deathly Hallows! This meant that Dumbledore had found the Ressurection Stone, but being the manipulative bugger he was, he probably hid it until "the time was right". Come to think of it, hadn't it been Dumbledore who gave him his cloak during his first Christmas at Hogwarts? His shoulders sank as a frustrated sigh escaped him. Of course, the goat-buggering git knew it was a Hallow. There was no way he hadn't figured it out given he had eleven years to study it. The only question remained as to why Dumbledore gave it back to him. Death's cloak was a pretty powerful and practical object to wield. Surely Dumbledore could have put it to better use than sneaking around Hogwarts past curfew? Maybe there was some compulsion like the one in the wand to give it up to a descendant of the Peverells. That would be a good reason why a selfish bastard like Dumbledore would ever willingly give up such a powerful artifact.

Looking back at Ollivander, he had warned him of Voldemort wanting a new wand as their brother wands posed issues in battle. Ollivander had paled before thanking Harry for the warning. As he was leaving, Harry had asked Ollivander if he could craft a wand specifically for him. With a slightly crazed smile, Ollivander had replied. "It would be a pleasure to craft a custom wand for you, Mr. Potter. I daresay that you will need one sooner or later. One should not advertise the fact that they possess a wand of legend. If you have any materials in mind, you can come back later this week and give them to me. Depending on the volatility, it could take anywhere from one day to a week." Thanking him for his time, Harry was leaving when he heard Ollivander behind him. Looking over his shoulder he saw Ollivander pointing his wand heavenwards and stating: "I, Garrick Gerbold Ollivander, swear on my life, magic, and soul to never reveal any secrets told to me by Lord Harrison James Potter-Black. So I swear, so mote it be." A bright halo had flashed as Magic witnessed and sealed the Oath. Harry had nodded thankfully as Ollivander gently smiled back at him.

Asking Salazar for suggestions on potential wand materials, he had been suggested to use the house elves to render down the basilisk into usable parts. He had called in the Hogwarts elves and nearly fifty of them had responded to "Master Slithery's" call. The elves could sense that he was the Lord Slytherin and held control over the wards of the Chamber and some of Hogwarts. They had been all too excited to get so much work nearing the end of the year and happily went about dismantling the basilisk. Salazar had told him to sell the meat to the goblins, but keep nearly everything else as all of it was useful. The next day, he had taken the fang that had bitten him, a few heartstrings and three vials of venom to Ollivander to potentially use in his wand. Ollivander had been bowled over by the basilisk parts as he exclaimed about their ancient qualities and magical power.

"Mr. Potter, might I inquire how exactly you got these parts. I do believe the ICW made basilisks illegal to breed in the early 1600s. This fang, in particular, seems to share some sort of connection to you and your magic. Even now, I can feel it resonating quite strongly."

"I acknowledge the Oath of Secrecy you have sworn Garrick Gerbold Ollivander. Know that I tell you this in the strictest of confidence. The parts I have brought before you today were from a nearly thousand-year-old basilisk bred by Salazar Slytherin to be his familiar and kept in the Chamber of Secrets. I fought the beast in my second year and slew it with the Sword of Gryffindor. While fighting it, that fang was embedded in my shoulder and poisoned me. As I lay dying, Dumbledore's phoenix, Fawkes, saved my life by crying into the wound and neutralizing the venom."

Ollivander's eyebrows had disappeared into his hairline as Harry mentioned being bitten by the basilisk. Being bred by Slytherin and nearly a thousand years old along with absorbing the magic of the ley lines beneath Hogwarts made these the most powerful components he had ever seen. He had some ideas on how to use the ingredients but was hesitant to go through with it.

"Mr. Potter. The amount of magic this basilisk absorbed has made these components extremely powerful. Not to doubt your magical strength, but wielding a wand made with these parts will be difficult. It will be very temperamental and you will need to try your utmost to tame it. Are you sure you are up for the task? I can promise that I have other materials that will do just fine for a custom wand."

Harry had simply smirked as he spoke. "Again, the basilisk was the familiar of Slytherin himself and I am very confident that I will be able to handle it." Saying so, he deactivated the magic suppression armbands and willed the Slytherin Head of House ring to show itself. Lifting his hand so Ollivander could see the ring in all its glory. The green basilisk shaped like an "S", with emeralds for eyes, poised to strike. Ollivander had gaped like a fish upon seeing the ring. What surprised him even further, was the power that Harry was exuding. It felt like a haze had descended upon the entire store, the sharp tang of ozone implying the significant magical power in the air.

Recovering from his astonishment, Ollivander had beamed with a wild look in his eyes as he smiled. "Well, well. Who would have thought that the Lord Slytherin would ever grace my shop with his presence? Just when I thought you could surprise me no further, you prove me wrong again, Mr. Potter. I would be honored to craft a wand that will be your partner in this upcoming war. What do you plan on doing with your old one?"

Harry had thought about it for a minute before he informed Ollivander about his plan to trick Voldemort. "Voldemort will probably realize the Elder Wand had belonged to Dumbledore. The lure of the Hallows is something a Dark Lord like him would never ignore. I want to transfigure my old wand to look like the Elder Wand and lay it in Dumbledore's grave. If Voldemort ever robs it, being a brother wand, it will work for him, but it will fight him every step of the way. This would make him believe that he has to find and kill the master and will lead him on a wild goose chase. Meanwhile, I will work hard to master the real Elder Wand and bring the fight to him."

After expanding on his plan, Ollivander was pensive. He had told him that transfiguring a wand was not something that he recommended. It could affect the core and destabilize it entirely. To which Harry had countered that the Elder Wand had supplied him with a spell that could do it safely. Harry had found that the wand would speak to him when he needed some specific spell or knowledge. The initial barrage of memories he had received upon bonding with it had been limited. Otherwise, he would have to spend years going through nearly a thousand plus years of magical knowledge. It seemed to be sentient in a very unique way that no other wand he had ever heard of could compare. He had mentioned it to Ollivander who had lit up and told him about how wands indeed had some sentience. He explained how none of the wands he and his fellow wandmakers had crafted had a level of sentience showed by the Elder Wand. That it might have been part of the legend or it had evolved and gained advanced sentience as it went through many powerful masters over the centuries.

"Mr. Potter, I have some ideas about how to craft your wand, but I will need you to accompany me to my storeroom. We need to check if there will be any other core materials." Leading Harry to a workspace filled with jars he had simply instructed him to go through the shelves and pick the one that resonated with his magic the most. As he was walking he felt a pull on his magic guiding him towards a small jar filled with blood and a thick tendon looking muscle. As he picked up the jar, Ollivander had muttered his trademark phrase: "How curious...". Though Harry dreaded the answer, he asked anyway. "I'm sorry Mr. Ollivander, but what's curious?" The gleam in Ollivander's eyes slightly unnerved him as he excitedly explained what Harry was holding. "That jar, Mr. Potter, contains the heartstrings of a particularly vicious and bloodthirsty Hungarian Horntail. The very Horntail you faced during the First Task of the Triwizard Tournament. The dragon's wings had been damaged beyond repair, thus it didn't survive the fall. It is curious, that your new wand will contain two cores. Both from exceedingly powerful and deadly magical beasts you have slain." That hadn't been as bad as Harry was expecting, so he took it as a compliment. Ollivander had given him an idea of how he was going to craft the wand. "I want to experiment a little bit. The Horntail heartstring and Basilisk heartstring can be combined and melted down using the venom. I can then encase the liquid core inside the basilisk fang. It will be the first time I will be creating a wand with a liquid core. All I would require is some of your blood, which can stabilize the solution and permanently bind the wand to you. I can already see that it will the most powerful wand I will ever make in my lifetime." Harry had agreed and donated a vial of blood on the condition that it only be used for crafting his wand.

