An hour later, Harry exited Lucius' office in high spirits. He was pleased with the outcome of the meeting, as was Tom. Lucius had been reluctant at first. But after Tom and Harry had filled him in on Dumbledore's set up and the false prophecy, the reluctance had begun to crumble. Severus' presence certainly had helped as well. In the end, Lucius had pledged to continue honouring the vow he had sworn the day he had turned seventeen. Thus, he would do everything in his power to assist the Dark Lord and Harry. He had gladly offered the ritual room of Malfoy Manor and his assistance in the ritual itself. One less thing to worry about.
With Severus in tow, Harry re-entered the ballroom of Malfoy Manor. Only about a dozen guests of the traditional Yule Ball were still scattered across the massive room. Since all of the more influential guests and his friends had already left, Harry decided that it was best to return to Hogwarts. Afterall, it was well beyond midnight. But before he could make his way to the floo, a voice made him turn around, "Harry, I thought you had left already. Where have you been all this time?"
"I was talking to your father, Draco," Harry said, turning to the heir of the Malfoy family, "it took a bit longer than expected. I take it that the others have left already, right?"
But before Draco could answer, the silky voice of his father echoed through the hallway, "Draco, why aren't you in bed yet?"
Draco spun on his heels to face his father, only for his jaw to drop. The usually immaculate Lucius Malfoy had faint bags underneath his eyes, his blonde mane was slightly dishevelled, and his robes hadn't been straightened yet – all in all a look rarely seen on a Malfoy. With eyes open wide, Draco continued to stare at the Lord of the Malfoy family, "Father… what… happened…"
"To bed, Draco, now!" Lucius silenced his son, his silky tone turning steely, "Mister Potter, I bid you farewell. May your path be blessed by Magic herself."
"May yours be equally prosperous, Lord Malfoy," Harry said, politely returning the traditional Pureblood gesture before making his way to the floo. He felt the eyes of both Malfoys on him as he threw a pinch of floo power in the fireplace. The moment he arrived at Severus' office back at Hogwarts, he was sure that Draco would send him an owl demanding an explanation to what had happened between Harry and his father. Not that he would be told the truth. Luckily, they wouldn't meet face to face until the end of the holidays. This would give Harry enough time to come up with a plausible alternative story. But for now, he had other things to worry about. Like the library he had to go to.
After a curt farewell to Severus who arrived moments later, Harry rushed to the dungeons. Once inside the dorm, he quickly changed out of his dress robes and into much sturdier attire. He then grabbed his map and quietly hissed its password. Dumbledore seemed to be patrolling the corridors close to the library. Just as anticipated. After another quiet hiss, Harry shoved the deactivated map in his pocket and threw the invisibility cloak over himself.
He had a Headmaster to play with.
Out in the hallways, he came across nobody. But the lack of people did not trick Harry. He was being monitored. But not by any teachers, ghosts, portraits, Filch or his flea-bitten feline. By the time he had reached the library, Harry had counted fourteen Monitoring Charms specifically crafted to alert the caster whenever Harry had passed. Dumbledore appeared to be eager tonight, clearly not letting anything up to chance.
Sensing that Dumbledore was close, Harry silently unlocked the door of the library. He strode past rows and rows filled to the brim with ancient tomes, his feet not making a single sound on the ebon floorboards, until he reached the Restricted Section. Oddly, the door was lacking its usual protective Charms and could be unlocked by a simple Alohomora. It was too easy. Rolling his eyes at the Headmaster's schemes, Harry quickly flicked his Blackthorn wand at the door and entered the Restricted Section.
A minute later, Harry had reached his destination. He now stood in front of an inconspicuous shelf in the back of the Restricted Section. Subtly reaching out his magic, Harry quickly managed to locate the book Dumbledore wanted him to pull off the shelf. It was an ancient tome, bound in dark leather and oddly enough one of the only books in the library with a faint taint of Dark magic underneath the many layers of Anti-Theft, Monitoring and Compulsion Charms. The Charms would immediately alert the Headmaster once the book had been touched, whereas a Compulsion Charm would latch itself onto Harry persuading him to flee to an unused classroom on the first floor. Also, a standard Anti-Theft Charm would go off once the book had been touched.
