Next chapter, explanations after the reading.

I hope you enjoy.

Harry Potter and the Discovery of the Path

Chapter 03 The Potions

"I'm… a'right… Dob..by" panted Harry. He was laying in the grass, covered in sweat and dirt. He was breathing hard, trying not to be sick. It was the fifth day of the summer holiday, it was his fifth day in the trunk and it was his fifth day that confirmed his suspicions, he wasn't in as good shape as he hoped he was.

Still panting heavily he made himself stand up and stretched as much as his mussels let him, which weren't that much at the moment. He remembered, after years of playing Quidditch, that if he allowed himself to lay after the extensive physical training, especially running, he would be stiff and in more pain than necessary.

Harry slowly made his way up the rest of the hill to his cave. He had decided to call his 'inside part' simply "the cave", because it looked like one.

It was his tenth run. He had started in his very first evening after the discussion with the Dursleys'.

He had decided he would be running in the mornings and evenings, to the stream in the valley and back twice. Unfortunately for him, in his first two days he had managed there and back only once. On his third day Harry had tried to run back to the little stream for the second time during his morning run and was back almost an hour later dragging himself up the hill. He had been exhausted. Today however he was up half the way back when he had collapsed. His mussels ached painfully but he felt better with the exercise. He actually felt that he was doing something.

After almost a week in his trunk, Harry was still awed by this place, especially this 'outdoor' part. He had spent here most of his time, doing physical exercises as best as he could. He had spent here all his reading time as well. Harry had even asked Winky and Dobby to serve their meals on the stony table in front of the cave. He had only went inside to retrieve some books or use a bathroom or just in the evening when he went to bed.

When he had reached the top of the hill, he stretched his legs against the bench and asked Dobby to prepare their breakfast. He told the elf he would be right back and went to take a quick shower. It was his routine to take a run early before the breakfast and in the evening after the dinner. First he was going to run before dinner but then decided to run just before going to bed. One of the reasons were that Harry had heard somewhere that eating before sleep wasn't healthy. But mostly this was because he had known that when he was exhausted, there was a chance he would sleep without a nightmare. And surprisingly he had managed that second night in a row.

Well that and the Occlumancy techniques. Harry obediently had tried few proposed in the book calming and breathing methods.

At first he had been frustrated with them, a part of him still was. He had been frustrated, not with the fact that they didn't work. Rather than that he had been frustrated because they actually had worked and had calmed him a little, for a moment a least, until he had remembered that if he knew them earlier he wouldn't be tricked by Riddle. Then he usually remembered the way Snape tutored him, witch, on his level, wasn't even mentioned in the book from Dumbledore, so Harry supposed he wasn't taught at all, and his Potion Master was only perfecting his Legilimency skills. Then his thoughts brought him to the conclusion that he was weakened not strengthened. Next usually came the thoughts of his visions and Sirius' being tortured. After that the Ministry, Sirius death, Voldemort and the Prophecy. So, the first attempts were very difficult and nerve wracking.

On his first day Harry decided that he would read about or train Occlumency twice a day. He did that, sometime between breakfast and lunch and then in the evening, after the run, just before sleep.

After the first three sessions he had somehow overcome the overwhelming trait of thoughts. Yesterday this techniques in fact lasted and he felt better. His mind felt clear and he was calm and not only on the outside. Harry felt better also inside. He felt a little more in peace. He did accepted that Sirius was dead. Harry had accepted that, not only mentally, but in a way emotionally. Then and there some part of him, even if still very small part, understood.

He had also felt better because the day earlier, after his Occlumency training something shuttered inside of him and Harry wept. He cried like never before. He cried so hard and so long that he had cried himself to sleep. Never earlier in his life had Harry had let himself cry like that. He had cried over Sirius, he had cried over his parents, he had cried over Cedric, he had cried over his friends, over all sorts of things, over the injustice in the world, over the elves' treatment. He had cried over anything and everything. But possibly most important and relieving, Harry had cried over himself. Just before he fell asleep he once again decided that he don't want to live like that, that he want to have his own Burrow one day.

Harry had woken up the next day refreshed even if little embarrassed. And he had woken up after a night free from nightmares.

It had helped a lot. He had actually enjoyed his other reading yesterday. And the catharsis made it easier to understand or memorize what he was reading.

He was nowhere near to be completely okay. He had to much on his shoulders. But he definitely felt better.

Harry left the bathroom refreshed, water still dipping from his hair. He put on clean shorts and a sweatshirt. He grabbed his new sneakers and left 'the cave' collecting some books on his way out.

It turned out that almost all Wizarding shops provided owl delivery, therefore catalogues were available. After some internal debate with himself, reasoning that if he demanded of the elves to wear normal clothes he should wear something better himself. The debate was rather short and contained spotting the catalogue from Madam Malkin's shop and deciding to buy new clothes.

Harry had ordered whole new wardrobe. He bought robes and muggle clothes. From socks to Wizarding hats. Having Winky around help him greatly. He had found out she had always attended to Barty Crouch jr's clothing and knew how to measure Harry and what was needed in a wardrobe. Harry had asked her that he would like to have muggle clothing the most and only few robes that were required to school. His old ones had been from before his fourth year and were to small now.