The morning before the funeral, he had gotten a letter from Ollivander that his wand was ready. He had Disapparated from the Chamber directly into Ollivander's shop as the letter had given him permission. Ollivander had excitedly wandered over to him holding a box in his hands. Setting the box down on the table, he slipped on a pair of dragonhide gloves before opening it and lifting the wand out from within. "I daresay I was right when I predicted that this would be the most powerful wand I've ever crafted. It was very finicky at first, but the number of ingredients at my disposal allowed me to experiment to my heart's content and explore directions I'd never thought of. This is your new wand, 13 and 1/7 inches, completely liquid core made of basilisk and dragon heartstrings melted down in basilisk venom stabilized using your blood, all encased in thousand-year-old basilisk ivory. Unyielding and powerful beyond measure, excellent for Transfiguration and the Dark Arts. I must warn you under no circumstances should you let others touch this wand, Mr. Potter. Your blood was the key stabilizing agent, and anyone who attempts to use or even touch the wand will find the core violently rejecting them. They would be poisoned by the venom within seconds and die an extremely painful death. I have taken the liberty to not sully it with the standard Ministry trackers for an underage wizard as is prescribed by law. I have instead opted to etch some secret Ollivander family runic Glyphs inside the casing that aids and amplifies the flow of magic. It is the only wand not wielded by one of my family that will have these Glyphs, and I would appreciate it if you kept them a secret." Harry had happily accepted and even given a Secrecy Oath to that effect.

Harry had nothing but heartfelt gratitude towards the old wandmaker. He slowly gazed upon the wand, admiring it from every angle. It looked like a work of art. The crown had a small, fanged basilisk motif that extended into the grip section in a meandering swirling pattern reminiscent of a snake. Accompanied by a soft taper towards the pointed tip, it was the most beautiful wand Harry had ever seen. He reached for it and slowly grasped the handle. Immediately, his magic flowed through the wand and it was as if it had become an extension of himself. The wand heated up considerably almost making Harry drop it in shock. Out of the tip sprang two ghostly specters. One being a basilisk and the other being a Hungarian Horntail. Their giant spiritual visages glared at him threateningly and he met them with his own imperious gaze, not backing down in the least. Ollivander was at the side watching closely with bated breath, as this was his first time seeing such a reaction. After several seconds of silence, the two animals bowed their heads towards Harry and dissipated as green and gold sparks shot out of the wand. Ollivander, with his eyes wide, addressed Harry with the utmost respect. "Mr. Potter, I sincerely thank you for allowing me to witness the bonding of you and your wand. Many wandmakers never get to experience such a powerful bonding during their lifetime, but you don't do things by half, do you? Take care of it, Mr. Potter, and it will take care of you." His wand had gone on to do exactly as Ollivander had said all those years ago.

He had written a small but "heartfelt" eulogy that spoke of his admiration of Dumbledore and how he looked up to the man like he would a grandfather. He managed to swallow his contempt for the man and deliver it properly. He had choked a couple times as he cursed himself for writing such emotional crap that he couldn't even say it without choking on the smell of bullshit. The audience had lapped it all up. Here was the saintly Boy-Who-Lived, the Golden Gryffindor, getting emotional over his mentor/surrogate grandfather's death. As planned, he had used a spell provided by the Elder Wand to transfigure his wand into a replica and placed it inside Dumbledore's grave. Nobody was able to see through the facade of sadness that Harry had on, save for one person. Luna Lovegood. The lovable scamp had approached Harry and mentioned that the Blibbering Humdingers told her he felt the exact opposite of what he said. Merlin, how he loved her quirkiness. She had the uncanny gift of knowing things she shouldn't and boy had it thrown Harry for a loop.

He had desperately tried to cover up his feelings but Luna had understood. She had confided in him that the Crumple-Horned Snorkacks had always told her to be wary of Dumbledore. Putting her fantastical animals aside, she cut through to the heart of the matter and requested Harry to tell her his side of the story. She had worn him down sufficiently enough that he relented and informed her of the many illicit dealings and actions of Albus Dumbledore, including those in concert with his supposed best friends. She hadn't shown any reaction to the revelation but only responded that she always knew something was off with the Weasley family. She had known them for much longer than Harry had and decided to not interact with them any more than necessary.

Obviously, with all he had learned, Luna had it right. Had it not been for Dumbledore's manipulations, he probably would never have been friends with a jealous bully and backstabber like Ron Weasley. He hated bullies with a passion and at his core, Ron Weasley was nothing more than that. Hermione, while not a bully, had a condescending, holier-than-thou attitude that he detested. The only reason he hadn't burned those bridges was that he had been routinely Obliviated and potioned to the gills.

Luna had promised to keep everything he said secret and left him to his devices. He had finished stocking the tent's medicine cabinet with more healing potions than the total annual supply for Hogwarts' infirmary. Skele-Gro, Pain-Reliever, Pepperup, Calming Draught and other potions numbered in the hundreds. Alongside healing, he also made potions for specialized purposes. Illegally brewed Veritaserum, Draught of Living Death, Wiggenweld, and Polyjuice potions. He planned to source some hair from around the neighborhood of Privet Drive. If he went to do reconnaissance, it would be safer to have multiple appearances to avoid suspicion. With Dumbledore dead, it was only a matter of time before Voldemort toppled the Ministry. They were already filled with Death Eater spies and sympathizers. The take over would most likely be quick and effective. A puppet would be put in power and no doubt controlled by Lucius goddamn Malfoy.

Harry had an idea of where he might find the locket as he had managed to recognize the elf in the memory. It had been Kreacher, which meant that R.A.B had been Sirius' brother, Regulus Arcturus Black. Apparating to Grimmauld Place, he'd been greeted by an indignant, yelling Kreacher who started to verbally berate him. Harry had enough and ordered him to be silent, before asking him to answer his question about the locket. Kreacher had broken down in tears, hitting his head on the ground as he sobbed about "not completing Master Regulus' final order." Harry had listened and gently promised the elf he knew how to, and would destroy the locket. Kreacher had wailed how the "filthy Dung man" had stolen the locket along with several items from the living room.

Of course Mundungus, the filthy, sticky-fingered lout would steal the exact item he needed to end Voldemort for good. No, his life would be too easy if he had been able to destroy the locket immediately. He ordered Kreacher to allow entry for anyone associated with the Order but also asked that he spy on them. Kreacher had been all too happy to get back at the "nasty, blood-traitors soiling the noble House of Black". While he didn't condone Kreacher's language, Harry also disliked the Order. No matter how good their intentions, their adoption of Dumbledore's wait-and-watch tactics were proving ineffective.

He had stepped onto the train for what would unknowingly be the last time as it chugged along the track, heading back towards London. Remus had mentioned that the Order would still guard Harry, as Dumbledore had instructed them to keep him at Privet Drive until his birthday. That was the day the supposed blood ward would die, signaling that Harry was an adult. Little did they know that the blood ward had already broken long ago, the moment Harry had claimed his lordships. Of course, he hadn't opted to inform them of that little fact and made a show of sullenly agreeing.

Once he was picked up by his relatives and driven home, they had started their usual tirade against him when he had enough. He had hit them all with Body-Binds and a Silencing Charm. They had freaked out, shouting until they realized no sound was coming out of their mouths. Harry had gleefully informed them of his status as an adult and how he was allowed to use magic as much as he pleased. This had got them sweating as they knew their nephew would not spare them now that he had the power. Seeing their terrified expressions, Harry had tamped down his feelings and told them to take a long vacation, as the murderer of his parents was back. He freed them and they had quickly packed up before leaving for the airport. He had watched as they drove away at top speed, abandoning him without a second thought.

He felt his ring heat up a little bit as it informed him that a member of the Black family was nearby. The only one among the Order that could garner such a reaction was Tonks, so he had crossed the street and called out her name where he felt magic in the air. He heard a shuffling noise as he waited for her to respond. She revealed herself and had demanded an explanation as to how he knew she was there. Inviting her inside, he had lifted his hand and flashed the Black Head of House ring. Tonks had gasped as she straightened and curtseyed, greeting him as "Lord Black". The change was unexpected but hardly surprising given her mother's upbringing. As a daughter of House Black, she had grown up taught certain Pureblood behaviors so it made sense for Tonks to be knowledgable about such things. He had asked Tonks for a meeting with her mother Andromeda who he had felt through his ring. After receiving a formal request from her Head of House, Tonks had no option but to comply and take him to her parent's house.

