Walking inside, Fleur walked up to and greeted a teller who was counting gems on a scale. The goblin had snarled at the interruption and asked what she wanted. She nodded towards him and he raised his eyebrows. The goblin's attitude did a complete reversal as he politely greeted Harry and asked him what he needed. Harry had gotten straight to the point and demanded a meeting with Ragnok.
The teller had been slightly hesitant, as clients were required to have an appointment to speak with Ragnok. Then again, Harry was their wealthiest client, so an exception could be made. He had excused himself and rushed down the hallway towards Ragnok's office. Hardly thirty seconds later, Ragnok himself had accompanied the goblin out to greet him. "Lord Black. It is good to see you are well. We heard about what happened at the Ministry, so we activated our security protocols. The Dark Lord has officially taken over the Ministry through a violent coup. We are expecting him to turn his attention towards Gringotts soon enough, so we will be remaining vigilant. Pardon me, but you will have to provide a blood identification to verify your identity."
"Greetings, Ragnok. It's good to see that Gringotts is taking security seriously. It'll only be a matter of time before Voldemort thinks to steal the wealth of the Nation. He will need it to fund his little empire. I have no problem providing my blood for verification, but I need your word that all we discuss be kept strictly confidential." Ragnok agreed and Harry took a dagger provided by the teller, pricked his finger, and dropped some blood into a ritual bowl on the desk. The teller then took a quill and dipped it in the blood before touching the tip to a parchment. The words "Harrison James Potter-Black-Slytherin" appeared on the parchment and Ragnok nodded. "Excellent. Let us continue this meeting in my office." They proceeded down the hall and entered Ragnok's office. With the door sealed behind them, they started their discussion.
"The secret behind the Dark Lord Voldemort's revival was that he made several Horcruxes." He heard Ragnok hiss when he said the word Horcruxes. "His aim was to make seven but on Halloween 1981, his ritual backfired thanks to the Slytherin family magic. The fragment of his soul destined for the object was abandoned when his Killing Curse rebounded and destroyed his physical body. So, it latched onto the only thing alive in the vicinity, me. Due to a failed possession attempt, I ended up absorbing the fragment at the end of my fifth year and gained his memories up until that night. Four of his seven Horcruxes have been destroyed. His old diary, his grandfather's ring, the Diadem of Ravenclaw and the one inside me. He has three more left that we need to find and destroy. I believe he gave Hufflepuff's Cup to Bellatrix Lestrange, who kept it inside her Gringotts Vault. Fleur told me you have a ritual to exorcise the Horcrux, so if I can get you the Cup, will you conduct the ritual?"
Ragnok had stared at him open-mouthed as he processed what Harry had said. The Dark Lord had made seven Horcruxes, one of which was the Boy-Who-Lived. If there was indeed a Horcrux inside Gringotts, then according to the treaty, the Nation was allowed to remove the item from the vault and charge the owner a fine. So he resolutely nodded and said, "Lord Black, if you speak the truth, then the Goblin Nation would gladly conduct the ritual and destroy the Horcrux free of charge. They are an affront to magic and it is our sacred duty to the Mother to ensure they are destroyed." He quickly wrote a note and snapped his finger, causing the note to burn up and vanish. "I have sent a note to our Chief Cursebreaker to check both the Lestrange Family vault and Bellatrix Lestrange's personal vault. They should be able to find it within the hour while the priests prepare the exorcism ritual."
Seeing that the goblins were willing to help caused a sigh of relief to escape from him. He spoke up about the next task he needed to complete. "I slew a thousand-year-old basilisk that was the familiar of Salazar Slytherin in my second year. I asked the Hogwarts elves to harvest it just last year and the meat was put into stasis and stored in my safe house in Birmingham. I would like to sell the meat to the Nation as I was informed that it is considered a delicacy." Ragnok's eyes had widened as he heard the outlandish statements coming from Harry's mouth. Swallowing, he asked, "Lord Black, how big would you say this basilisk was?" Harry had thought about it and then answered a little more than 100ft long. Ragnok had been stunned as he mentally calculated how much meat there was. "If you speak the truth, then I can say without a doubt that the Nation would pay top Galleon for the meat. Would 25 Galleons per kilogram suffice? I have to speculate a little as we have never encountered one that ancient." Harry immediately agreed to the quoted rate and did not bother to bargain. He didn't exactly need the money.
"I have nearly two hundred feet of its sheddings and its skin at death. I would like to commission three basilisk battle robes to be made by the best armor smiths of the nation. They will be light, medium and heavy to be able to withstand the various styles of battle I will be engaging in. The light armor would be for stealth and reconnaissance missions, while the medium would be for regular combat and the heavy for sustained combat and head-on duels with Voldemort. The skin is located in the same safe house where the meat is. You can bill me from the money I earned by selling the meat." Fleur, who had been silent the entire time, spoke up. "Make that six basilisk battle robes Lord Ragnok." Harry had looked at her questioningly. She smiled as she replied to the unasked question of why. "I've changed my mind, Harry. I will not hide away in a safe house like a coward. I will fight against the forces of the Dark Lord. Should he manage to conquer England, he will undoubtedly look towards France as his next target. I will not stand by as others fight my battles for me." Harry had tried to argue with her but had gotten shot down every time until he relented and commissioned robes for her too.
Writing another note and sending it off in a flash of fire, Ragnok addressed Harry again. "The armors will take some time, but we can ensure that they will be safely delivered to a chosen location within two weeks. The armor smiths will be arriving shortly to take your measurements. Do you have any other business with us today, Lord Black?" Harry had nervously looked at Fleur before he mentioned the final thing he wanted to talk about. "When I was staying in Grimmauld Place over the summer, I talked to the portrait of my granduncle Arcturus Sirius Black III. He mentioned that my grandfather, Charlus Potter, had told of the existence of the Peverell family grimoire sealed inside a vault in Gringotts. He mentioned there were several deadly Blood Wards and how only a Potter could unseal the vault and retrieve the grimoire. I would like to test my worthiness and retrieve it."
Ragnok had a very serious expression on his face as he gazed at Harry. "Lord Black. What you seek to accomplish is something that many have tried and failed. The Peverell grimoire is indeed located inside one of the First Ten Vaults. However, the qualifications to cross the final barrier is something that no Potter has ever achieved in their lifetime. To cross the threshold, the descendant must have united all three of the Deathly Hallows. The artifacts that embodied the original Peverell family magic. If they tried to force their way in, they would be violently rejected and could possibly die from the backlash. Are you sure you would like to try?" Wordlessly, Harry had taken off his necklace trunk and enlarged it. Reaching in, he removed his Invisibility Cloak and laid it out on Ragnok's desk. He took the Resurrection Stone out from his pocket and placed it on the left side of the cloak. Flicking his left wrist, he drew the Elder Wand from his backup wrist holster and placed it on the right side of the cloak. Ragnok's expression had gone from disbelief to anticipation until he had a feral, toothy grin on his face when the wand was placed down on his desk.