Both Madam Malkin and Gladrags had a collection of muggle clothes and he had gotten everything he needed, probably even more since he didn't knew where he would need a suit or a strange swimsuit Winky had also bought, which looked like the one he saw on the TV in those rare moments he had been allowed to watch a movie with the Dursley's. He remembered there were some men wearing something similar in a black&white movie. The swimsuit was in black and white strips and would cover him from above his knees to his neck leaving bizarre, deep cleavage in the front.

Nevertheless, now Harry had a wardrobe full of new clothes that actually were his and fitted him.

The breakfast was delicious as every meal they had eaten so far. Harry was thrilled at the taste of cold buterbeer he was sipping now. Even at Hogwarts they only drunk it during the Hogsmade weekends or when someone smuggled a bottle or two. And here he was, sitting, watching his beautiful surroundings, drinking this delicious drink. Everything seemed great, but the book on Harry's lap was a constant reminder why he was there, not letting him to relax completely and enjoy this place.

Currently Harry was reading "Beware My Wrath! by Merwyn the Malicious written by the hand of Quentinus Quaetaus". And the things this medieval wizard had written, to put it mildly, were malevolent. He had created a huge part of curses, hexes and jinxes that were in Harry's arsenal. Harry was pleased that he knew a lot of them, but on the other hand maybe he shouldn't be too pleased about that. Beside of evident cruelty of this wizard he was a genius and some of his ideas were just brilliant, in a scientific way of course. After all he was on Famous Wizard card number 15. That had to mean something.

Actually Harry found out that, in his library, he had two copies of this book but the older one, and the word 'older' meant a version from 9th century, had been hard to understand. However he found also another copy, this one published in the fifty's of this century.

The battles and duels described in this book usually lacked the tactic and preferred pure, brute force. But even Merwyn the Malicious had his moments. For example Sir Merwyn, probably first, suggested apparation as a method useful in fighting. ".… Always keep in mind that apparation saved many lives, from catastrophes and assaults, caused by humans, goblins, centaurs or other creatures either light or dark …. Using the strength of your legs or even the strong stallion, one rarely saves himself from the onslaught of the werewolf or even more dangerous vampires. Apparation however will certainly save you against the dark wolfs and if you are strong enough in your mind, you have a chance against the deadly charms of vampires …. Those brave enough to ever face the mighty dragon or doomed and foolish enough to cross the path with the awake nundu, the exotic and most deadly creature, must know apparation to have the slightest chance of staying human not ghost! ... Remember my friend, apparation is not only the way of travel, but also great asset to one with a want of a long life and many descendants…."

Harry recalled quite clearly the duel between Dumbledore and Voldemort. It was frightening and in the same time fascinating. They had been using spells after spells never repeating ones they used. They had been using transfiguration, charms, hexes, jinxes, just everything. And they had been apparating in and out, to the left and right, always changing places, and positions, casting spells and disappearing again only to reappear somewhere else and attack again.

Their fight was inspiring. Harry quietly had admitted to himself the duel between the two most powerful wizard, despite its perfection in magic, its speed and power radiating from both wizard showed him something else. More so it was Dumbledore that showed him something which had motivated Harry even more. Harry had seen, he had really seen Voldemort loosing, not in a way I'm lucky I'm still alive from Dumbledore's side, but I'm better than you, way. Voldemort can be bested even if he looked and acted like a undefeated monster in every sense.

With new determination after those thoughts he focused on his book again. He decided to finish at least two chapters, write down new spells, then he would try some Occlumency and then Quidditch just before lunch. Harry smiled, that was definitely a good plan for today.

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The weather so far was quite nice, it was sunny and over fifteen degrees of Celsius. It was the best weather for Quidditch. Many were doing just that. Some played Quidditch with their friends, some were walking in groups or in pairs, visiting friends, chasing in the grass, just having fun. Muggle children were doing the same, playing their sports, doing what there was to do during the summer holidays.

Unfortunately there were some, that weren't allowed outside unsupervised.

They were to close to the events surrounding certain Dark Lord. Their parents decided to move from they beautiful home to the headquarter of the secret society, dedicated to fight said dark wizard and his followers. They decided to move because almost all their family was in some way or another connected with that society.

Molly Weasley was trying very hard to find a way to occupy her youngest children. She was nagging them to do their homework, unfortunately Ron didn't have any since he was waiting for his OWL's results and Ginny, well she somehow managed to find something more important to do and so far managed to only start with some of it.

Molly was also ordering them to help with maintaining the Noble House of Black but they weren't sure if the house would remind the headquarter after Sirius' Death.

Hopefully he had made a will and left the house to the Order or the Tonks or Remus, maybe to Harry. Otherwise it would be hard stay there. The rights to the house had Andromeda and her daughter Nimphadora Tonks, Narcissia and her son Draco Malfoys as well as Bellatrix Lastrange. That foul witch Bellatrix killed her cousin and as a known death eater probably wont participate in the inheritance.