Harry had greeted Andromeda with a smile and introduced himself. Andromeda had been surprised that the Boy-Who-Lived was visiting and had asked to meet her. Harry had nonchalantly flashed the Black Head of House ring and her eyes had widened as she was caught off guard. Andromeda hadn't been very close to Sirius and was notified of his passing through Tonks. Most of the Black family hadn't known, but Arcturus had not officially disowned Sirius. It was why he was technically Lord Black in the eyes of the family magic and the goblins. Through his will, Narcissa, Draco and any of his future children had been officially disinherited from the House of Black, barring him from stealing the lordship through any legal means.

Andromeda had been disowned because she had brought dishonor to the family by eloping with her Muggleborn husband instead of marrying Lucius Malfoy. It was the reason why Narcissa had been contracted to marry him and how the current Malfoy fortune had gotten started. The dowry and restitution for breach of contract had been extravagant. House Black could not have been seen being stingy when one of theirs had broken the contract. It was the main reason behind the Malfoys suddenly being catapulted to the top five richest British wizarding families. Andromeda had never lived down the shame she had brought to House Black, but had nonetheless accepted her fate, hoping she might one day be forgiven.

Harry had chosen the start of the war to bring her into the fold, as she was going to be targeted as a daughter of House Black and known blood-traitor. He had offered to rescind her disownment and welcome her and her daughter back into House Black if she did him a couple of favors. As a qualified Healer, she would be a valuable asset to the Order, as Pomphrey had limited knowledge as a mediwitch. She was to offer her services to the Order of the Phoenix, but also spy on them along with her daughter and relay important intelligence to Harry.

Andromeda had been hesitant, but Tonks had encouraged her to take the deal and she had agreed. Harry had asked that she keep a secret portkey on her at all times, for protection and if he required her services. Harry had no illusions that he would come out of the war in one piece. He was going to get hurt whether he liked it or not. It was simply how war worked. Having a personal Healer that could be at his side in seconds was something that gave him more confidence. He could take riskier tactical decisions and be confident of not dying due to his half-shod medical knowledge. So long as he didn't die immediately, which he didn't plan on doing, Andromeda would be a valuable spy and medic in his camp.

He had given Tonks a portkey too so that she could remain safe. Merlin knows the Aurors were going to be useless in the fight. The Order, even with their lack of proactive engagement would be more effective in the long run. This would also mean that members would be in more danger as they would be engaging Voldemort's forces more often. Thinking through the situation, he had been escorted home by Tonks and had made three dozen emergency portkeys capable of breaking through Anti-Portkey wards. Salazar had shown him a method of overloading the magic in a portkey to brute force its way through any wards. So long as the wards weren't cast by the Dark Bastard himself, Harry was confident his portkeys would be able to bust through. It would be a rough journey for the individual, but they would at least have a higher chance of survival.

They had exchanged notes, with him showing her some Dark curses she could use in a fight and her teaching him some handy Auror spells and stealth techniques. He secured a Secrecy Oath from her before informing her about Voldemort's Horcruxes and their function. He told her that Dumbledore had given him the information and wanted him to seek them out and destroy them. He indicated that it was the only way Voldemort would die. Once they destroyed all his Horcruxes, he would be mortal and could never come back again. Tonks had wanted to share this information with the Order, but Harry forbade her from doing so, even with Secrecy Oaths. If even one person slipped up or was spied upon, they would be in trouble. She had promised to keep quiet and went on her way to wait for the next Order guard to relieve her. Little had he known back then, how prophetic his words had been.

Tonks had come back barely a day later, saying that the Order had noticed he was alone in the house and was debating bringing him in early as his Muggle relatives had disappeared. Harry had asked for information about Mundungus and Tonks had stated that he had gone to ground and none of the Order could find him. He had been incommunicado for almost a week and Moody was starting to get paranoid that he had ratted them out, so they were going to be moving out of Grimmauld Place. McGonagall had offered Hogwarts as their new headquarters and they would be moving into it soon. Harry had convinced her to come with him on a mission to Lestrange Manor, stating that Voldemort had entrusted Bellatrix with one of his Horcruxes.

They had Disapparated from Privet Drive and set about conducting reconnaissance. It had taken them a good two hours to crack the wards and enter the Manor. They had only found a dusty, empty house that looked like it hadn't been lived in for years. It made sense as both Bellatrix and her husband had been enjoying an extended stay at the seaside resort of Azkaban for the better part of fourteen years. They were probably close by to Voldemort, wherever he was staying. After looking around for an hour, they had retreated and Apparated to several random locations all around England before taking a portkey to Grimmauld Place and then Disapparating to Privet Drive. Constant vigilance never hurt.

Tonks had been relieved by Arthur Weasley who had briefly stepped in to check up on Harry. Tonks had told him that she wasn't due for a shift until two days later. As he waited for her, Harry studied Wards to improve his fledgling Cursebreaking and Warding skills. If Lestrange Manor hadn't been abandoned, he had no doubt they would have been discovered during the takedown of the wards. It had taken too long and they needed to be more efficient as it wasn't possible to force their way through every ward.

Tonks had knocked on his door two days later and they had conferred on the Order's next move. They had finally gotten tired of letting him languish in an empty house and had apparently sent her to ask about his relatives. Harry had told her that he had sent them on an extended vacation that didn't involve coming back until he had already left for good. They had studied together and traded more tips before Tonks had left. He was greeted by Kingsley Shacklebolt three days later, and Harry was transported to Grimmauld Place. There he spent the next two months interacting with members of the Order as they rushed around reacting to Death Eater attacks.

He had taken the time to visit the library and found that several books were missing. Kreacher had told him that the "nasty mudblood and blood traitors had thrown them into a trunk and taken them." He asked Kreacher whether it was possible to retrieve them and the elf had gleefully gone and retrieved the trunk. Reviewing some of the tomes inside, Harry realized why they had been locked up, as they had nasty curses on them. Others only reinforced his suspicions against Hermione and the Weasleys as there were books on the Wizengamot, the Sacred 28 and the history of wizarding politics.

The Potter family had an entire section during the Wizarding World War, which his grandfather, Charlus Potter, had fought in. His grandfather had been an accomplished statesman, uniting Light and Neutral families into a Great Alliance. This Alliance consisted of families he had been in contact with at Hogwarts. Bones, Abbott, Longbottom, Greengrass, Davis, and Macmillan. He would have no doubt interacted with all the children of these families had he grown up with his parents. The Great Alliance had passed many laws that progressed Wizarding Britain, but all of their work was destroyed when Voldemort attacked and killed his grandparents. With their figurehead murdered, the Alliance splintered, allowing the Dark faction to gain influence in the Wizengamot. His father hadn't even graduated Hogwarts when he had lost his parents to Voldemort. Going from Sirius and Remus' description of how his parents got together, it looked like James Potter had been forced to mature early. His maturation had attracted Lily Evans, who had always thought him childish. Interacting every day as Head Girl and Boy, their relationship had blossomed, resulting in their marriage and subsequently, him.

After a month, he had been looking for some books on advanced Dark Arts spells and curses one day, when he was interrupted by a portrait. "Hello again, child. What do you seek?" Harry had mentioned Advanced Dark Arts when the portrait had smirked. "Didn't think we'd keep the books unprotected, did you? Those books can only be accessed by the Lord or Heir Black. I take it you have the qualifications? If so, present them to me and I'll show you where they are." Harry had cast a Locking Charm and Repelling Ward at the door before sweeping the room for any monitoring spells. Satisfied, Harry flashed the Black Head of House ring at the portrait and it had swung out, revealing several books packed into the hidden space. He selected a couple and the portrait swung back into place. "It's good to see that you take secrecy seriously. Knowledge is a powerful thing. Those books you've taken, in the wrong hands, can inflict significant devastation. I must say, you do not look like a Black, boy. What is your name? How exactly did you become Lord Black?"