After he had disabled the Compulsion Charm, Harry finally grabbed the book. Seconds later, an ear-piercing scream echoed through the Restricted Section. Having anticipated this, Harry quickly placed the screaming book back on its shelf and headed for the exit of the library. On the way out, he quietly passed Filch and Misses Norris, evaded Severus and Quirrell a corridor ahead, and ducked past Peeves who was juggling parts of a suit of armour that was begging the poltergeist to stop. Chuckling to himself, Harry stopped in front of the door of the classroom Dumbledore had wanted him to discover. Sensing the approaching Headmaster, Harry pushed the door open while disabling more Compulsions that were attached to the door.
The room was empty with the exception of a massive mirror. Immediately, Harry's hair stood on end. The mirror with its clawed feet was drenched in Light magic. Truly revolting, mind-altering Light magic. Tom didn't need to warn him. The mirror was dangerous. Carefully stepping closer, Harry lowered his Invisibility Cloak and tried to decipher the engravings on the silvery, ornate frame of the mirror.
Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi.
Closing his eyes, Harry took a calming breath. There was nothing he would rather do than run. But he knew that he had to stay and face the mirror. The artefact which had enchanted so many by showing the most desperate desire of a person's heart. Eventually, it had driven them all to madness. The legendary Mirror of Erised.
I show not your face but your heart's desire.
Such an innocent statement, yet it couldn't be more deceiving. It was a malevolent creation. People had been trapped in front of the mirror, their lives withering away with their minds ensnared by scenarios of grandeur and impossible feats, yet most were nothing but illusions.
Harry didn't want to be here. Unfortunately, it would arouse suspicion if he left without looking into the mirror. The Compulsions on the entrance of the classroom were specifically tailored to induce Harry to look at the deceiving mirror. Feeling Dumbledore entering the room, Harry was left with no other choice but to face the legendary Mirror of Erised.
What he saw did not surprise him.
Harry saw an older version of himself standing right next to a tall man with pale skin and jet-black hair. His high cheekbones perfectly accentuated the deep crimson eyes that so perfectly clashed with the vibrant green of Harry's own eyes.
"Tom, are you seeing this, too?" Harry asked through their mental link, not sure how much time had passed.
"Us… Only the two of us," Tom finally brought out, equally taken aback by the intoxicating yet toxic magic of the mirror, "two against the world."
Harry's lips curled into a mischievous smile at those words. At this moment, he was more than glad that the mirror in front of him didn't show his reflection. After relishing in the wonderful feeling of seeing him and Tom together, Harry gathered all his willpower to tear his eyes off the Mirror of Erised. With great struggle he succeeded. Instead of directly facing the mirror, Harry spun around, his eyes open wide in surprise while tears started flowing down his face, "Mom? Dad?"
Forcing his facial features through a rapid succession of hope, shock, disbelief and disappointment, Harry stared at the seemingly empty room ahead of him. And then, he slowly turned back to the mirror. But instead of gazing inside the poisonous depths of the mirror, Harry kept his eyes firmly glued on its frame. Taking a deep breath, he raised a hand. Pointing his shaking hand at the mirror, Harry began to speak, a slight tremor in his voice, "This… This is not real… They… they're dead… a…a…and nothing… nothing can bring th…them back… You're showing… no…nothing… b…b…but illusions!"
Harry then quickly turned on his heels, pulled his Invisibility Cloak back over his head and fled past a still Disillusioned Dumbledore. He ran until he was sure that he had activated a few of Dumbledore's Monitoring Charms. The aging Headmaster would be under the impression that his golden pawn was on his way back to the dungeons. But Harry and Tom had different plans.
With a silent wave of his hand, Harry unlocked an unused classroom somewhere on the second floor once they were sure to be beyond Dumbledore's magical reach. Inside, Harry pulled off the Invisibility Cloak and magically sent it back to his dorm. He then quickly cloaked himself with layers and layers of Disillusion, Anti-Detection, Notice-Me-Not and Magic-Concealment Charms – all high-level Charms and performed with Parselmagic. He would be much more agile and less restrained with the Charms as opposed to using the cloak. Once finished, Harry pulled his magical map out of his pocket. He quickly spotted the dot he was searching for. The dot with the name Albus Dumbledore was still on the first floor yet clearly moving towards the staircase. With unfathomable glee, Harry and Tom watched as the dot moved up the stairs and entered the forbidden third-floor corridor on the right-hand side.