"My congratulations, Lord Black. You have accomplished what tens of generations of Potters failed to do, all while in your teens. It seems that Fate definitely favors you. With all three items, you will be able to pass the threshold of the vault but be warned, no one has ever gone inside since it was first sealed. Even us goblins have no idea what else is in there as we were never able to get past the Blood Wards. Once the armorsmiths are done taking your measurements, I will personally accompany you down to the Peverell vault."
The armorsmiths had knocked on the door upon Ragnok's declaration. Inviting them in, they both gruffly told Harry and Fleur to stand up. A measuring tape and ruler zipped out of their hand and started measuring Harry and Fleur. All the while, two quills were scribbling numbers onto a piece of parchment. The measuring process took about two minutes. Afterward, the armorsmiths started asking some questions about the battle robes' purpose and the inclusion of some specialized enchantments that might be useful for each one. It took thirty minutes to iron out the finer details, but both Harry and Fleur were satisfied with the specifications of the robes they were going to receive. After the armorsmiths left, Ragnok led them out of his office and onto a Vault Runner cart.
The goblin manning the cart looked very intimidated as Ragnok commanded him to get out. Leaping out of the cart, he squeaked as he asked for instructions. Ragnok told him to go help the tellers until he returned with the customers and the goblin left without any questions. "Alright, Lord Black. Get ready, as we are going to go into the deepest section in all of Gringotts. The journey might not be pleasant as the tracks haven't been maintained in almost a century. After all, every single family in the First Ten have been declared extinct or have dissolved among other familial lines. The protections on the vaults are stronger than anything we could create as they were made with ancient magic that cannot be subverted. Plenty of fools have tried to get into the vaults claiming familial ties or magical heirship, but in the end, let's just say that we always had a decent mess to clean up." As he spoke, the cart started rattling as it descended into the pitch-black subterranean depths of the cavern. After two minutes of high-speed jostling and unexpected twists and turns, the cart finally came to a stop. Nervously looking around, they waited for any source of light. Ragnok had gotten out of the cart and used what looked to be a Muggle cigar lighter to light a wooden torch on the wall. Seeing their looks towards the lighter, he chuckled before explaining. "The reason why I'm using a Muggle lighter is that the magic protecting the vaults don't react well to foreign magic of any kind. These torches are soaked in a special goblin potion to be able to retain flammability for about two decades. We replace them on a schedule. Come now, we must get to the Peverell vault."
They started the journey as they passed by vaults ten, nine and eight before Ragnok stopped. In front of the trio lied a pair of dragons. The only difference was that Harry had never seen this kind of dragon in his Creatures book or any reference material when preparing for the First Task. They had draconic features, replete with wings, but their skin looked to be thin and leathery with the bones being prominently shone from underneath. Ragnok had seen his gaze and softly spoke. "Those dragons have guarded the Peverell vault since the family first opened a Gringotts account. We have no idea what kind of dragons they are, as any attempt to study them up close has been met with violence and death. We simply call them Draconis Mortus or Death Dragons, given their striking similarity to thestrals. The only individual I've ever seen pass them was your grandfather Charlus. He simply declared his right to take the trial as a member of House Potter. So I would assume that only those with Potter blood in their veins will be let through. This is where I and your companion must stay. The dragons will not allow us any closer. Go ahead, they will not harm you."
Harry stilled before slowly walking towards the vault entrance. The dragons looked really intimidating and for the briefest moment, he thought he was going to be ripped to shreds. Stopping just in front of the dragons, who started sniffing the air as he came to a halt, he spoke loudly and clearly. "My name is Harrison James of House Potter. I demand entrance to undergo the trial as is my right as a member of House Potter and as my forefathers did before me." Well, at least his last words would be bold and courageous. The dragons stilled for a moment as their pale white eyes zeroed in on him. A couple of long sniffs and short huffs of white fire later, they glanced at each other before they laid back down and didn't mind him anymore.
Letting out the breath he didn't know he had been holding, Harry gave them a quick bow before walking forward to the vault door. There was an indentation in the shape of a hand on the vault door, so Harry did what anyone would do given that situation. He put his hand on the indentation. He felt five sharp pinpricks as he whipped his hand away from the door while cursing. Five small, blood coated needles were present in each finger of the indentation. Seconds passed as nothing happened. Suddenly, the handprint flashed as the needles withdrew and the vault door started creaking open. He could see inside the vault and the sight surprised him. A vault belonging to a family as notorious and ancient as the Peverells should have had wealth greater than the Blacks. Yet all he saw were three chests on the back wall and a book on a pedestal in the center of the vault. The book was enclosed in a glass case that looked to have runes all over its surface. No doubt they were deadly to anyone who tried to take the grimoire by force.
He felt the need to explore the vault and discover its secrets but stopped abruptly in his tracks. The final barrier to entry was one Ragnok had mentioned. He had to have united the Deathly Hallows. Perhaps presenting them or wielding them as he entered counted as having united them? Taking out the Hallows, he draped the Cloak of Invisibility over his shoulder, held the Elder Wand in his right hand and the Resurrection Stone in his left. Taking a deep breath, he took a single step past the threshold, hoping to Merlin that he was correct. He felt himself passing through a barrier of sorts. It felt like he was struggling through a wall of gelatin. That one step had taken a monumental effort on his part, as he felt himself being repulsed all the while. Nevertheless, he persisted in his effort, feeling the Hallows heat up as he progressed through the barrier. The end was nearly in sight as Harry forged ahead, but he wasn't prepared for what happened next.
The Hallows all dissipated into motes of black light and were absorbed into his skin. The pain that accompanied the absorption was beyond anything Harry had ever felt. He would have honestly preferred the loving Crucio of Voldemort himself over the soul-rending pain he was feeling at the moment. He hadn't even heard the screams of agony that were emanating from him or Fleur's worried shouting from outside. What had felt like several agonizing hours was in reality only slightly less than a minute as he reached the end of the barrier and stumbled through before collapsing in a heap. Harry felt a heat growing near his heart as he flipped himself onto his back and started ripping at the buttons of his shirt. Looking down at his chest, he saw a glowing tattoo being slowly branded into his skin. It was the symbol of the Deathly Hallows.