"It's a pleasure to meet you. My name is Harrison James Potter-Black. I gained the lordship through Sirius Orion Black as he was my godfather and he designated me as his Heir." Arcturus had been surprised but pleased. "It is nice to meet you too, Harrison. My name is Arcturus Sirius Black III, but you may call me Uncle Arcturus. You said Potter, correct? What is your relation to Charlus Potter?"

"He was my grandfather, sir. Though he was killed before I was able to meet him. He was attacked and killed with my grandmother in Potter Manor by the Dark Lord Voldemort." Arcturus had a solemn look on his face when he heard of his friends passing. "That is truly a pity. I'm sure he would have loved to meet you, Harrison. You seem like a fine young man if a little scrawny." Harry had looked around again before removing his glasses, showing the portrait his true form. With proper nutrition courtesy of the house elves and intense dueling practice, his body had filled out completely, leaving him with a slim but muscled frame. Arcturus had a look of nostalgia on his face as he spoke. "Oh my. You look just like my Sirius did at your age, though I can also see some of James in you. He must have blood adopted you, seeing as Dorea's lineage wouldn't have been enough for you to become Lord Black. How is he, by the way? I haven't talked to him in a while."

Harry's smile had dimmed considerably. Almost a year and a half had passed since the Ministry incident, yet it still hurt him to even think about it. His voice had shaken slightly as he told Arcturus of Sirius' death in the Department of Mysteries. Arcturus had taken it hard, seeing as Sirius had been his only living grandson. They had talked about the situation with the Black family, with Bellatrix and Narcissa joining the Dark Lord while Andromeda aided the Light. He could see the frustration on Arcturus' face as he detailed the events of the war up until the present.

"May Merlin damn them to Hell. My sniveling coward of a son allowed his banshee wife, Walburga to corrupt an entire generation of Blacks. I cannot believe that the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black is on the verge of extinction in just two generations. Harrison, please promise me you will have children as soon as possible. The House of Black must not be allowed to go extinct. We must not go quietly into the night!" His earnest plea had touched Harry. He could hear the desperation in his voice as he asked him to carry on the family only problem was, that the Prophecy necessitated that he confront Voldemort until one of them died. He hoped that it wouldn't be him, but in this damned war, he couldn't really make any promises that he would come out alive. He had explained the situation to Arcturus who had been devastated. The last Lord Black and he might not even live past his teens. All because some drunk had pitted him against one of the worst Dark Lords in recent history.

After collecting himself, Arcturus' voice adopted a stern tone. "Listen well, Harrison. You will win this war because you will fight harder and smarter than your enemy. You will win this war by taking a page out of Charlus' book and becoming your enemy's worst nightmare. Despite what others think about the Potters, there is a hidden history, known only to those in the family. Charlus shared a bit of it with me during the war. The Potters were descendants of the Peverells, the ones from the Tale of the Three Brothers." Harry had interrupted him and told him of the Hallows. "Yes Uncle Arcturus, I know about the Peverells. In fact, I have the wand and the cloak. The stone has been hidden by Albus Dumbledore and I'll most likely be able to retrieve it sooner or later." Arcturus had been startled by the revelation, but he scolded Harry before continuing with his speech.

"As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted... The Peverells were a clan of War-Mages. Most modern wizards have no idea what a War-Mage even is anymore and often confuse the term with Battle-Mage. They use them interchangeably when the truth is those two titles couldn't be any more different. A Battle-Mage is the umbrella term an Auror or Hit-Wizard would fall under. They are defenders of the realm who fight mainly to protect their kings, or in our case, the British Ministry of Magic. War-Mages were the final line of defense for any kingdom. They were ruthless butchers who used magic in all its forms. Light, Dark, Elemental, Necromantic and everything in between. They sought one thing, and one thing only: the complete and utter destruction of the enemy. They utilized the Blackest of Arts to slaughter their adversaries as efficiently as possible, putting the fear of death and eternal damnation into their hearts. The Peverells' specialties were Battle-Transfiguration, and the Necromantic Arts. The Deathly Hallows, as they are referred to, were artifacts that embodied the Necromantic aspects of their original family magic. Unlike most other family magic, the Peverell's was parasitical in nature, conquering and absorbing the family magic of their numerous foes. The whole "Master of Death" legend is Hippogriff shit, but the unification of the artifacts allows access to the Peverell family grimoire. That grimoire is fabled to hold some of the most powerful and ancient spells in known history, along with augmentation rituals that could make one close to a deity in power. It was also rumored that the Peverells fought alongside Morgana Le Fay herself in defense of the realm. She supposedly gifted some of her most powerful rituals and spells to them as a reward for their loyalty to the Crown. Charlus told me that it was locked away under several layers of deadly Blood Wards deep inside Gringotts, waiting for a qualified descendant to unseal the vault. Not a single Potter for the last several hundred years has met the requirements to unseal it. I have a feeling that you will be the one."

It was a lot of information to take in. The Deathly Hallows legend was the only thing he knew about the Peverell family. He hadn't expected there to be an even deeper history. From the way Arcturus spoke of it, especially the speculation about Morgana Le Fay's personal contribution, Harry knew it had to be powerful. Maybe this was the so-called "power he knows not"? The only reason Arcturus even knew was that the last Lord Potter had told him. Dumbledore had realized the family connection, but his interest had only pertained to the Hallows. Nobody else seemed to know about the Peverells being War-Mages. Harry thought about the vault. The Peverell family grimoire was something he had to at least try to obtain. Even if he wasn't qualified, he couldn't give up on a potential source of power that he could use in the war.

He talked with Arcturus every single day from thereon, learning all about the grandparents he never got to meet. His grandmother, Dorea Potter nee Black, had been a Healer at St. Mungo's hospital. She had specialized in countering Dark Curses and had volunteered as a nurse for the ICW Hit-Wizard contingent that had assaulted France in concert with Allied Forces. His grandparents had met when Charlus had saved Arcturus' life by taking a curse meant for him. They had met in the field hospital where Dorea had treated Charlus. Arcturus claimed it was love at first sight. Charlus spent the rest of the war courting Dorea and had eventually succeeded near the end. They had gotten married soon after Charlus was released by the ICW from his Hit-Wizard duties. It had been a small ceremony as most of the extended Black family had not approved of their match. The only reason they had been civil was due to Arcturus having taken over as Lord Black and giving the couple his blessing. Harry's father, James, had been born rather late in their lives when they suspected they might not be able to have any children. It was why he was excessively spoiled, which resulted in his prattish attitude that Snape often referenced.

He learned as much as he could about the Dark Arts and Arcturus gave him access to the Black family grimoire. The grimoire had detailed some of the most horrendous curses that Harry had ever seen, but he had steeled himself and read on. He found numerous rituals he could use to improve his magical power without straying into Dark territory. He learned intricate wards that were far superior to the standard ones he had planned on using. All in all, Harry spent the rest of his time educating himself as best as he could in preparation for the Hunt. He knew that it was only a matter of time before Voldemort made his move against the Ministry, so he practiced till he nearly collapsed, every single day.

Arcturus had hated how hard he pushed himself, denouncing the incompetence of the Ministry for forcing a teenager to fight a Dark Lord. The way Harry pushed himself to exhaustion was taking a toll on him, and Arcturus had noticed it during their talks. He had forbidden Harry from the library for two days, demanding that he take a break. Harry had argued vehemently but found Arcturus to be too stubborn. So he relented and took a small break, immediately feeling more at ease and carefree. He wished he could continue his days just learning about the wonders of magic. He didn't want to fight and kill others, having a normally peaceful nature. Sadly, Fate had seen to it that he lead a life of danger and adventure, not one of peace.

