Previously on Defiance…
Far away in the sandy world of Egypt, an old man stood in front of a huge fortress that suddenly manifested in front of him. Beside him, stood two other people- one being the Supreme Mugwump, and the other being the very person who had freed him from Nurmengard. The magical fortress pulsed with eldritch energies as Gellert Grindelwald whispered some obscure incantations, as a great bridge manifested between them and the fortress.
"Welcome," he said in a dramatic voice, "To Castle Negrul. The Home to the Necromancer's Guild."
"Castle... Negrul? The original castle Negrul?" Dumbledore repeated with disbelief.
"What is this… castle, Professor?" Harry asked. He had removed his mask and was now standing beside Dumbledore and Grindelwald, with the latter still muttering some incantations as the bridge became more and more distinct and solid with time.
"Castle Negrul… is one of the many myths of the Wizarding World, Harry, like Myrrdin Emrys, the shackles of Doom, the staff of Galbraith, and many more. This castle… this was the place that had given rise to the beings of the dark... or at least that is the rumor. Apparently, Dementors, Lethifolds and all kinds of nightmarish creatures had entered the mortal world because of some kind of necromantic experiment gone wrong inside this castle."
Funny how rumors have the tendency to twist simple truths into obscure fiction.
You know something?
Ignotus had kept his word. The moment his job was over, Ignotus had apparated off to a random location and given up control. Harry had once again returned to his senses, and it would be unfair to say that the entire ordeal had been a little more than mildly painful.
The Castle Negrul was the very spot where necromancers had torn through the barriers of the mortal world to create a permanent gateway into the world of Death. A gateway that has ever since existed in this plane, and will exist forever.
You mean-
An archway, one that leads into the world of the Dead. A one-way path through which no soul has ever returned. When a person dies, his soul passes into the realm of Death, but the archway is such that a living person can be sent through it into the realm of death.
What happens to them?
They die. Their bodies instantly burn up in the black flames, leaving only the soul to journey forward. The laws of necromancy are fair. To receive, you must give in equal amounts. Nothing more. Nothing less. The Necromancers hosted the gateway at Castle Negrul, and in return, the Powers that be demanded the castle and its inhabitants to be sucked in forever, owing to the disrespect they had shown by trying to open a portal to the other world. Ever since then, Castle Negrul is always on the move, travelling across time and space, unable to stay up at any place or time beyond three minutes, because any more than that and the powers of Death would catch them. That is, Castle Negrul is neither here, nor there, but everywhere.
A castle that shifts across space and time? And I thought that Hagrid was crazy when he said that I was a wizard and could do magic.
Harry laughed inwardly. There was another question which he could not help but ask.
How do you know so much about it?
(Laugh.) Because I am the sailor who sails the boat, and ferries souls across to the realm of the dead. I am the watchman who makes sure that no one oversteps the boundaries and will do so until my contract is complete.
Contract…? What do you mean?
No reply…
Peverell? Peverell? What kind of contract?
Still no reply...
Damn…
The magic spawning across the entire castle stabilized for a moment, as the bridge turned completely solid. Grindelwald stepped in, as Harry and Dumbledore swiftly followed. He could feel the ambient magics in the very fabric of the castle which screamed out anything but natural. They were spatial and chronomantic magics, not unlike the ones used in time turners.
A huge, sprawling castle that jumps across time…
He crossed the huge bridge, walking behind the other two men as they walked forward, and the huge silvery door opened majestically, almost as if in recognition of their entrance. The door was adorned with a serpentine knob, reminding him of the Black Manor as he stepped in.
Inside was the largest chamber he had ever seen. The entire Hall was approximately twice that of the Hogwarts Great Hall and together with the ornate decorations all over the place, it did look like he had actually entered into some kind of cult-meeting.
You are in the altar of the oldest cult in existence, boy.
And there it was, his answer. He looked around. In one way, the Hall was strangely reminiscent of the Chamber of Secrets, what with the way the entire Hall was adorned with snake effigies, only that this time, they were not basilisks but runspoors. The three headed snakes looked livelier than possible and their beady eyes seemed to record and observe every minuscule movement in the room. He looked down on the floor and found himself staring into a humongous drawing of an Ouroboros… Wait, what was an Ouroborus?
The runic representation of immortality. The pinnacle of all runes in Necromancy. The Ouroboros.