Finally.
Tom's and Harry's eyes were glued on the map as the dot with the old fool's name attached to it entered the room with the massive Cerberus. The dot then quickly made its way past one obstacle after another, effectively disabling the protective measures. It didn't take Dumbledore long to reach the final chamber. Once he was in there, the map began to list spell after spell Dumbledore cast.
"He's modifying the magic of the mirror," Harry exclaimed in realisation, "those high-level Light Spells he's using… It's the only explanation."
"It is most likely," Tom stated after a moment of contemplation, "we will soon find out."
A feral smile appeared on Harry's face as he watched Dumbledore layering the final chamber with Protective and Monitoring Spells. They would indeed soon find out.
Almost an hour later, Harry and Tom watched as Dumbledore finally left the forbidden corridor on the third floor and made his way up to his private quarters. By that point, both of them were giddy in excitement. Once the old coot had finally entered the Headmaster's office, Harry left the unused classroom on the second floor he had been hiding in. With the map in his hand, he quickly headed for the staircase. Soon, he was standing in front of the first chamber of the magical obstacle course. Reaching out his magic, Harry sensed the additional protections that had been placed on the door. Without further ado, he quickly disabled them with his Parselmagic.
Once inside the first chamber, he found himself opposite a tail-wagging, slobbering Cerberus. Harry raised his eyebrows as the vicious creature, instead of attacking him, simply rolled over and presented him with its belly. Quietly chuckling to himself, Harry began to pet Fluffy. Maybe that name fit better than he had originally thought. So far, the vicious beast had been nothing but sweet and gentle whenever Harry had visited throughout the last few months.
Once the Cerberus had been sufficiently cuddled, Harry moved on to the next part of the ridiculous obstacle course. Having already been down there, he made quick progress and soon entered the final chamber. His presumptions had been right. The Mirror of Erised now stood in front of him.
Because of the monitoring function of the map, Tom and Harry had a faint idea of what Dumbledore had done to the mirror. Still, that wasn't enough to determine what the old coot had done exactly. Taking a deep breath, Harry slowly and carefully reached out his magic. His eyes were closed to not be perturbed by his heart's desire mirrored ahead of him. Fractions of a second later, an unpleasant shiver ran down his spine as his magic faintly brushed against the toxic magic of the legendary magical artefact. It took every bit of self-restraint and encouragement by Tom to delve further into the multi-layered magic of the mirror.
Slowly but steadily, the different layers of the mirror unravelled themselves as Tom and Harry pushed past the surface apparitions and deeper and deeper into the mirror. It truly would have been an impressive piece of magic hadn't it been for the enticing and alluring nature of the toxic Light magic of the Mirror of Erised. But hidden behind the magic of the mirror, there was something more.
Something Dark.
Something very Dark.
Yet pure at the same time.
The Philosopher's Stone.
It was indeed there.
Harry was about to make a move, when Tom suddenly stopped him. Just in time. Harry had almost fallen for one of Dumbledore's traps as he had been about to reach out his magic to get the stone.
"How clever yet so typically Dumbledore," Tom mused, "only somebody who wants to find the stone, find but not use it, will be able to get it out of the mirror. This should be surprisingly easy for us once we've disabled those Monitoring Spells. Don't you agree, Harry?"
Without further ado, Harry's Parselmagic tore through the magical protections surrounding the stone. Once the protections had been temporarily disabled, Harry pulled his magic back. Only then did he finally open his eyes and stepped in front of the mirror. Every neuron of his brain was focussed on one thing and one thing only – finding the stone. But not for himself. He had to find the stone for Tom. For Tom only.
After some tense seconds, Harry suddenly felt a weight in his pocket that hadn't been there moments prior. And then, he felt the true magnitude of the power of the Philosopher's Stone.
Before, the power of the stone had been cloaked by the Mirror of Erised. But now that the stone was in his pocket, the power of the mirror seemed to considerably pale in contrast to the stone. The stone was truly powerful and now, both Tom and Harry could understand why so many had tried yet failed to go after the stone or recreate its powers. Tom burned to explore the stone and fathom its secrets and knew that Harry felt the same. But for now, it was better to get out of the chamber.