A couple of days before his birthday, the Weasleys invited him over to the Burrow to celebrate his birthday. Bill Weasley and Fleur Delacour's wedding was also taking place the day after, so they would all celebrate together. Harry had been on guard the moment he received the invitation. With Ron, Molly and Ginny's betrayal, he wasn't sure whether he trusted anyone of them. He had told Arcturus about Dumbledore's schemes and Arcturus had erupted into an apoplectic tirade against the man. Harry had never heard a more colorful use of English swear words other than the one time with Salazar.

Thinking of Salazar made him hurt. He had been forced by him to collapse the walls around all the entrances to the chamber. Salazar had gifted him the library and smiled, wishing Harry luck. It had been the hardest thing he had done. Salazar had become a father figure to him in the time they had known each other. Harry felt like he was abandoning him, but it had to be done to prevent Voldemort from infiltrating Hogwarts through the Chamber. Hence, everything of value had been removed and transported to multiple secure safe houses that Harry had prepared all over England during the last year. With tears in his eyes, Harry had collapsed the walls surrounding the Chamber, entombing Salazar within forever. Salazar had wanted Harry to burn his portrait, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He had promised to reactivate him once he had defeated Voldemort for good.

He was jolted out of the memory by Arcturus asking whether he was alright. Tears were running down his face unbidden. He had swiped at his eyes before retreating behind his Occlumency barriers, donning an emotionless mask. He had refused to answer any questions, so Arcturus had chosen to leave it alone. He had recommended that Harry take multiple antidotes with him. He also suggested giving Fleur some antidotes, to make sure she was marrying Bill out of her own free will. Harry had agreed immediately. If they were willing to potion him into loving Ginny, then who was to say that they hadn't done it to Fleur. He held a soft spot for the French champion as she had taught him helpful Charms and basic Enchanting during the tournament. She had no reason to help her competition, but she was an honorable witch. Even if it incurred her hatred, he owed her that much at least.

So Harry had written his acceptance and sent Hedwig to deliver his reply to the Burrow. He spent the next two days reinforcing his Occlumency barriers in preparation for his meeting with the traitors. It was imperative that he not give anything away. He had also packed his secret trunk full of antidotes and also brought along his go-bag. He had no idea when the time would come for him to run, but he had a gut feeling it was soon. After many years of life and death experiences, his gut had become quite accurate. He would have to figure out how to keep the traitors unaware of his knowledge of their actions. The betrayal had hurt him badly and he still didn't know if he was capable of not cursing them painfully the moment he saw them. Merlin knows he was going to have to be in total control when the time came.

Two uneventful days passed. The Order had not reacted to much for the last week leading towards August, which pointed towards something big on the horizon. Nobody was sure what exactly was going to happen, but they knew it wouldn't be good. Harry had exited his room near the crack of dawn. They were leaving soon, so he checked all his supplies for the third time in an hour. He had said his goodbyes to Arcturus, who gave him a final piece of advice. "When you fight in this war, keep in mind the famous words of the Muggle American General George S. Patton. 'May God have mercy for my enemies because I won't.' Your enemies are animals who torture the innocent for fun, Harrison. Treat them accordingly, and show no quarter." Nodding stoically, Harry had left Grimmauld Place for The Burrow.

As he exited the Floo, the first test he faced was the smothering hug of Molly Weasley. The woman who was trying to steal his inheritance by forcing her daughter on him. It had taken almost all he had to not strangle her then and there. He had put on a big smile and reciprocated the hug. She felt something off in his mood, but he explained it away as having been stuck at Grimmauld Place. She nodded sympathetically before excitedly told him that Hermione and Ron were waiting for him upstairs. It was difficult keeping up the image of a scrawny, naive and impetuous boy starved of friendship. Doubly so after gaining some of the knowledge from the Black family grimoire. It was safe to say that he was no longer innocent to the Darker aspects of magic and the brutality that lied therein. He felt like he had aged years by exposing himself to and practicing some of those spells, but he needed every advantage he could get.

Hermione had greeted him with her traditional tight hug, while Ron had clapped him on the back several times, jovially greeting him. They both wished him a happy birthday and proceeded to catch up on how things were. Both of them were excited to see Harry again and were talking about the wedding. Hermione had talked about how beautiful Fleur's dress was as Ron extolled how lucky his brother was to be marrying a Veela. His pathetic, superficial attraction towards Fleur and jealousy towards his older brother started to show. Harry had asked them where Fleur was as he wanted to meet her and congratulate her. They were interrupted by Ginny, who had sidled up next to Harry in a provocative pair of short shorts and crop top. For all of Molly's supposed conservatism, she was very open with how her daughter dressed. Especially when she was tasked with seducing a supposedly naive schmuck like him.

He had acted nervous and shy, avoiding contact with Ginny and giving her the occasional glances. As most gold diggers, Ginny was indeed a beautiful young woman. What annoyed Harry was how his friends and everybody in Gryffindor predicted they would get together. Something about their romance being exactly like that of his parents. Harry couldn't deny that he was slightly grossed out by the thought. He had never met his parents, other than the brief interaction during the duel with Voldemort. He didn't have some sort of mother complex, and would not marry a girl just because she had some passive resemblance to his mother. It was pretty creepy of them to think that, but he didn't bother correcting them. He had to keep up appearances, after all.

Excusing himself from the group, he had surreptitiously placed a listening charm beneath the bed they had been lounging on. Closing the door, he went into the bathroom down the hall and listened in on their conversation.

"Oh dear Merlin, he's still such a pansy. One would think he would be all over me with all the hints I've been throwing in his face. I can't believe I have to seduce that wimp. Now, Dean. He was a real man. We had so much fun together. Hermione, are you sure Harry's not gay?"

"Ginny, your approach is all wrong. He doesn't have any friends other than us and most of them are guys. His total experience with girls is two horrible dates. If you push too hard, he'll simply clam up and not do anything. You need to take it slow and steady. By the end, he'll be dead anyway and the will can't be fought. Dumbledore told us we needed to accompany him for the Hunt and play our role. His death doesn't affect the plan. I don't like it either, but I've put too much effort to back out now."

Ron had also decided to pile onto the Harry bashing and inserted his two Knuts into the conversation. "Don't worry about him, GinGin. I'll make sure he gets his doses properly and he'll love you so much you won't even have to sleep with him. I wouldn't put you through such a horrible experience. If he's this pathetic at life, imagine how sorry he'll be in the sack. Merlin knows why Voldemort chose him, the bloody git, thinking he's so special just because he didn't kick it with his parents."

He shut off the charm as he trembled in rage. The vitriol in Ron's voice had come through loud and clear. These two-faced jackals that called themselves his friends were going to pay. Their deaths would be as painful as he could arrange it. It didn't matter to him anymore. This family had turned their backs on him, so he had no problem being heartless. His immediate concern was Fleur. The poor girl had no idea what she was getting herself into and needed to be warned. He flushed and turned on the faucet as he planned how he was going to tell her. If they had potioned her, she wasn't going to believe him, especially if it was Amortentia in her system. Sighing, he rubbed his eyes as he made his decision. It had to be the hard way. He could deal with the fallout later. Fleur's wellbeing was his number one priority.

He exited the bathroom and located Fleur's room thanks to the helpful sign on the door. He knocked and waited for her reply. He heard someone coming up to the door. "Who is it?" Her lovely, musical voice had lost its French accent. "It's Harry, Fleur. I just wanted to come in catch up. I can't believe you're getting married to my best mate's brother." The door had swung open and he had been tackled by the blonde as she wrapped him in a warm hug. "Harry! When did you arrive? Come in! Come in! It's been so long since we saw each other!" Entering the room, he saw the disarray as makeup, magazines, and clothing were strewn around. Fleur blushed a little as she spoke. "Please excuse the mess. There are so many preparations going on for tomorrow." Harry had waved away her apology with an easy smile. "No need to apologize. It's your big day tomorrow. Speaking of which, how exactly did you meet Bill? Did he have some work in France?"