"Well, I'd give your performance a solid six out of ten. Your screams of agony were not the first thing I expected to hear as I woke up." Harry had drawn his wand automatically, throwing himself into a crouched stance while scanning for the threat. He spotted a portrait on the right wall looking at him in amusement. "Easy, child. Seeing as you have passed the numerous Blood Wards we placed using our family magic, it is safe to say that you have passed the second trial. No harm will come to you in this vault, so long as you don't try to take the grimoire by force." Second trial? Meaning there were more? This was probably one of the things that the goblins weren't able to find out. "I'm sorry to have woken you up sir. My name is Harrison James Potter, and I was informed about the grimoire by my granduncle. He mentioned that I would have to unite the Deathly Hallows and when I did, I could retrieve it."
The portrait's eyes softened as he observed Harry's face before responding. "Well met, Harrison James Potter. I am Ignotus Peverell, but you may call me Grandpa Iggy, seeing as I am your many times great grandfather. It has been quite some time since I had last spoken to any Potter. My granddaughter had married into the line and I had the pleasure of meeting my great-grandchildren before my passing. The Peverell line died with me, so I put safeguards to ensure that the magic my family fought to obtain wouldn't be abused by my descendants. The Hallows were a test, but also a trick. My brothers and I created those items so that they would pass from owner to owner, absorbing their knowledge and magics so our fated descendant would benefit. The reason behind us making the Hallows and spreading their legend was due to a prophecy made by Queen Le Fey herself. You may be informed of the prophecy during your final test, but that all depends on the arbiter. However, to access the grimoire, you must pass the third trial."
As he said the words "third trial" a pedestal extended from the ground in front of the portrait and a Pensieve appeared on top. "You must willingly give every single memory of your life up until this point and deposit them in the Pensieve. Be warned, if you try to play any tricks, I will know, and the family magic will extract a price for your deceit. Your entire life and emotions will be laid bare for me to see. Then I will make my judgment on your character. Should you be deemed worthy by me, you will be allowed to take the final test. The grimoire's test. Make your choice Harrison James, for you will not get another chance should you refuse."
Harry was worried. His life had not been a pretty one, especially his early childhood with the Dursleys. What if Ignotus saw his hatred for them and decided that he was not worthy of the grimoire? What if he saw the numerous betrayals of his friends and decided that Harry would abuse the knowledge for revenge? He had kept his abusive home life secret for a long time. Partly due to the painful training at the hands of the Dursleys, but also due to the sense of shame he felt for not standing up to them. He struggled in his decision. It would be the first time he had ever let someone know about the real him. Steeling himself, he put his wand to his temple and looked back on his entire life. Usually, extracting a memory took less than five seconds, but Harry was attempting to extract seventeen year's worth of memories. It took him the better part of ten minutes to finish and by the end, it looked as if a silver unicorn tail was suspended at the end of his wand. He dropped the memories into the Pensieve and watched Ignotus for his reaction.
Ignotus' eyes flashed a bright silver as he made no sound. His eyes continued to glow for nearly fifteen minutes before the settled back into their normal state. He had a look of sadness mixed with pride on his face. "My dear Harrison. I cannot believe the abuse you have faced at the hands of those who were supposed to care for you. I feel proud knowing that despite your cruel upbringing, you maintained your sense of right and wrong. You grew up into a splendid young man, and your morals stayed true even after you discovered your friends' betrayal. You did not cower before the man who calls himself Voldemort, bravely facing him despite the difference in strength. You, Harrison, have proven beyond doubt that you are of good character, with courage in spades, and without fear of death. It is with great pride and honor that I, Ignotus Peverell, do hereby declare you, Harrison James Potter as the Lord Peverell. Stand forth and take the final test. It will begin the moment you touch the grimoire." When he finished speaking, the glass case that was protecting the grimoire dissolved back around the edges of the pedestal.
Harry didn't know how to express what he was feeling at that moment. His own ancestor had seen his entire life and been proud of him. Would his parents feel the same way? Walking towards the grimoire, he summoned up all of his Gryffindor courage as he laid his hands on it. The world around him dissolved into black as he couldn't feel or hear anything. Suddenly, a light shined through his eyes as he felt himself being shaken. Blearily opening his eyes, he saw a blurry face looking down at him as he heard an unfamiliar voice calling out to him. "Harry. Harry, wake up! We're going to be late for the train if you don't get up now. He saw a beautiful woman with auburn hair and bright green eyes looking down at him. "Mum?" he whispered, unsure of what was happening. His shock must've shown on his face as he heard her chuckle. "Yes, Harry, it's your dear old Mum. Now come on, get dressed and we'll get some breakfast in you. Your sisters are already having breakfast downstairs."
Harry whipped off the blanket as he threw his arms around his mother, hugging her tightly. "Oh, Mum! You're really here, aren't you? You won't go away?" She hugged him back slightly hesitantly. "Of course, baby. Where do you think I'd go?" Harry started rambling. "I had a terrible nightmare, where you and Dad were killed by Voldemort! I was sent to the Dursleys, and they hurt me so many times. Every year at Hogwarts, something happened that nearly killed me! It was so horrible, Mum! Please tell me this is real!" He felt her arms tighten around him as she said "Of course this is real, Harry. My poor baby. What a terrible dream you had. Don't you worry darling, I'm not going anywhere and neither is your father. We're going to be there for you, always."
As they separated, she smiled fondly as she said "It was just a bad dream, Harry. Now, get dressed. We can't have our Head Boy late to his own briefing, can we?" Harry happily nodded and set about getting dressed. He quickly had his outfit on as he cast Ironing and Wrinkle Prevention Charms on his clothes. He proceeded down the stairs and walked into the kitchen. Seated at the table was a man who looked like an older version of himself. The same windswept hair and round glasses adorned his face as he smiled at him. "Well, well well. The Hogwarts Head Boy has decided to grace us with his presence at the breakfast table. What say you, girls?"
Beside him, two red-haired girls were eating their breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast. One of them looked up and said "I still can't believe Professor McGonagall made you Head Boy. Merlin knows the number of detentions you've had should've automatically taken you out of the running." She was a carbon copy of his mother but had her father's hazel eyes. The other girl looked up and remonstrated her twin sister. "Vi, that's not very nice. Even if he did get all those detentions, he is at the top of his year in marks. I'm so happy for you, Harry. I'm sure you'll be a great Head Boy!" His sisters Violet and Iris Potter were born just two years after him and were currently in their fifth year. Violet had followed her big brother into Gryffindor, but Iris had been sorted into Ravenclaw. He had taken his responsibilities as their big brother seriously and had looked after them at Hogwarts. Violet always complained about how overprotective he was, while Iris appreciated his efforts to keep them safe.