Once he had torn his attention off the stone, Harry quickly pointed his illegal Alder wand at the empty space ahead of him and started to chant in Parseltongue. Slowly, a sphere started to materialise. It soon started to shift, getting more solid and gaining a red tint. Pushing his magic into the orb, Harry began to mould it after the stone in his pocket.
Ten minutes later, he held a perfect copy of the Philosopher's Stone in his hand. Only upon close inspection one would realize that this was a fake. Without further ado, Harry magically pushed the fake stone inside the mirror. Another push of his magic later, and the protections were back in place. Before leaving the chamber, he quickly cloaked the magic of the stone. It was better if the presence of the stone outside this very chamber went unnoticed.
Some time later, Harry finally found himself back opposite a tail-waving yet noticeably tired Fluffy. Although the Cerberus seemed happy to see him, it only lifted its three heads for a moment before going back to sleep.
By the time Harry had reached the Slytherin common room, a quick Tempus revealed that breakfast would start in only an hour. It had been a late night for sure. Sighing to himself, Harry made his way to the dorm. With a few hisses in Parseltongue, the hidden compartment of his trunk opened. After having placed the stone inside, Harry shut the compartment and warded it with the strong Parselmagic. He doubted that anyone would manage to break the wards. He then let himself fall on the bed not bothering to undress and let sleep take him.
Hours later, Harry opened his eyes again feeling well rested. A Tempus revealed that lunch would start soon. After a quick shower, he was on his way to the Great Hall. Usually, he would simply skip lunch in favour of working on the resurrection ritual, but today sleep had been more important than keeping up his daily routine. He was sure that his appearance would raise a few eyebrows. And it sure did.
"Mister Potter, how unusual to see you here," Professor McGonagall promptly greeted him as Harry was about to slip on the bench as far away from any Weasley as possible which meant sitting close to the teachers. Forcing a faint blush on his face, Harry lowered his head, "Good morning, professor."
"Well," the stern woman began, "I take it you returned from Malfoy Manor a bit later than expected?"
Blood rushed into Harry's face as he answered with a slightly hesitant undertone, "Yes, professor."
"I'm happy that you enjoyed yourself, Mister Potter," McGonagall said much to his surprise, "I'm happy to see you deviating from your schedule and enjoying yourself once in a while. I'm sure if you continue this way, you'll have devoured the entire library by the end of your second year. Madam Pince insists that no student has ever shown such a keen interest for knowledge and books than you, Mister Potter. Not even Miss Granger."
Turning and lowering his head in feigned embarrassment, Harry caught the poised smile and twinkle of the Headmaster. Without doubt, the man was sure that he had set up Harry perfectly last night in one of his grand schemes. He wouldn't smile for long though.
After lunch, Harry was once again followed by the Weasley twins. Not in the mood for one of their cat and mouse games, he simply hissed at one of the hidden passages built by Salazar Slytherin himself and was soon standing in front of the entrance to the common room. Once inside his dorm, he opened his trunks. Before starting to investigate the stone, he set up the magical crystals. He had no intention of having any of the possible Dark magic required to break the different layers of the stone being locked by the wards of the castle. Once the crystals had been set up, Tom and Harry began to examine the stone.
Upon first glance, the stone was nothing special, at least if you ignored the simmering and pulsating magic inside. The ruby-red stone with it's rough and uneven surface easily fitted into his hand. But the appearance was deceiving. There was much more to the Philosopher's Stone and Tom and Harry were determined to uncover its secrets. It would be necessary for the ritual to work.
In the end, it took almost two days to unravel the countless magical layers and secrets of the stone. To say that Tom was surprised by their discovery was putting it mildly. But honestly, he should have expected it. Although he had delved into the ancient and mysterious arts of Alchemy, Nicolas Flamel had taken his research much further. If the Wizarding World would only know what he had done, people wouldn't speak so fondly of him anymore.
"I can't believe it," Harry exclaimed, once they had unravelled the last magical layers of the stone.