Fleur's eyes had slightly glazed over at the mention of Bill, which sent alarm bells ringing in Harry's head. "I actually switched my focus to Cursebreaking during my final year and signed up to work at Gringotts London. I wanted to improve my English and I met Bill as he was working underneath my direct supervisor. I mentioned my interest in Cursebreaking and we went for coffee a couple of times, talking about how I can transfer onto one of the teams. He volunteered to help me with my English. He was so handsome, and such a gentleman. I couldn't help but fall in love with him. When he proposed, it was so magical Harry. I had never been happier. It took all my self-control to not give him my first time then and there. We Veela hold it sacred and only give it to our chosen mate. It usually takes a long time for a Veela to find their mate, but that wasn't the case for me. I'm so lucky that I met Bill."

Harry had heard enough, as his wand snapped into his hand. He sent a nonverbal Body Bind directly at Fleur. She had no chance to react as her arms snapped together and she fell back down on the bed. Her eyes cleared up as they widened in panic. Harry turned around and sent a powerful, modified Locking Charm at the door before turning back to Fleur. "I'm so sorry it has to be this way, Fleur. I know I'm going about this the wrong way, but you'll most likely thank me later. If you don't forgive me ever again, know that I'll understand." With that said, he removed the trunk from his neck and enlarged it to regular size. Removing two vials, he sat down next to the petrified Fleur and uncorked one of them. "If I'm right, which I'm pretty sure I am, you're going to be very angry by the time I finish. I need you to stay calm and not kill me. Can you do that for me?" It didn't seem to register as Fleur looked like she was still panicking.

Sighing, Harry rolled up her right sleeve and unstrapped her wrist holster. "I'll be keeping this so you don't get any ideas. I swear to you that I am not trying to harm you, Fleur. I owe you for teaching me and I'm trying to repay that debt. Please don't make this harder than it has to be." He sat her up and coaxed the first antidote down her throat. Tossing the empty vial on the bed, he uncorked the second vial and poured it down her throat. Picking up the empty vials, he stored them in his pocket, took a couple of steps back, and cast the counterspell. Feathers erupted across Fleur's arm, talons grew from her fingers and her face took on avian features. She rushed towards Harry with a speed he didn't think possible and her talons were on his throat, ready to rip it to shreds.

For all his nervousness, Harry made no effort to fight back, simply staring into her eyes. He saw her anger manifest in the form of a twisting fireball in her other hand. Seconds passed as they continued their staring contest. Suddenly, Fleur's features reverted to normal as she rushed out the door to the bathroom. Harry heard her vomiting as the Amortentia and Loyalty Potion was flushed out of her system. He had assumed that the Weasleys would use a Loyalty Potion along with the Amortentia, much like they did with him. Hence, he gave Fleur the antidotes to those potions specifically. With those countered, he could convince her to go through complete Flushing and hopefully not die at the hands of a pissed off Veela.

Harry sat down on the bed and waited patiently. His feelings were mixed on the matter. He had strongly suspected the answer, but it still hurt to see his doubts confirmed. Now he was worrying whether Mr. Weasley was being potioned too. Was the whole family complicit? Or was it just Mrs. Weasley and her two youngest? Did Bill know about the potions? The questions kept swimming in his head and he hadn't noticed Fleur enter the room. He was snapped out of his thoughts as the deadbolt was slammed into place. He looked up and his eyes met Fleur. He saw her anger and frustration as she trembled slightly. He had broken the silence. "I sincerely apologize for that, Fleur. If there was any other way..." He was stopped by her lifting her hand.

She gestured for Harry to return her wand, and he did, fully expecting to get hexed badly. She retrieved her wand from the holster and sent a Locking charm and cast a Silencing Ward at the door. Taking several deep breaths, she slowly spoke, her voice still hoarse from vomiting. "I, Fleur Isabelle Delacour, do hereby acknowledge my Veela debt of purity to Harry James Potter. So I swear, so mote it be." A halo of magic had surrounded her as she spoke and flashed before disappearing. She looked at him expectantly, but Harry had no idea what she was waiting for. Suddenly, his Black ring warmed up as words came into his mind and tumbled out of his mouth. "I Lord Harrison James Potter-Black do hereby acknowledge the Veela debt of purity owed to me by Fleur Isabelle Delacour." Similar to Fleur, the magic formed a halo around him, but this time, it took the form of a rope that wrapped around Fleur's neck and his right hand. Harry ended the acknowledgment with the words: "So mote it be." The rope of magic dissipated with another flash as a cold breeze gusted through the room.

A long silence had followed before Harry worked up the nerve to break it. "What exactly is a Veela debt of purity, Fleur? What did I just acknowledge? You know you don't owe me anything. You're my friend." Fleur had given him a small, but sad smile as she started to explain. "As I mentioned in our conversation, one's virginity is held sacred and inviolable in Veela culture. The search and bonding process with a mate is important for our health and magic. If a Veela's purity is stolen through dishonest or forceful means, it negatively affects their health and wellbeing. At best, I could have slowly lost my magic and at worst, I would die. No matter how much I didn't like your methods, your actions restored my mind, thereby saving myself and my purity. This is the strongest and harshest life debt among Veela. With the one I acknowledged owing you, you could demand anything you wish of me. My hand in marriage, my purity, my loyalty. I won't be negatively affected if I offer them to you because as of right now, they are yours. Whatever you desire, and I will obey unconditionally. This is your reward for saving my life and magic."

Harry had reeled as she listed how much power he now held over her. "Fleur, this isn't right. I should not have any sort of power over you. You're my friend. I could never take away your free will like that. How can I release you from the debt?" Fleur had looked at him appraisingly as laughed as she answered. "I know exactly what kind of man you are, Harry. It is why I did not hesitate to acknowledge such an important debt and inform you of it. I knew you would never abuse it. My mother, Appoline Delacour, is an Elder in the French Veela Enclave. If I didn't acknowledge my debt after you saved me, I would bring disgrace upon myself and my family. Please, Harry. Know that I owe you my magic and life, so don't hesitate to call in my debt." Despite feeling uncomfortable, he nodded and the conversation lulled into silence again.

This time, Fleur was the one to break it. "I can't believe that I was being potioned all this time. Veela are taught about how the Purebloods of England feel about us. Here, we have no real rights, as they consider us half-breeds. Even if I married Bill, there was no way I could officially be his wife. The current laws would relegate my status to that of a Concubine of House Weasley. At that point, everyone in the family would rank higher than me socially and would be able to give me commands. I almost married into a family of monsters." Tears flooded her eyes as her shoulders shook. Hearing her sniffling, Harry had panicked. He hadn't had much experience with women, and her crying had completely thrown him off balance. He had awkwardly walked over and hugged her, stroking her back soothingly in a futile attempt to calm her down.

"Shhh. There, there. You don't have to worry about the Weasley's anymore. If anyone in England ever dares to abuse you because of your heritage, know that I will not stand for it." Separating from her, he kept her at shoulder's length. Looking deeply into her slightly puffy, red eyes, he cupped her face in his hands and felt his ring warm up as he spoke. "Fleur Isabelle Delacour, as Lord Harrison James Potter of Black, I formally extend an offer of Sanctuary to you. Should you accept this, you shall be given the protections and status befitting a Friend of House Black. Do you willingly accept the Sanctuary I offer you?" Fleur's eyes flickered as they observed his face, most likely searching for signs of deceit or hidden motives. Finding none, her voice hitched as she replied. "I, Fleur Isabelle Delacour, accept the offer of Sanctuary from Lord Black and extend my gratitude for his aid." Harry extended his left hand as a copy of the Black Head of House Ring formed in his palm. He offered the ring to Fleur. She accepted it and slipped it onto her left ring finger, the ring resizing to fit her. Seeing the placement, Harry wanted to comment on her choice when something changed. Harry could suddenly feel a connection to Fleur that informed him of the status of her health and emotional wellbeing. He could feel a mixture of sadness and joy at the moment. She threw her hands around Harry and he tightly hugged her back as the room was filled with the sounds of her stifled sobbing.