Right.
Look above.
Harry looked up, and just like on the floor, was an identical drawing of a Ouroboros ostensibly similar to the one on the floor.
"As above, so below."
The sudden voice distracted Harry as he looked towards his left instantly. Standing in the shadows, was a hooded man wearing a deep gray robe. On closer look, an Ouroborus could be seen engraved all over the cloak's frontage.
"Excuse me?" Harry returned.
"As above, so below." The man repeated. "You were wondering about the ostensible similarity between the two drawings of the great snake. It is something we necromancers study here, the path of illumination across the multiple worlds."
"And Ouroboros helps you in that?"
The man smiled. "Ouroboros is infinity itself. We travel in infinity."
Ignoring the man's mystic remark, Harry cleared his throat. "I'm-"
"Harry Potter, for the moment. We know."
Harry narrowed his eyes. Could this man mean that he knew about-?
Whatever you do, do not lie to this man.
Harry felt surprised at the sudden way in which Ignotus had warned him. The bloodlust-crazy warlord never did that previously.
Heed my warning, boy. Steer clear of this man, and whatever you do, never, never lie to him.
Okay.
For some reason, the man smiled. Harry found it relatively scary. The man glanced at the other two occupants of the room. "Albus Dumbledore. Transfiguration-Master. Welcome to Castle Negrul."
Dumbledore nodded hesitantly. "Thank you for having us."
The man turned to look towards Gellert, and instantly the older man fell down and screamed in agony. The man did not even direct any amount of magical power but just stared at him. It was not Legilimency, whatever the man was doing, but it sure was incredibly deadly if it made Gellert Grindelwald of all people fall down and cry like a lost puppy.
"Gellert Grindelwald." The man replied finally. "The betrayer returns home at last. What did you think would happen when we discovered that you misused the knowledge we taught you to locate the Deathstick and become an aide to its destiny?"
Gellert screamed on.
"How many times had I mentioned that it was a futile attempt to try and gain its allegiance? That we necromancers should stay away from the artifacts of the Dead?"
If not for the way Grindelwald was whelping in agony, Harry would have thought that the man was just chiding him, what with the way his voice had a sort of… soothing tone in them.
"I had…taken… control over it." Gellert tried to reply, amidst his cries full of agony.
"You. Ignorant. Wizard. Do you still refuse to see the truth? If you held control over it, how could anyone else come and defeat you? So powerful, so learned, and yet… so close-minded. You are an insult on Necromancers, Gellert Grindelwald. May Seth come after you."
Gellert widened his eyes as he prostrated instantly, despite the raging pain in his nerves. "No-No-No-No-NOOOOOH! Anything but that! Anything but that!" He prayed.
"My word is my bond, Gellert." The man replied calmly. "As have I said, so mote shall it be. Seth shall come after you and drag your soul into the netherworld. Begone!" Instantly, a portal opened just beneath where Gellert had prostrated as it sucked him within, vanishing him out of existence.
"Wha- what happened to him?" Dumbledore replied. Harry was simply staring at the floor with shock. No one could ever have guessed that the floor had just swallowed a man whole.
"I threw him out of Negrul." The man replied calmly. "And now, one of you has to decide. Gellert had only one task left to him, and that was to bring the two of you here. However, Negrul doesn't accommodate two passengers, so one of you will have to depart too."
"Negrul?" Dumbledore queried.
Almost as if in answer, the humongous Ouroborus let out a feral hissing sound.
"That is Negrul. The spirit of the castle." The man replied. "Choose, Albus of Dumbledore, choose between yourself and young Harry Potter here. One shall stay, and one shall leave. Who shall it be?"
Harry almost sighed. He knew whom the old man would choose. He would choose himself.
"Harry."
Harry shot a look of surprise at him. Albus looked resigned. "Harry Potter shall stay, and I shall return. I had my chance to privileged information before, and I took the wrong decisions. Let it be his chance, this time. Besides, something tells me that in not choosing myself, I have made the best choice."
"Wise words, Albus of Dumbledore." The man answered.
"But our quest," Dumbledore pressed, "will we get the answers for which we came?"
"Yes." The man replied back. "You have my word. The betrayer did the last thing that he was supposed to do, and now, destiny will run its course."
Dumbledore nodded. Turning towards Harry, he nodded. "I will see you back down there."