"And neither can I," Tom said, deep in thoughts, "but actually, I shouldn't be that surprised. After all, Alchemy is all about perfect harmony between its different components. Taking the effect of the Elixir of Life into consideration, in order to give life…"
"…life first has to be taken," Harry concluded, his voice failing to masquerade the horror evoked by the true nature of the Philosopher's Stone. Despite all the horrible things he had done in his life, even Tom was feeling uneasy as he was staring at the stone and the old Sanskrit and Babylonian runes etched underneath its surface.
From what they had figured out, the stone wasn't actually a mineral but the crystallised heart of a phoenix, one of the strongest and most powerful creatures alive. Instead of dying, they would burst into flames at outstretched intervals of time and shortly afterwards rise from the ashes, regaining their initial power and beauty. Because of that, they were basically immortal and thus, considered a symbol of life. How Flamel had managed to obtain the heart of such a creature was a miracle. Tom had never heard of a Phoenix dying naturally or being killed. Let alone one that had willingly donated his heart to an Alchemist. They were also extremely smart and thus, wouldn't be deceived easily. It was a miracle indeed.
But what Flamel had done to the heart of the phoenix was even more so.
The heart of one of the lightest creatures there is had been drenched with layers upon layers of runes and Dark magic to serve two purposes – to absorb ' life ' and to give it back by producing the Elixir of Life. The first step might sound innocent at first, but the truth was much more gruesome and macabre. 'Life' referred to blood as the elixir vitae – the conductor of life. And for the magic of the stone to work, it required every drop of blood of a living sentient being, preferably a human being, to be absorbed. But one living sacrifice wasn't enough. According to Flamel's definition of a sufficient amount of ' life' , this referred to a very specific and powerful magical number of lives.
Seven hundred and seventy-seven lives to be precise.
Even in Tom's books, that was quite a large number. How had somebody as known and as popular as Nicolas Flamel managed to kill such a large number of people and drain their blood without anyone noticing? Then again, Flamel had created the stone during the Middle Ages, a period of wars, crusades, civil unrest and the Black Plague. A lot of people had died young and unexpectedly. Maybe that explained the disappearance of so many. Still, 777 was quite a large number. And Flamel certainly hadn't only killed knights and terminally ill people beyond saving. Among his victims were innocent children, pregnant women, peaceful farmers, hard workers, cruel tyrants and helpless elders – both magical and non-magical. Although long since gone, their signatures were still locked deep inside the Philosopher's Stone.
Tom wondered why Flamel had gone to such lengths to create the stone. Sure, avoiding death was always a keen motivator, yet Tom himself had achieved that with far less murders on his hands. Probably, he would never know why Flamel had done it. And there were far more important things to worry about, like the exact properties of the Elixir of Life.
After both had digested the hidden secrets of the Philosopher's Stone, Tom and Harry continued to focus on the resurrection ritual. Once they had extracted a sufficient amount of the elixir, they began to examine the magical substance. It was a tedious process, but luckily Tom had experience working with unknown magical artefacts, ingredients and substances. Also, Harry had quite a good grasp on the theory of potions and to a certain extent alchemy. In the end, they had ascertained the exact properties of the elixir fairly quickly. Having two minds working and focusing on the same problem certainly had its merits.
After that, they spent the remainder of the holidays working on the resurrection ritual, incorporating the Elixir of Life.
Most days were the same. Waking up early. An hour of exercise followed by a quick shower. Breakfast in the nearly empty Great Hall. Working on the ritual in the common room. Dinner. And even more time working on the resurrection ritual before exhaustion took over.
The only time Harry and Tom deviated from that routine was on New Year's Eve. Severus had paid him a visit earlier that day. The Potions Master had kindly reminded him what day it actually was and that he couldn't miss the traditional festivities or people might start asking questions. Harry had assured him that he had planned on attending anyway.
Hours later, Harry was asking himself why he had decided on attending again. Sitting in the Great Hall surrounded by nothing but Weasleys and a twinkling Headmaster was utterly dreadful. Once again, the traditional Wizarding customs had been forgone in favour of the Muggle customs. At least McGonagall subtle jabs at Sybil Trelawney were rather entertaining and Severus constant sneers and eye rolling made the evening bearable to a certain extent. Finally, the clock striking midnight accompanied by the fireworks conjured by Dumbledore heralded the start of the new year. Once the spectacle was over, the few students that had remained at the castle were told to go to bed. But Harry had different plans.