After managing to calm down, she had asked him an important question. "What do we do now? I will never marry Bill and I never want anything to do with the Weasleys ever again." Harry had cautiously asked her if she could keep his secrets. She had replied that the Veela debt was much like an Oath of Loyalty or Vassal Oath. Whatever secrets he told her would be kept unconditionally. He removed his glasses and showed her his true form. She had been startled at the difference between the old and new Harry. He explained all about how he hid in the Chamber during the tournament and met his ancestor, Salazar Slytherin. He briefly mentioned how he improved himself through various rituals and the day he heard the details of the conspiracy against him. Fleur had been aghast at the betrayal that Harry had faced. She had thought she had it bad with Bill but finding out his entire life was manipulated by the deceased Albus Dumbledore, including his friendship with Ron and Hermione was on a different level altogether. She had asked him how he had managed to not curse them to within an inch of their lives for their actions and Harry had joked that it might eventually come to that.

He told her about Voldemort's Horcruxes and she had reacted strongly to it. "Merde! Horcruxes are some of the vilest pieces of magic ever created. If the Dark Lord had made so many, I wonder how he's still sane. Just one causes permanent damage to the mind and soul, never mind seven. Cursebreakers often encounter phylacteries and Horcruxes in Egyptian tombs. Egyptian royalty and nobles were often obsessed with cheating death. I know for a fact that there is a Gringotts ritual that exorcises the souls from any soul containers. Bill mentioned it once in passing. Maybe they could help you find the one given to Lestrange? After all, there aren't many places in England safer than a Gringotts vault."

Harry had cursed himself for not even thinking about Bellatrix possibly storing it at Gringotts. He would have to contact Ragnok about securing the Horcrux and negotiate the sale of the basilisk meat. "Okay, we can't give away that we know about the potions. We have to go out there and act like everything is completely fine and we didn't have our lives turned upside down. It's still very early in the morning, so if you choose, we can have you take a Flushing Potion that will completely wipe out any traces of potions in you. I doubt that those two were the only ones they dosed you with. We can disguise it as pre-wedding jitters. It will give you an excuse to not eat any food so you should be safe. Depending on how long they've been feeding them to you, this could take a couple of hours and it will be painful. I'll respect whatever choice you make."

Fleur had resolutely demanded the Flushing Potion and Harry had provided her with one. She had taken it immediately and rushed back to the bathroom. Harry had expected breakfast to be served soon, so he drank his antidotes, secured his trunk and left, finding his way back to Ron's room. He and Hermione had questioned him on where he had been for the last half hour and he had told them how he had caught up with Fleur. With a big smile on his face, he had mentioned how excited she was to tie the knot with Bill tomorrow. This had quelled their suspicions and they started talking about Hogwarts subjects, the Order, Voldemort's plans and various other topics. Ginny had started to get on his nerves as she constantly interrogated him about inane things like his favorite beverage, food and what he was going to wear for the wedding. Molly had called them down for breakfast and they had shuffled out of the room and enjoyed a hearty breakfast.

After breakfast, they were going to start helping with the wedding preparations when a knock had come from the door. Standing on the porch was the Minister for Magic himself, Rufus Scrimgeour. He had come on behalf of the Ministry to execute the will of Albus Dumbledore. The Ministry had held on to the items for as long as possible, inspecting them for any Dark magic. He had taken Harry, Hermione, and Ron into a separate room and read out the bequeathments. Hermione had been left Dumbledore's copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard, Ron had gotten a Deluminator, and Harry had been given the very first Snitch he had caught. Scrimgeour had been suspicious that Dumbledore was secretly giving them powerful magical weapons or artifacts and had interrogated them on each item. All three had denied any allegations of subterfuge and Scrimgeour had left in a snit, having been unsuccessful in his endeavor.

The three had briefly discussed what the items signified, with Harry pretending to be completely clueless as to why Dumbledore would leave him a Snitch. Hermione had launched into her theory as he and Ron had simply nodded along. Internally, he was rolling his eyes. What a difficult riddle Dumbledore had given him. The Resurrection Stone was most likely locked inside the Snitch and would only open under specific circumstances. It would have to be something related to the Snitch itself and a specific trigger action that was memorable. Thanks to his Occlumency, the answer came to him quickly. He had specified the first Snitch he had caught because it had been different from all his other games. He had nearly swallowed it as he fell off his broom, so he would need to put it in contact with his mouth.

He made a show of lightly sniffling and excusing himself. They had sent him understanding looks as they told him to take his time. He went into Ron's room and quickly cast Locking and Silencing Charms at the door. He brought the Snitch up to his mouth and brush his lips against the cold metal surface. As his lips touched the golden ball, an inscription glowed in the center band of the Snitch. The words "I open at the close" glowed brightly. "Really, Dumbledore? A riddle even a first-year Ravenclaw could solve? How stupid did you think I was? Well, you probably thought I was still being fed Wit Dulling Potion. So I can't really blame you, can I? Okay, let's try opening this. Death, deadly, deathly, die, dying, the next great adventure." All his attempts were met with failure and he had contemplated why his answers weren't working. Maybe it had been too impersonal? What exactly was Dumbeldore's end goal? Half the Potter fortune wasn't the answer. Even permanently vanquishing Voldemort wasn't his end goal. 'What were his words again? "Harry had to die?" No, it has to do with me dying, but he gave it to me and not them, so only I can open it. No. All his actions were leading me to martyrdom at the hands of Voldemort. I was going to die, no matter what... That's it!' Picking up the Snitch, he whispered the phrase: "I am going to die."

Upon hearing his words, the snitch opened up, revealing the Resurrection Stone within. He didn't trust Dumbledore to not play tricks from beyond the grave, so he started casting every single detection spell he knew. They revealed a hidden set of enchantments on the stone. The runic matrix was too complex for Harry to understand, but luckily he had a skilled Enchantress nearby that he could consult. He had heard Fleur leave the bathroom after Scrimgeour had left and had known that she would be feeling better by now. He had gone to her room and knocked on the door, rushing inside as she opened it. "Fleur, I got this stone from Dumbledore, but after casting detection spells on it, I found out it was enchanted. The problem is, I don't know what exactly it's meant to do. Could you please give it a look?" Fleur had gladly agreed and taken the ring for inspection. Her face had gone through a flurry of expressions. Disbelief, wonder, frustration before finally settling on confusion.

It had been five minutes when she returned the ring to him and gave him her report. "It seems to me that there is a very powerful illusionary enchantment on the stone along with a compulsion. The compulsion was easy to decipher, it would make you turn it over in your hand three times. The illusion was something I couldn't figure out. The rune work is very advanced, but I know that it involves some type of memory images. Maybe you should just try it out here. I'll supervise and make sure that no harm comes to you." She sent Locking and Silencing Charms at the door before she stepped back and kept her wand at the ready, prepared to immediately intervene if anything occurred.

Accepting her offer of supervision, he breathed in deeply and exhaled, letting it all out. This could be one of the stupidest things he's done, but at least he wouldn't hurt himself too badly with Fleur watching his back. He turned the ring in his hand three times and waited. He saw what looked like mirages form in front of him. His heart hammered in his chest as they coalesced into the forms of his mother, father, and Sirius. His mother's image smiled as she held her hand out while speaking to him. "My baby boy. We're all so proud of you for having come this far." His father had stood next to his mother with a smile on his face. "Don't worry son, you're nearly there. Soon, we can truly meet and our family will be whole again in the afterlife. Harry's eyes were twitching in disbelief as Sirius added in his piece with a smile on his face. "Don't feel guilty about my death, pup. It wasn't your fault. In fact, dying is rather painless. It's easier than falling asleep."