This year was his final year at Hogwarts and he had been made Head Boy and Quidditch Captain for the Gryffindor team. His parents had been overjoyed when the badges had fallen out of his envelope. James especially had been beaming with pride, telling all his coworkers about how his son had taken after his old man. He didn't know who the Head Girl was, but he didn't really care. All that mattered was graduating at the top of his year and making his parents proud. He had scarfed down his breakfast in record time and rushed to get his trunk. The family decided it would be easier to Floo to King's Cross Station. Clearly intoning his destination, Harry and the Potters were whisked away through the Floo Network, being tossed out inside the platform.
After sharing an emotional goodbye with his parents, Harry made his way through the crowd and onto the Express. The very first compartment was his destination, so he started his journey. On the way, he met several friends who greeted and congratulated him for making Head Boy. Graciously accepting their praise, he made his way to the cabin and opened the door. He was greeted by a sight he hadn't expected. Sitting in the cabin was a gorgeous girl wearing a Hogwarts robe with green trimming. Her silky black hair went down to her waist in an elegant braid. Her skin was a milky white that brought out her luscious pink lips and piercing blue eyes. Upon seeing her, he had a bad feeling in his gut. "Greengrass? You're Head Girl?" She looked up from her magazine and her and stared at him unamusedly. "Potter. I should've guessed McGonagall would appoint her favorite student as Head Boy. I'm surprised your pal Granger didn't get Head Girl. Maybe they're trying to make some 'house unity' statement."
Harry was caught off guard by her tone and immediately spoke up to defend his favorite teacher. "Listen here, Greengrass. McGonagall is one of the most unbiased teachers in the whole of Hogwarts next to Flitwick. She made me Head Boy because she was confident that I would do a good job. She cares about qualifications. Obviously, she felt you would be a better fit for the role than Hermione, so you became Head Girl. If it inadvertently makes a statement on unity, then that's just icing on the cake." She heard his vehement defense and jokingly put her hands up as she replied. "Easy, Potter. I wasn't trying to insult McGonagall or imply anything negative. I was genuinely surprised, but I'm sure we can make this work, right? After all, we are going to be living together."
He stared at her suspiciously innocent look. While he wasn't sure what exactly her angle was, he knew for a fact that she was one of the better Slytherins. God knows if he had to partner with Pansy Parkinson or her ilk. He would sooner hurl himself off the Express than have to deal with her for a year. Sitting down, he proffered his hand. "Well then, I hope that we have a good year and come to an understanding." She seemed surprised that he hadn't reacted with hatred and disdain. More often than not, that was what his best mate Ron tended to do. He vehemently hated anything to do with Slytherin House and vilified all members as 'dark wizards and witches'. He had almost fallen into that trap until his mother had smacked some sense into him. She mentioned that not all Slytherins were the same and the internal politics of the house forced members to present a unified front in public. That had changed his perspective and after several perfectly innocuous interactions, he took the lesson to heart. He gave her a smile as he sat down beside her to plan their briefing for the Prefects.
The year went without a hitch. He had led Gryffindor to victory for the Quidditch Cup and together with Hermione, they had secured the House Cup as well. He was ranked first in his year and set a high bar for the next Head Boy. His relationship with Daphne had undergone significant change. While their interactions in the first few weeks had been rather professional and curt, that had changed once they really got to know each other. He started enjoying her company and he knew that she was having fun as well. A couple of trips to Hogsmeade to "supervise" the younger students had laid the foundation for their relationship. He found himself head over heels for her and knew that she felt that same. Upon graduation, he had followed his father into the Auror Corps, while she had chosen to become an Unspeakable. Despite their work-intensive fields, they still managed to make time for dates. Two years in, Harry had gone to Greengrass Manor and gotten both her parent's permission to marry her. Her parents were pleased that she was marrying into a respectable family and to a man she loved.
Their wedding had been an extravagant affair, with both his and her mother putting it all together. Their match was an interesting one politically because House Greengrass was a leader of the neutral block. With the Heiress Presumptive marrying into a traditional Light family, many were speculating that the Light block would gain more votes and influence. Cyrus had responded to the allegations of switching by betrothing his younger daughter to Ernest McMillan, the Heir to a prominent Pureblood family in the Neutral block. With this arrangement, House Greengrass had shrewdly made inroads into the Light block while maintaining their position as the leader of the Neutrals. Harry couldn't have cared less as he had gotten married to the most beautiful woman in the world.
Their marriage had been a long and happy one. They had 4 children, 2 boys, and 2 girls. His children had all grown up and graduated Hogwarts, each pursuing their dreams. His two oldest, James and Rose had joined the Auror Corps. His younger son, Edward, had decided to pursue his Transfiguration Mastery under Headmistress Minerva McGonagall. His youngest, Holly, had followed her mother into the ranks of the Unspeakables. They were all successful in their fields and he could ask for nothing more.
As he thought about them, he felt an itch at the back of his mind. It had been troubling him ever since his 7th year and had gotten stronger since then. It hadn't become a problem until recently when he had looked at Daphne and hadn't recognized her. She had promptly rushed him to St. Mungo's hospital, but the Healers couldn't find anything wrong with him. Since then, he had to take the occasional potion to lessen the pain of his headache. He had gone another year before it had returned with a vengeance. His father had passed in his sleep after almost 93 years. At his funeral, Harry had kept hearing his voice in the back of his mind. The words kept repeating. "Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! I'll hold him off!" It was a little disconcerting as he couldn't figure out who James had been referring to. The worst attack happened just a couple of weeks after the funeral.
His mother had passed on, just after her husband. Many had mentioned that a broken heart was something that made the elderly follow their spouse in death. He had been numb throughout, not really comprehending what anyone was saying. The funeral had been open casket and after the eulogy, he had gone to pay his last respects when it happened. He had gotten a vision out of nowhere.
He was in a dark room, his mother hurriedly putting him into a crib. Her face was grim in determination, but her eyes spoke of deep love. She kissed his forehead and said "Don't worry baby. Mommy will protect you, no matter what. Your Daddy and I love you so much, Harry. Live a long and happy life for us, okay?" He had responded with some unintelligible gibberish, but his mother had simply smiled at him. The door was blasted inwards, showering the floor with its broken pieces. A tall figure in a dark cloak strode forwards with its wand held aloft. It turned towards his mother as an inhuman voice came from within the shadowy hood. "Did you really think you could hide from the Dark Lord Voldemort, Mudblood? It was a pity I had to kill your husband, as there was no need for an ancient Pureblood family to become extinct tonight. Now step aside, and you shall be spared." His mother drew herself to her full height and faced Voldemort as she held her arms wide, attempting to shield him. "No, not Harry! Please he's just a baby! Don't kill him! Take me instead!" Voldemort repeated himself, telling her to step aside. She refused so he heard the dreaded words "Avada Kedavra" as a green light raced towards his mother and she fell to the ground. Her hair splayed around her head like a fiery halo with her eyes emptily gazing at him. He had screamed as he saw her but couldn't do anything but watch as the cloaked figure came up to his crib. "So you're the one destined to defeat me. I can feel your power child, and I would love to let you grow so I can have a challenge, but alas, I must do this to secure the future of my magical empire. Farewell, Harry Potter. "Avada Kedavra!" For a second time, he saw the green light head towards him. As it hit his forehead, he felt a pain, unlike anything he had ever experienced before. A searing hot pain on his forehead above his right eye was the only thing he felt as he heard an inhuman scream while the world faded around him.