Instead of returning to the dungeons, he ducked into an alcove somewhere close to the kitchens to layer himself with Disillusionment, Notice-Me-Not, Noise-Cancelling and Scent-Cloaking Charms. Once all Charms had been set, he headed straight for his destination – the statue of the one-eyed witch, Gunhilda of Gorsemoor, by the stairs to the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom on the third floor. Dodging teachers and Dumbledore himself on the way, Harry quietly tapped his illegal Alder wand at the statue muttering Dissendium under his breath. With an almost inaudible click, the hump on the witch's statue opened to reveal a short slide into a tunnel. Hearing feet approaching, Harry quickly entered and closed the entrance behind him.
Ten minutes later, he finally felt the oppressive weight of the wards surrounding Hogwarts being lifted off his shoulders. Without further ado, Harry turned on the spot and disappeared with a quiet crack.
" Good evening, Mister Potter," a snarky yet friendly voice greeted him in smooth Gobbledegook, "may the new year be a prosperous one for you."
"May the gold float for all eternity, Ironclaw," Harry replied the greeting with a respectful bow of his head. He had apparated straight into the private entrance hall of the Goblin bank. The right was usually reserved only for the Goblins themselves. But being a friend and ally of the Goblin race, Ragnok had keyed him into the wards of the bank's London branch and thus granted him direct access to apparate and disapparate on occasions like tonight.
"It will," the small Goblin replied with a sharp smile barring his sharp teeth, " if you would now please follow me, Mister Potter. Ragnok is awaiting you."
Moments later, he was led into the sparse yet lavish office of the manager of the Potter and Slytherin estates. Ragnok was sitting behind his desk, " Good evening, Harry. We, the Goblin nation hope that Magic will grace you in every way possible."
"And may your endeavours always be fruitful, Ragnok," Harry replied while taking the offered seat in front of the Goblin's desk. After a few words exchanged in rapid Gobbledegook, Ironclaw was dismissed. Once they were alone, Ragnok surveyed him with a sharp gaze before his stoic mask merged into an equally sharp smile, " I take it you managed to get the artefact we have corresponded about out of the school. Am I right?"
"Of course I have," Harry replied, a Cheshire grin suddenly gracing his face, " managed to sneak it right past the old fool. Had it in my pocket the entire night while sitting at the same table as the esteemed Headmaster."
Before him, the eyes of the Goblin grew wide, clearly not believing Harry's claims. Harry meanwhile reached for his pockets and without further ado, he placed the Philosopher's Stone on the desk between the two of them. For a brief second, the Goblin stifled before bursting into full belly laughter that lasted the next few minutes. Swiping the tears off his face, Ragnok finally regained his ability to talk, " Irontooth's Hammer! What a feat!"
"Indeed, it is! The old man won't know what hit him," Harry chuckled before turning serious, "anyway, before we start negotiations, I wanted to inform you that I have extracted a sufficient amount of the elixir and thus will not require the stone anytime soon. Therefore, I entrust you and in extension the Goblin nation to ensure the stone's safety. For keeping the stone safe, I in turn grant you unlimited access to the stone's power."
Ragnok looked stunned for a moment until his lips twitched to reveal his sharp teeth as he turned all business, " I think it's time to draw up a contract."
Hours later, Harry apparated back to the tunnel hidden behind the statue of the one-eyed witch, his pockets empty. The legendary Philosopher's Stone now resided in the ancient Peverell vaults well beyond Dumbledore's reach. Neither Tom nor Harry had felt comfortable keeping the stone at Hogwarts longer than absolutely necessary. Now that they had uncovered its secrets and extracted enough Elixir of Life, it was better that the stone was gone and kept safe. And who better to trust than the Goblins?
On the day before the students were set to return to the castle, Harry was seemingly lounging in the common, three stacks of parchment in front of him, when Severus entered the room. Looking up from the floor once the Potions Master had stopped in front of him, Harry tilted his head, his lips curled, "I'm aware that the students return tomorrow."
"Are you?" Severus sneered before looking at the three stacks of parchment, "have the two of you gone even more insane? How can that wretched ritual evolve into something even more complicated?"