Something had snapped within Harry at that moment as a wave of white-hot anger manifested within him. Everything in the room started shaking as Harry's magic flared violently. Items started slowly levitating and spinning around the room as his magical power spread. The illusory forms kept speaking, ignoring the chaos going on around them. Fleur had started calling out to him in a panic, but Harry couldn't hear her. All he felt was rage at the old man for daring to use the images of his parents to convince him to martyr himself. If the bastard hadn't already passed, Harry would have given him an extremely painful and gruesome death himself. His magic flooded the stone in his hand, seeking to destroy it in anger. Instead, the enchantments were overpowered and self-destructed. The images had immediately vanished, leaving a furious Harry and a slightly scared Fleur. The room looked like it had been the victim of a tornado, with items strewn about everywhere surrounding Harry.

It had taken him several minutes to calm down as he tried desperately to collect himself. He retreated behind his Occlumency barriers, leaving nothing but an emotionless face for Fleur to see. The look in her eyes had worried him. She was looking at him with astonishment, fear and a little bit of hunger. He felt like a piece of meat as she lightly licked her lips as she eyes him up. He hadn't been too off the mark with his comparison. Fleur had told him later that Veela were attracted to and tended to seek out powerful wizards. When Harry had briefly lost control, his magic had been so powerful that she had found herself intoxicated by it. Quickly cleaning up the mess, she had given him a hug. As he lingered in her embrace, he had started to tear up. The illusion of his parents telling him to die had been rough on him.

He hadn't been prepared for how much grief and pain he would feel when he heard them encouraging him to commit suicide. They had sounded so proud and life-like that Harry had almost fallen for it if only Dumbledore hadn't involved Sirius. Padfoot had been the one person he had gotten to interact with and the real one would never have encouraged him to go to his death. He wouldn't have cared if Harry had become a Dark Lord worse than Voldemort, so long as he lived. His barriers slipped for but a moment, but that had been enough. He had sobbed into her shoulder as he held her tight. It took him half an hour to cry himself hoarse before he wiped his eyes and quickly left the room, leaving Fleur behind.

Molly had enlisted them all in helping set up the various decorations for the wedding, so they spent the whole day doing just that. He hadn't talked with anyone, just going through the motions. Either Hermione or Ron had told Molly of his "emotional moment" after Dumbledore's will reading, so she had left him alone for the most part. They had taken a short break in the evening where Molly had prepared a small cake for Harry's birthday. It would have almost been heartwarming, had he not known about their treachery. Fleur had joined in the celebrations, gifting Harry one of her old Enchanting books. He had looked inside before going to bed and he had found a note.

Fleur had written that she had informed her parents of the Weasley's actions and they were furious. She had instructed them to not come tomorrow so they wouldn't be in harm's way when Fleur confronted Bill and the rest of the family. She had already sent her resignation to Gringotts and would be packing her things and portkeying back to France tomorrow. Harry felt happy for her and slipped a note under her door wishing her all the best and reminding her to keep in touch. As he went to bed, he couldn't help but feel a tightness in his stomach. His gut was telling him that something bad was going to happen tomorrow. He was having trouble sleeping with Ron's snoring and the apprehension he was feeling, so he chose to meditate until his thoughts started to drift.

He had woken up the following morning feeling on edge. As he went through his morning ablutions, the feeling got worse. Something was happening, but he had no idea what. Everyone was bustling around the place trying to get set up to meet the guests. They were expected to start arriving within the hour, but Fleur had told Molly that her family had been unexpectedly delayed. Molly had grudgingly forgiven her and carried on as usual when the first guests arrived.

As another hour passed, and more guests started arriving, Harry had wanted to go out and mingle when he was stopped by Mad-Eye. "Potter. You have a target on your back. You can't be seen by the other guests, so we have some Polyjuice for you. You'll be a distant cousin of the Weasleys from the Prewetts. Remember, lad. CONSTANT VIGILANCE! Do not tell anyone except your best friends who you are, cause we don't know where everyone else's loyalties lie. There could be disguised Death Eaters in attendance, so stay sharp and be careful."

Harry had agreed and chugged down the disgusting potion as he felt his body slowly start to change. Moody transfigured his glasses into another shape to sell his new appearance. He had introduced himself to the guests as Jacob Prewett, grand-nephew of Muriel Prewett. The old woman was very forgetful, so it wasn't hard to convince everyone that she kept forgetting about his existence. He had greeted guests and walked around, admiring the arrangements. He had dragged Hermione and Ron into a corner to notify them of his new appearance and background. They had stuck together for the most part, until Viktor Krum had arrived and Hermione had broken away to go talk to him. Ron had gotten jealous and headed to the bar to get himself a drink. Harry had sighed at his immature behavior and gone to greet Viktor. He was confident that Viktor wasn't a Death Eater, so he shared his identity and they had a nice conversation as they caught up with each other.

As the guests were mingling, a Lynx Patronus suddenly dove right into the tent. Kingsley's baritone voice boomed out of the lynx's mouth. "The Ministry has fallen. It has been taken over by Voldemort. Scrimgeour was killed by him just minutes ago. Get out of there, now! Death Eaters are on their way!" Harry heard a couple of panicked screams as everyone started running towards the tent's exit before Apparating away. Harry rushed into action as he exited the tent and ran towards the Burrow. He saw several specks in the sky coming towards the tent when he looked back. Casting a Disillusionment Charm on himself, he sprinted towards the Burrow as fast as he could. Coming upon the door, he wrenched it open before running up the stairs to Ron's room. Busting open the door, he summoned his go-bag and looped the strap around his shoulder.

Just as he was about to leave, he heard a noise coming from down the hall. Fleur was still packing in her room. She hadn't heard that the Death Eaters were coming! He had run down the hall and bashed on the door while yelling for Fleur at the top of his voice. The door opened, revealing a slightly disheveled Fleur with a dress in her hand. Looking behind her, he saw various articles of clothing laid out on the bed with a half-full trunk next to them. He had rushed in and hurriedly informed her of the situation. "Fleur, you've got to hurry. Kingsley sent a Patronus telling us that the Ministry was taken over by Voldemort. I saw them coming as I ran back to get my bag." At this point, they both heard the sound of screams coming from outside. Rushing towards the window, Harry saw the tent on fire as people kept rushing out of it. Two Death Eaters were outside, firing spells at anyone who came out. "Come on! Use magic if you have to. We need to leave, as soon as possible."

She had looked shaken but had nonetheless taken out her wand and started to cast spells that shoved all her belongings into the trunk. Forcing it closed and shrinking it to fit in her pocket, she asked Harry about his plan. "Look, Fleur. They'll be looking for me. This is the Hunt that Dumbeldore wanted me to go on with Ron and Hermione. We were tasked with finding and destroying Voldemort's Horcruxes and that's exactly what I'm going to do. Merlin knows I'm not going to go with them seeing as they want me dead. I've been training for almost two years for this quest. I can handle it. Can you activate your portkey to France?" Fleur looked distressed as she replied. "No. The portkey is designated to only activate at a specific time inside the Ministry's Portkey Departure Room. If the Ministry has fallen, then there's no way I'll be able to go back home. The moment the French Ministry learns of the situation, they'll lock down the border and restrict portkey travel from England."

As she spoke, she got more hysterical. Oh, mon Dieu! I'm stuck in this country with a Dark Lord who hates half-breeds. What am I going to do Harry?!" It was at this point that Harry grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her roughly. "Listen to me Fleur. You are under my protection, so I will protect you from the Ministry. As I said, I've been preparing for this eventuality for a while now. I have multiple Gringotts-warded safe houses all across England. I can give you a portkey to whichever one you choose. There are enough supplies and money to last at least a couple of years. However, before I can give it to you, I need to get to Gringotts. There's something that I have to pick up that's crucial in the fight against Voldemort."

She had calmed down as Harry told her his plan. Looking at him with a solemn expression, she said "Alright. Let's get to Gringotts. No doubt the goblins would have heard of what happened at the Ministry. They would have tightened security, so we'll have to be in and out as quick as possible. Let's go!" Grabbing his hand, she dragged him as they rushed down the stairs and out the door. Harry disillusioned himself and Fleur as they ran towards the ward boundary. The moment they passed the ward line, they apparated directly onto the steps of Gringotts. For Harry James Potter, the war had officially begun and the Hunt was on.