He had woken up in the hospital days later, surrounded by his worried family. According to them, he had collapsed and started screaming in pain at the end of his mother's funeral. The Healers had all told them there was nothing wrong but something they couldn't explain had occurred. A scar in the shape of a lightning bolt had appeared on Harry's forehead and no spell seemed to be able to heal it. After convincing his family that he felt fine, he had been signed out into his wife's care and they took him home. After a few days, he had gotten tired of being cooped up in the house, so he volunteered to take his grandchildren to the park. As he sat on the bench, watching them playing innocently, laughing as they chased each other around the playground, it hit him all at once. His name was Harrison James Potter. He was the Boy-Who-Lived, the only survivor of the Killing Curse. His parents had sacrificed their lives so that he could live. He was the Lord Peverell, Black, and Slytherin. He had fought for survival his entire life and he would not fall here.
As he comprehended the situation, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a lady in an elegant black dress with a veil over her head take a seat next to him. He turned his attention back to his grandchildren as he spoke. "They're beautiful, aren't they?" The woman seemed to smile as she replied. "I agree, they seem to have inherited your lovely eyes." Still gazing at them wistfully he shook his head. "I was talking about dreams. They let you be whoever you want to be. Live the life you so desperately hope to live. They allow you to be the best that you can be. Unfortunately, in the end, they do not have any effect on reality." As he finished the impromptu speech he turned towards the lady and addressed her. "Isn't that right, Queen Morgana Le Fay?"
The woman smiled as she slowly removed the veil. Once she revealed her face, Harry was treated to the sight of the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Her delicate features seemed almost inhumanly perfect as if a goddess was walking among mortals. Her eyes were a light shade of purple that contrasted with her long, silky black hair that shone underneath the afternoon sun. Her perfect white teeth shone as she gave him a bright smile. "Excellent work Harrison! It is a pleasure to finally meet you. As you have correctly guessed, my name is indeed Morgana Le Fey. Out of curiosity, when exactly did you realize that you were in an illusion?" The question made Harry take stock of the life he had lived so far as he pondered what to say.
After a minute of thinking, he confidently answered. "I can say that I consciously realized it after my episode at my mother's funeral. The vision I experienced gave me a clue that it was a memory and not a simple hallucination due to the perspective. I was the baby in the memory, not a random bystander. Though subconsciously, I think my mind realized it was a dream near the end of my 7th year." Morgana's eyes were alight with curiosity as she followed up with another query. "Really? That's quite early on. What made you start doubting all the way back then?" This was where Harry already knew the answer. It was an instinctual concept based on the life he had lived so far.
"It was too perfect. My parents were alive. I lived up to all their expectations and met a beautiful woman who I went on to marry. I lived a good life and had children whom I loved with all my heart. It was all so... normal. Normality was the one thing I have desperately craved since my 9th birthday when I was beaten by Vernon after I asked for a birthday present. As I lay in my cupboard, broken and bleeding, I realized that my parents were never going to come and save me. I realized that my life would never be normal and I would not have the opportunity to have a childhood and fall in love. This epiphany was only reinforced during my time at Hogwarts. Even when I found out about my so-called friends and mentor betraying me, I was angry but not surprised. Deep down, I think I always knew that I would live alone and die alone. I just decided to go out on my own terms."
He felt lighter as he spoke about his feelings. A weight had lifted off his shoulders. His vision blurred as he teared up thinking about how fucked up his life had been and how unworthy he felt. He felt a pair of soft hands caress his cheeks as they turned his head to the side. As they touched him, the image of his older self was replaced by how he looked in reality. The world around them cracked and shattered like glass as it was replaced by a white room. The bench had transformed into a comfortable couch as he blinked the tears out of his eyes. He saw the sad expression Morgana had on her face as she softly spoke to him. "My dear little Harrison. You have lived a torturous life that I would not wish upon any magical child. I can tell you that your harrowing experiences have been caused by a wizard who tampered with magic beyond his understanding. Albus Dumbledore was a desperate man grasping at straws when he had an idea. He thought that he could make Voldemort focus on a couple of select targets and leave the rest of Britain alone. He concocted a fake prophecy and controlled a Seer to go into an induced trance and say it aloud. He knew all along that Severus Snape was outside the door listening. He timed the exact moment that his brother would kick him out so Snape would hear the crucial line of the prophecy and take it to Voldemort. In doing so, it caused Voldemort to hunt for the two families that fit the timeline for the prophecy and ultimately choose the Potters. Your parents were destined to live a long life, Harrison. They would have fled Britain and raised you in the Colonies. The ICW would have intervened in Britain and Voldemort and his forces were destined to fall. However, all of that ended when the false prophecy took hold and twisted the strings of fate. In revenge, Fate took that false prophecy that Dumbledore created and decided to imbue it with its power, turning what was once false into a true prophecy. The reason Albus Dumbledore feared you and worked so hard to assure your end was because you were never supposed to live, Harrison. By messing with the magic of prophecy, he unwittingly gave you the power to stand up to both Voldemort and himself. It was why he let your relatives abuse you, turned your friends against you, and kept you weak and ignorant. If you had applied yourself, then others would have known how powerful you were and rallied behind you. It would have taken away his power and prestige as the self-proclaimed Leader of the Light. You would surpass him completely if you were left unchecked, so he sought to martyr you to fulfill his own fake prophecy."
It was a lot for Harry to take in. The prophecy had hung over his head like a Sword of Damocles for the longest time. He had been convinced that he was Fate's bitch, only to now find out that it was all Dumbledore's fault. The man's ego had made him mess with Fate, so Fate decided to mess with him in retaliation. He was an innocent caught in between a fight he had nothing to do with. It was the knowledge that his parents had unnecessarily died that caused him to break out into sobs. Morgana held him close as she gently stroked his back while he cried into her shoulder.