"You're wrong, Severus," Harry replied with a sugary sweet smile, "what you're looking at are three rituals. Not one."
"Three?" the Potions Master parroted, his jaw slightly unhinged and eyes wide.
"Yes, three," Harry confirmed, his smile only growing brighter, "three finished resurrection rituals. Don't worry, we're only performing one. Which one depends on several factors. But before we move on to that, let me first explain a few things to you. The rituals themselves are quite similar. They only differ at a few stages, mostly regarding the brewing process and the runes used during the actual resurrection."
"But why?" Severus suddenly interrupted him.
"It's mainly because of the outcome of the ritual," Harry replied bluntly, "let me show you."
With that, he grabbed the first stack of parchment and began to explain, "As you can see, this ritual features three distinct brewing stages connected to the three moon phases it takes to complete the potion. Before you ask, all three rituals take exactly three moon cycles to brew. Besides, all three require to be brewed in an iron cauldron with a special liquid fire crystal coating. As you can see, the potion base consists of thrice purified water which is then mixed with Re'em Blood. The brewing has to begin on a full moon. The potion is then slowly brought to a boil while adding the freshly powdered moonstone. I don't have to add that, this first step is extremely complicated given the delicate nature of the moonstone. Finely chopped hellebore and dittany are then added in equal parts before the heat is reduced and the potion is let to simmer for an hour. Meanwhile, the potion is stirred seven times anti-clockwise every ten minutes. After that, the temperature is raised slightly for the valerian root and the asphodel to be added. In order to balance the latest two ingredients, bloodroot and deadlyius have to be dissolved fifteen minutes later. The inclusion of fluxweed, wormwood and dittany should be fairly easy, whereas the next step featuring the Runespoor eggs and powdered Dragon claw is…"
"…an extremely delicate process," Severus interrupted him, "I am a Potions Master if you had forgotten."
"As if we would trust anybody else with this potion," Harry snorted before turning serious again, "the other two rituals only vary slightly. You will soon see for yourself. Anyway, on the night of the second full moon, more powdered Dragon claws, hellebore and dittany are added to prepare the potion for the two most important ingredients of this brewing stage. Precisely 77 minutes after midnight, equal parts of Dark Phoenix tears and Basilisk venom have to be added. To complicate things, I, the donor of the blood, have to inject myself with both substances at the same time to ensure the compatibility of my blood and the potion. If I do not, my blood will be immediately dissolved if added to the potion on the night of the ritual and thus ruin the entire thing and…"
"Injecting yourself with Basilisk venom and Dark Phoenix tears?" Severus suddenly exclaimed, "are you suicidal?"
"Not if both ingredients are equally measured," Harry said, clearly unconcerned, "according to the ancient laws of Alchemy, Basilisk venom and Black Phoenix tears are the exact opposite. One is deadly poisonous, while the other is the strongest healing substance there is, even stronger than regular Phoenix tears. As long as the dosage is balanced, I should be fine since both will neutralise each other but in turn strengthen my blood enough to withstand being included in the potion."
Suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder and obsidian orbs boring into his eyes, "You cannot possibly be serious about this!"
"Am I a prisoner of Azkaban?" Harry sneered, "clearly I'm not. I'm much too careful for that. Trust me, we will not screw this up. Let's move on. Apart from regular stirs between the second and third full moon, the potion is mostly left to simmer. On the third full moon, the Elixir of Life is added. At that point, the Basilisk venom and the Dark Phoenix tears should have matured enough for the elixir to be integrated. During the next moon cycle, the ripening process slowly modifies the Elixir of Life developing the desired traits we need for the resurrection ritual. On the night of the ritual, which has to take place on the following full moon, the cauldron with the finished potion is placed at the centre of the rune circle. Let me show you."
With that, Harry produced the intricate layout of the rune circle out of the stack of parchment. Severus' eyes widened momentarily at the complex and interwoven sketch. The cauldron at its centre was surrounded by circles and circles of runes with the exception of two slightly smaller blank circles opposite each other.