Harry nodded back hesitantly.
"Very well," the man uttered, as his eyes glowed green as another portal opened, sucking Dumbledore deep within it, and soon, he had disappeared from sight. The man turned towards Harry and for the first time, looked into his eyes.
"So, Peverell, we meet at last."
Albus Dumbledore found himself standing in front of his ex-best friend and former nemesis, Gellert Grindelwald, once again. The portal had stranded both of them back into the midst of the great Sahara Desert, and found themselves literally in the middle of nowhere. Wherever he looked, he could only see sand and sand. There was no chance of apparation since it would not be possible to apparate over such a large distance. The only chance was to portkey.
"Old Friend," Gellert replied, "could you make me a portkey? I kept my word, after all."
"Why couldn't you make yours?" Albus questioned. It felt odd, talking to each other like that after all of that had happened.
"Because I cannot afford to use it here. I need to hide, for he will come hunting and smelling behind me. Please?" He begged. It was so uncharacteristic of the powerful dark lord Albus knew.
"Who is Seth?" Dumbledore questioned and Grindelwald winced.
"DO NOT UTTER HIS NAME!" The man yelled. "Please, I beg you. Make me a portkey and send me away. I only have… minutes."
Dumbledore picked up a stone and instantly created a portkey with a wave of his wand, and held it in his finger.
"Who is S—he?"
Gellert almost winced. "He is the hunter. The guardian of the netherworld- a giant Cerberus who comes for every necromancer when his bane has come. Please, get me the portkey and let me go. I beg you, Albus."
Albus nodded and handed the portkey to him. Gellert muttered something about gratitude before the portkey popped him away, leaving him alone amidst the sandy desert.
"I suppose I should now portkey myself back. Sirius would be worried." He briefly wondered if he should wait for Harry but then thought better. After all, Harry knew how to portkey himself back to Britain. Worse comes to worst, he had the red scarf that could portkey him back to the Guild if necessary. Deciding it was useless to stay any longer, Albus waved his wand to create another portkey which popped him away.
He knows?
Remember… no matter what he does, do not lie to him.
"I suppose your friend has warned yourself against me?" The man replied cheerily. "It is almost a disadvantage that Castle Negrul has such limitations over its entrance, otherwise I suppose we would meet much earlier. Then again, everything has a reason, isn't it Peverell?"
"Why do you call me Peverell?" Harry refuted. "I am Harry. Harry Potter."
"Right. Harry Potter. And what about the one who resides inside you?" The man challenged.
"We are different. He has his identity. I have mine. We might share bodies but-"
"Are one soul. Do you refute that, Harry Potter? Or do you, the mighty warlord Ignotus Peverell?"
How does he know about me?
"Really, Ignotus? That is… quite pedestrian. Castle Negrul, floats in time. Surely you would consider that before jumping to conclusions?"
Ignotus stayed silent. Harry wondered how the man- whoever he was, could hear what Ignotus was speaking inside his mind. Surely it was not possible to do that via Legilimency?
"This is not the crude arte of Legilimency, Peverell. For future consideration, I would advise you to simply talk louder. Makes it a better conversation if I am not the only one speaking."
Harry stared at him. The man smiled back.
Harry looked around. The entire Hall reeked of power and ambient magics, but he could not see anyone else beside the man in front. "Where are the other people?"
"They will come when needed. Right now, your reality doesn't need their presence, and so they are not here."
And my reality requires your presence?
The man smirked. "Of course. I am the most real thing you have ever met, Peverell. In fact, you and I have a history that goes long back into the past and deep into the future."
That is not possible. The boatman's reality is different from the mortal world. I have ferried the souls into the netherworld and I have done my job as a hunter. I have only heard of you, High Priest of Negrul. I have never met you.
The man smiled. "True, Ignotus Peverell, Master of the Hallows knew me. However, you are not him. You are just a fraction that he branched out of himself before he settled for his fate. It is obvious you do not know, because otherwise, you would not have spent every waking moment wondering how the self-proclaimed Master of Death could have died to have reborn into the world as Harry Potter."
And you do?
The man's lips twisted into a smile, as the hood lifted off from his head, revealing the white hair, the pale pointed face and the green eyes, with controlled power gushing through them. "Of course I do, after all, I was the one that killed you."