It was all so unfair, how he had lost everything he held dear because of something he couldn't control. That his entire life had been ruined by a paranoid psychopath doggedly attempting to ensure his immortality. He cried until he could cry no more, and he felt nothing but emptiness. Separating from Morgana he held his head in his hands and took deep breaths. The emptiness was quickly replaced by burning anger that threatened to consume him. Two bastards who were convinced of their own superiority were the cause of all his misery. One of them was dead, so he couldn't do anything about him, but the other was still alive. He would make Voldemort pay for all he had done.
He felt a hand lightly grasp his shoulder as was brought out of his thoughts. "I can sense the anger in you Harrison. It is like a burning wildfire that rages within, begging to be let loose. I need you to control yourself. You are going to fight a war. Simply fighting for revenge will get you killed quickly. You must be in control of your emotions, and not let them consume you. Otherwise, the spells and curses you use will start to corrupt your soul." Harry started as he saw the knowing look in her eyes.
"Oh yes, I have seen the knowledge you obtained from the Black family grimoire. The Dark Arts are tantalizing and compel you to use them increasingly. Many great witches and wizards have fallen into the trap and corrupted their souls and magic permanently. You cannot allow that to happen to you, Harrison. Inside this grimoire are some of the most potent Le Fey family spells and rituals. You will also find my complete research in every field of the Dark Arts, even those considered Black. Be warned, for this knowledge will change you, Harrison. Many Dark Lords and Ladies have delved into these subjects, but none have gone as deep as I have. I am not referred to as the Mother of the Dark Arts for nothing. Employ the knowledge you find within to fight and win, my descendant."
"Wait. Descendant? How?" Harry was taken aback by her statement. He was descended from the great Morgana Le Fey, the greatest Dark Lady in history? She giggled lightly as she softly smiled at him. "Unlike what your Uncle Arcturus thought, I did not simply hand over my family magic as a reward for loyalty. The Peverells were the family that gave me sanctuary when Arthur banished me from Camelot. They helped raise and train my son Mordred for his quest to reclaim his rightful place as king. Mordred fell in love with a girl from the family and went on to have a son before he left to take back the kingdom. As you know, he died in battle with Arthur, leaving his wife and son behind. That son went on to become the Lord Peverell and presided over the family for many years before passing the Headship over to his eldest son. The line continued until the famous brothers that created the Deathly Hallows, as you call them. You know how the story goes, as only one survived until the end. His granddaughter married the son of a man named Linfred of Stinchcombe, also known as the Potterer. Thus, the Potter family was started and has continued all the way to you. My association with the Peverells was well hidden and I spent the last years of my life researching and combining our family grimoires so that my descendants would have access to all my knowledge. The reason I did so was that I had a vision of a young boy who would be born that would need it. That boy was you, Harrison. You were always destined to pass this test, just as you were destined to lead a difficult and troubled life."
Her explanation caused a burst of anger within him. "Another Merlin be damned prophecy?! You've got to be kidding me! You tell me that a fake one was responsible for destroying my family and my entire life so far, and now you tell me there's another one?! I was destined to lead a shitty life?! I can't believe this!" Before he knew it, he was shouting at her. Instead of reacting in anger, Morgana simply gave him a look filled with pity as she waited for him to finish his tirade. "I understand why you hate the workings of Fate and the negative effects that prophecies have had on your life, Harrison. I honestly would have preferred you never had to go through the crucible that you were subjected to. As I wrote this book, it was my sincere hope that none of my descendants would ever need to access it. I believed that the magical world would find peace and humans would be able to coexist with the many sentient magical beings who share our gift. Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought that children would have to fight for their survival against adults that held no qualms against brutalizing them. A vision came to me after I learned of Mordred's death. I collapsed and suffered a fever that should have killed me. I still believe that Mother Magic and Fate intervened to let me live, so I could pass on my vast knowledge to the child of prophecy. I received a vision of a young boy who witnessed his parent's last moments as a babe. One who would grow up to fight the man that killed them. A brave and noble soul, willing to sacrifice himself to ensure the survival of others. A man who would unite the two worlds and lead an army against a dark tyrant obsessed with immortality. So I left a piece of my consciousness inside the grimoire to help guide the boy, and here I am."
There were many questions he wanted to ask, but he was getting a little tired of the constant barrage of revelations. He needed to focus and find out what he had at his disposal. "Alright. Let's say I believe you. What can you do to help me win this war?" Morgana grinned as she answered. "This grimoire has a unique training method that allows the user to train in their sleep. Like the test, I can bring you into the dream realm and work with you to refine your spellwork and control. You can practice using many scenarios and mimic real duels and battles to plan for any situation in the real world. I will also coach you on undergoing some of the most potent enhancement rituals to help you physically equal your Dark Lord Voldemort. There will be an extensive amount of learning involved and I will push you to your absolute limits and force you to break past them."
Harry was deeply impressed with the features and advantages that the grimoire offered, but something didn't seem right. "That's all well and good, but there must be a catch. There's no way such an invaluable and complex piece of magic wouldn't have any drawbacks." Morgana laughed as she praised him. "I'm happy you noticed that, Harrison. Indeed, there isn't a tool in existence without drawbacks and the grimoire is no different. Firstly, you will only be able to train for the amount of time you sleep. There is no way to dilate time in this realm. Secondly, you will be limited to your body's power and only that. You cannot draw any power from the dream realm, only expend magic already within you. While pushing past your limits and achieving a high level of control in the dream realm is all well and good, you will have to repeat the training in the physical world to obtain the full benefits. Your mind will be familiar with the feeling, but your body will have to be trained to catch up. There is no shortcut to power, Harrison. Only hard work and constant repetition and practice."
Harry quietly contemplated her words. Of course, it wouldn't be that simple. Otherwise, he could just train for decades in a time dilated dream and defeat Voldemort the moment he woke up. Such wishful thinking was pushing the boundaries of reality a bit too far. "There is no shortcut to power" he muttered as he tried to think of a plan. The rituals that Morgana talked about sounded promising, but he needed to make sure they didn't turn him into a monster like Voldemort. The man had effectively lost his humanity with the depraved rituals he had undergone to increase his power. He was more snake than human at this point. Harry did not fancy losing his humanity in the pursuit of the power to defeat Voldemort, no matter how tempting it might be.
"Are the rituals you spoke of Dark in nature?" Morgana raised a questioning eyebrow as she smirked at his rather naive question. "According to your memories, your Ministry has declared almost all rituals as Dark, so these would probably be seen as the darkest of Dark rituals. However, in my time, these were powerful enhancement rituals that many underwent. I simply modified the base rituals to suit my family magic and improve their effects. The main difference between your idea of modern rituals and my rituals is the act of invocation. My rituals will beseech Mother Magic to accept the sacrificial ingredients and bless the person undergoing the ritual. Modern rituals rarely, if ever, invoke the Mother. They rely more on the bending surrounding magic to their will to achieve a certain effect. Invocation is a lost and dangerous art, with only your Unspeakables ever coming close to realizing its true power."