"This circle is where I am going to stand," Harry said while pointing at the one to the right of the cauldron, "the other one is reserved for the servant offering his flesh. He also must be the one to add the bone of the father into the potion before sacrificing his own flesh before my blood is offered at last. But before all that, seven magical crystals have to be set up to power the ritual. I will activate them with Parselmagic while Lucius and maybe another person will stabilise the rune circle from the outside. Once my blood is added, everything should work out."
Silence followed. Of course, Harry had left out quite a few steps. He had only explained the most important things. There was no need to talk about all 777 stirs and every single rune. Severus was smart enough to follow the instructions for the brewing process by himself. Suddenly, a frown appeared on the Potions Master's face. Without another word, Harry handed him the stack of parchment containing the instructions for the first ritual. After almost half an hour had passed, Severus finally looked up from the instruction, "Why are you adding powdered Dragon claws twice? And what about these runes?"
Following the gaze of Severus, Harry easily realized which runes the Potions Master was referring to. The man really was clever. A Cheshire grin graced his face as he answered, "Very well spotted, Severus. Both questions actually are interlinked. The runes emphasize the effect of the powdered Dragon claws. Powdered Dragon claws in turn are commonly used to increase the consumer's brain functions. What isn't commonly known is that the powder stimulates and intensifies the bond between soul and magic."
"I've never heard of that!" Severus said, his eyes narrowed in scepticism, "and what utilisation could that serve in a ritual such as this?"
"That, my dear Severus, is the reason why there are three rituals," Harry spoke with a dangerously alluring voice as his Avada-green eyes turned a deep crimson, "since there is no flesh, no bones or any organic matter in general left of my body since it all disintegrated in front of my very eyes as the Killing Curse hit me, there is no proper anchor left to sculpt my body after. In this case, the inclusion of powdered Dragon claws and the specific rune sequence would ensure that my future body is moulded after the last form my soul had resided in before my demise."
Severus in front of him paled, a look of horror appearing on his face, "But…"
"Not my most appealing form. I'm aware of that," Tom said, rolling his eyes, "that's why there are two alternatives. In general, the ritual can be altered to put emphasis on the four major human components."
"What about the others?" Severus almost asked pleadingly.
"The second one requires for an additional bone of my father being added to the potion three weeks into the third brewing cycle," Tom sneered, his magic dancing around him in anger, "obviously I'm not too keen to look even more like my dear dead father than I already did. But at least, I would look human again."
To that, Severus silently nodded his head.
"Anyway," Tom continued, "the fourth option is out of the way. Explaining a carbon copy of Harry is just too bothersome, leaving only one other option…"
"The servant," Severus suddenly breathed out, "but... you… you wouldn't…"
Tom tilted his head to the side and eyed the Potions Master critically, "Wouldn't do what, Severus? That I would never lower myself to align myself to my most trusted? That's where you are wrong, my slippery friend, because the idea behind it is quite genius. Let me explain why. If seven drops of the servant's blood are added to the potion a week before the actual ritual, my new body would include certain trademarks of the servant's line. While still being me, I would even be included on the family tree of the donor."
"That's impossible!" Severus exclaimed.
"No, it isn't," Tom replied with a sharp smile, "I've talked with the Goblins about it and they have ensured me that it would work. They have also provided me with this. It's a perfect plan actually. But take a look at it yourself, Severus. After all, this affects you and you only, since I wouldn't trust anyone else except you."
Severus' eyes almost popped out of their sockets as he accepted the single sheet of parchment that displayed the Prince family tree.
"Look," Tom said, while pointing out a specific branch of the tree, "while I know that you are the only living descendent of the Prince line, the Goblins could easily declare me to be a long lost member of the line, specifically this one."
Severus followed the finger of the Dark Lord that had stopped just below a particular name, "My Lord, you… you can't…"
"Oh, Severus, I am indeed serious, although currently NOT incarcerated," Tom said before Harry could push to the front to deliver his favourite joke, "Harry and I have discussed this extensively. We are both sure that it could work. But in the end, you have to decide, Severus. Only you can do that. We are not forcing this upon you, although we would much appreciate it if you would agree. You have until Easter to decide. Meanwhile, Harry and I will gather the required ingredients and equipment."
"Thank you, my Lord," Severus somehow managed to bring out.
Tom rolled his eyes before dismissing the clearly shocked Potions Master.