Harry nodded as he absorbed the information. "Alright. Now that that's out of the way. How should we proceed?" "First, you must rest, Harrison. Today has been a trying time and with a war on the horizon, you will need to properly recover before we can start your training. Your companions are awaiting you outside the Vault, so it is now time for you to leave. You may explore the chests later, but for now, take the grimoire with you. All you have to do it will it inside your body and it will be stored alongside the Hallows." Following her instructions, Harry saw the grimoire dissipate into black motes of light that rushed into the spot where the Hallows were branded on his chest. A brief burning sensation accompanied the aftermath as he saw the triangle encased inside a rectangle, representing the grimoire.
Taking a couple of deep breaths to center himself, he turned around to leave. As he was on the way out, Ignotus' portrait called to him. "Harry, wait one moment. I wanted to inform you that right now, you will haven't accessed the true power of the Hallows. To use them, you must first will them outside your body. Inside the grimoire, there are instructions on rituals to bind them to you alone and be able to access their powers without them being physically present. It would be a good tactical advantage in a war if you had a wand within you that could not be destroyed or taken away. After you properly bind them, come back to the vault and I'll guide you through the contents of the chest." Harry nodded and smiled. "Thanks for telling me about it Grandpa Iggy. I'll make sure to bind them as soon as I can. See you soon!" With a jaunty wave, Harry turned around and walked out of the vault.
Passing by the dragons, the first sight he was treated to was a crying Fleur as Ragnok attempted to awkwardly offer her consolation. As she looked up, she saw him staring at her wide-eyed, before rushing towards him and locking him in a hug. "Oh, Harry! I heard your screams and I wanted to rush inside so badly, but Ragnok warned me about the dragons! Are you okay?! Why did you scream so loudly?! Did you get what you needed to?!" She blubbered slightly as the questions came pouring out. Harry felt touched by her concern. "Shhh. It's okay, Fleur. Everything went well. It was the family magic that caused some pain as the Hallows dissolved into my body. I spoke with my ancestor and he officially made me the Lord Peverell, allowing me access to the family grimoire. I passed all the tests, so I was able to access all the knowledge within."
Ragnok had quietly viewed the spectacle with a mix of amusement and anticipation. He wanted to know what was inside the fabled Peverell vault. They had not even been able to see inside thanks to the ancient magic and Blood wards, so he desperately wanted to satisfy his curiosity. He had been listening in as Harry explained what happened. The Hallows being absorbed into him was odd, but not unexpected seeing as he was their uniter. What really surprised him was the second half of the events. A portrait of his ancestor had declared him the Lord Peverell?! He needed to verify the claim immediately! Clearing his throat, he spoke in a respectful tone. "Lord Black, I hear that a portrait declared you the Lord Peverell. May I ask if you could show me the Head of House ring?"
Harry had been expecting the question and simply raised his left hand over Fleur's shoulder as his family rings materialized. A new one had appeared on his index finger that had a stylized "P" and a thestral engraving with black onyx for eyes. However, that wasn't the ring that drew his attention. Another ring had replaced the Black family ring that was previously worn on Harry's ring finger. The Black ring had been moved to the pinky while a new ring sat prominently displayed. The ring in question was made out of mithril and had a black engraving of an owl with purple diamonds for eyes and its wings extended, bridging two lines on either side forming the letter "M". Ragnok's jaw dropped as he recognized the seal. Every goblin in the Nation was taught about famous historical seals, and this one was unforgettable, as it was the personal seal of Queen Morgana Le Fey herself. He quickly collected himself and put his fist on his chest as he bowed deeply from the waist. "It is my distinct honor as Ragnok Goldsword III, King of the Goblin Nation, to welcome you back to the magical world, Your Royal Highness Prince Harrison James Potter-Black-Slytherin-Peverell-Le Fey."
Hearing his declaration, Harry had a deer in the headlights look on his face. Fleur heard it too and was confused by what he had said. Clearing his throat, Harry replied to Ragnok in his best "Lord" voice. "I thank you for your welcome, Your Majesty King Ragnok. However, I'm unsure as to why you addressed me as Prince. I thought that I am simply a Lord." Ragnok was confused by Harry's question. "Surely Your Highness, you know what the silver ring on your ring finger denotes? We goblins are taught all about the historical seals of the ancient Wizarding families. On your ring finger, lies the personal seal of Queen Morgana Le Fey of Camelot. This ring was forged from mithril and the finest purple diamonds in the land by my ancestor, Ragnok Goldsword I, the first King of the Goblin Nation. It was a gift that signified deep mutual respect between the Nation and Queen Le Fey. She was one of the first among human magicals who fought for our rights to be seen as equals. She respected our talents in metalwork and warfare. Many do not know this, but the armor of Mordred's army was forged by our master armorsmiths. The sword that killed Arthur Pendragon was a weapon made by my ancestor the Goblin King. Mordred Le Fey had promised us equal standing once he became King of Camelot, so we backed his fight for the throne. While he ultimately lost, both sides were utterly devastated, and Camelot splintered upon Arthur's passing. While unfortunate, it did not affect the status that Queen Morgana held as Ally of the Nation. The ring was said to have been passed on to Mordred's son but was somehow lost in time. We of the Nation were taught one thing though. If the ring ever reappeared, the wizard who wore it would be officially designated as the Royal Prince Le Fey. Along with the title and the treatment that came along with it, they would also enjoy their ancestor's status as Ally of the Nation. So I congratulate you for being deemed a worthy successor, Your Highness."
Fleur had listened in shock to the hidden history of the Nation's friendship with the Dark Lady Morgana Le Fey. Her history teacher in Beauxbatons had mentioned how she was known as the Mother of the Dark Arts, whose son singlehandedly destroyed the kingdom of Camelot. To find out that Harry was not only her descendant but also Prince Le Fey was something she could barely comprehend. Harry on the other hand just sighed in resignation. He should've known that something like this would happen. When Morgana Le Fey had told him she was his ancestor, he should have expected something to come out of that conversation. He would be sure to question her properly the next time he went into the grimoire's dream realm. Right now, he needed to rest. "Thank you very much for informing me of my status and curing me of my ignorance, King Ragnok. None of that 'Your Highness' formality. To my friends, I will always be just Harry. I hope to continue the close relationship between the Nation and House Le Fey. With your aid, I am sure that we will be able to triumph over the Dark Lord Voldemort. It has been a very long day, with many revelations. I would like to get some rest as tomorrow, we will need to start planning our next move." Ragnok gracefully accepted his thanks with a nod and responded. "You are welcome, Harry. The Nation would be honored to stand with you against the Dark Lord who would see us all killed or enslaved. You have the word of the Goblin King that we will honor our alliance with the House Le Fey." Harry nodded and thanked him in turn. "You have my word as Prince Le Fey, that I will follow in the footsteps of my ancestors, and fight for your rights to be seen as equal to witches and wizards once this war is over." Ragnok gave a toothy smile as he held out his hand. "I look forward to our cooperation. May our vaults overflow with gold and our enemies fall to our swords." Taking his hand, Harry replied. "Let our enemies cower at our name, and our cooperation be fruitful." With a shake to seal the deal, Ragnok guided them back to the cart and they sped back to the surface.
Exiting the cart, Ragnok guided them through the hallway to a hospital room with beds lining the walls. "It is currently nearing 7:00 PM, so dinner will be served shortly. Please take some time to get some rest and recover. We can start our planning on the morrow." Thanking him, Harry kicked off his shoes before collapsing onto the bed. He thought back to the trials and pondered about what all he had learned. Fleur chose to occupy the bed beside him and was currently staring at him unabashedly. Slightly annoyed by her staring, he turned his gaze to her and raised an eyebrow.
Blushing a little, she started speaking. "Harry, what exactly happened in the vault? You passed the test of the Peverells, but how did you become a prince? The Le Fey line was thought extinct, so how is it possible?" Harry thought a little bit before answering. He trusted Fleur, but they were currently at Gringotts, so he couldn't just speak about the sentience of the grimoire. If the wrong person found out, then it could result in him losing a major advantage. He made sure to be deliberate with his words as he spoke. "The unification of the Hallows was only the second trial. I had to withdraw all of my memories and deposit it into a Pensieve so my ancestor's portrait could judge the worthiness of my character. Upon being deemed worthy, he named me Lord Peverell and allowed me to take the grimoire's test. I was thrown into an illusion that sought to make me give in and live forever in a dream world. I was able to see through it, so I passed the grimoire's test, and the judge was my ancestor Morgana Le Fey. She congratulated me on passing her test, so I took the grimoire and left the vault."
It sounded complete, but Fleur wasn't fooled by it. "Harry, I know that you're not telling me something. Are you sure nothing bad happened in there? You came out looking emotionally drained. So much so that I could feel the pain emanating from your magic. Something happened inside that made you unhappy. Please, tell me. You can trust me with anything, the bond makes sure of it. Please, Harry. Talk to me so I can help you." He tried his best to ignore her impassioned plea. He lasted all of a minute before her puppy eyes made him give up. "The illusion I was in was the most life-like I've ever experienced. My parents were alive. I was Head Boy and Quidditch Captain my 7th year at Hogwarts. I fell in love with and married a beautiful girl who loved me for who I am. I had four children with her who I loved with all my heart. They all grew up in a safe world without Voldemort and went on to do great things. It was so enchanting, so perfect, Fleur. I almost lost myself in it because of how desperately I wanted all of those things. Only to realize that I'll never be able to have any of them because Voldemort won't stop until I'm dead. He and his Death Eaters have already killed everyone I ever loved like family. He won't hesitate to target anybody I want to care for, so I can't afford to fall in love. I can't afford to marry and have children. Being so close to it. Experiencing the feeling of what could have been was a little too much for me. Even if I passed the test, I feel empty inside, because I got to live my dream only to have it ripped away from me by reality. That's why I'm sad, Fleur. I just want it all to end. I want to be with my parents and Sirius. There's nothing left for me here."
Fleur sat quietly as she heard his tale. As he finished with his conclusions, he could hear her sniffling. Looking up, he saw tears running down her face as more pooled in her eyes. She got up and swiftly slapped him across the face. Harry's eyes were wide in shock as a stinging pain assaulted the left side of his face. He turned his head back, only to have Fleur tackled him down onto the bed. She straddled him with a fierce expression on her face as she ranted. "Nothing left for you?! What about me?! Your friends Neville and Luna?! What about all the people that believe in you and would follow you in the fight against Voldemort! You're just going to abandon them?! I understand that your life has been terrible so far Harry, but you cannot give up! We will always be there for you. So please, promise me you won't do anything stupid. Please, Harry."
Her passionate speech made him feel ashamed. He hadn't been thinking about all the people who were counting on him. He was behaving like a selfish child, which wouldn't help in the war. He had to fight and kill Snakeface. The prophecy spoke of the final battle, so it would eventually happen. It would be just him and Voldemort. Merlin, he was so fucking outclassed it wasn't even funny. If he wanted any chance of being able to fight, he would have to work harder than ever before. His enemies wouldn't give him a break, so he would push himself to his limits and exceed them. He would undergo whatever ritual he needed to go through and gain the power to kill the Dark Tosser once and for all.
His eyes intensely gazed at Fleur as he made his decision. "Thank you for that, Fleur. I needed to get my head straight and you helped immensely. You reminded me of all the people that are counting on me to lead them. I can't let them down. I'll fight with all I have." Fleur had a gentle smile on her face as she heard him. "Now let's get to bed early. We have a lot of work to do tomorrow." He embraced Fleur and pulled her down next to him. She seemed surprised by his forwardness but didn't complain. Closing his eyes, he let go of all his fears for the future and the stress of the burden he would have to endure. His nose was filled with nothing but the scent of vanilla and strawberries as his consciousness drifted away.
Ragnok had stood beside the entrance, watching the drama unfold. Hearing about the illusion that had nearly broken Harry had caused him to wince. The Illusory Arts were one of the most deadly fields of magic to dabble in. Even the Nation had forbidden any experimentation with it, as it had a tendency to ensnare and trap those of weak will. When he mentioned how he broke through the illusion, Ragnok had nothing but respect for him. Lesser men would have succumbed to the trap, especially one who's life had been like Harry's. That he dispelled the illusion showed that Harry had an iron will. That was something any goblin would respect, even in a wizard. He heard Harry thank Fleur Delacour and embrace her before falling asleep. He took a quick peek before ordering that they not be disturbed.
Walking back to his office, he sported a feral grin on his face. Upon entering, he went for the sword mounted behind his desk. Unsheathing it from the scabbard, he checked the edge and found that it had dulled slightly. He would need to make sure that it was sharpened and ready for a fight at all times. It had been a long time since wizards had been foolish enough to attack the Nation. He couldn't wait to wet his blade with their blood as his ancestors had done before him. He retrieved his armor from the chest behind his desk and started to clean it. It would see much use in the future, of that he had no doubt.