On the other hand nobody knew how Goblins would handle it. What if they would ask everyone to the Gringotts. Maybe Harry would have to face Bellatrix and if the Goblins decided to give immunity to a death eater, which was possible, he wouldn't be able to do anything. As far as everyone knew the Black fortune was Sirius' all the time even if he was in Azkaban. Goblins had their own laws and didn't took sides, not since last Goblin rebellion.

You-Know-Who probably had his vault there as well. For some time now Bill had been trying to get some information about it, but goblins never allowed humans close to their secrets. His access was still limited even if her Bill was one of the best curse breakers there, she thought proudly. Then frowned at his long hairs and the earring.

For now Albus had the house under the charm so Goblins wouldn't find it. And maybe he had some influence there as well. She could swear that he knew everybody.

Molly sighed, poor Harry and Remus, they have lost so much in they lives, and Harry was just a boy. With those depressing thoughts she started preparing lunch. She preferred doing it the muggle way.

After some time Ron walked into the kitchen. He had been cleaning the living room since yesterday.

"I've finished." Tall redheaded boy announced tiredly and slumped into the heavy wooden chair. He took a sandwich from the plate his mother left on the table. Then he placed the Prophet on the table in front of him and started skimming through it, absently scratching his arm from time to time, where the brainy things attacked him in the Department of Mysteries.

Molly had noticed, that looking through the paper, he didn't omit every page and pay attention only to Quidditch. Ron was stopping and reading some other, in her opinion more important, news as well. However when he finished them with his, new to her, serious expression, Ron usually switched to the sports highlands.

His eyes and face full of emotions and excitement while reading about Quidditch, and she smiled despite all the worries that hanged around them. Some things would never change.

All her children were different but in a same time all of them were the same in many ways. They were stubborn, determined in their beliefs, all of them obviously short tempered. There were many traits from her and Arthur some good some less so. But from all her children, Ron reminded her the most of Arthur. Not only his deep fascination with things that caught his attention, but also something she thought was annoying in Arthur when she had first met him. Arthur as well as Ron could turn off everything around them when they where committing theirs full attention to what they were doing. Ron's was still mostly around quidditch or chess, well, and of course food. Artur's noticeably around muggle inventions. But her annoyance about that trait of Arthur had changed when he directed his mind at her. She did feel like a princess then and she knew he could still make her feel like that. Ron had inherited that part of her husband to the most, and she was sure he would make some girl very happy someday.

Maybe it will be Hermione, she knew he had a soft spot for her, and Hermione was a great young witch. Molly felt ashamed that she had thought that those awful things they had written about her in the Prophet few years ago were true. At the time she had thought that Ginny would get Harry's attention and Hermione, it had been said, was his girlfriend, so naturally Molly wasn't happy. But to treat her the way she did was truly unfair.

And last year Ginny lost her romantic interest in Harry. Thankfully they are better friends now and maybe she will be included more to the tight group her son, Hermione and Harry had created. But was it good to endanger her even more? She squashed that thought immediately, Harry was a sweet, lovely boy and he needed his friends. She couldn't.., no she wouldn't stop them.

"Ron dear, where is Ginny?" Molly asked. There was no answer.

Okay it was still annoying.

"Ron!"

"Huh?" The Cannons supposedly found two promising chasers. That should allow them to win at least five matches, and maybe they wouldn't finish last again.

"RON!" Shouted Mrs. Weasley she was getting angry at his lack of response.

"What?" He asked and at least looked at her.

"I asked if you know where Ginny is?"

"Dunno, probably in her room pretending she's doing her homework. Or she is writing to Dean again." He said with a scowl taking another sandwich. "When's lunch?"

"You are eating now"

"I'm hungry"

"In an hour. Your dad said he's going to drop for lunch and I asked Fred and George to come as well."

"Mum," he asked looking again from the Prophet "Did you asked Dumbledore when Harry is going to come?"

"Didn't he wrote you a letter?" Molly replied wondering why Ron didn't knew Harry had asked to stay at the Dursleys.

"Well, he just said that after sending this one with Hedwig we should give our letters to Dumbledore and he would deliver them. Why what did he said?" Ron was getting worried and a little annoyed that Harry didn't tell him something.

"He asked to stay at the Dursleys for some time. He said that they had came to some kind of agreement. And that he needed some time for himself." She was worried about Harry but Albus said that he had the best protection while being there.

"I hope he is alright." Was all what the redhead said.

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This place felt so real. Harry was flying his broom for about two and a half hours now. When he had brought the Firebolt for the first time, he had felt that the familiar feeling of sadness and regret was trying to creep on him. But he reasoned with himself that Sirius wouldn't like him to hung his broom on the wall. Sirius would like him to be happy and nothing ever made him more happy than flying. Flying was freeing. Flying always made Harry want living, it reminded him that there are good things in life. And for Harry, flying was the most Magical thing anyone could imagine. Not flashing spells, nor dragons or any magical creatures, not even the Burrow or Hogwarts, it was flying that in Harry's mind reflected the purest, most basic, children's view of Magic.

Harry was telling himself that he didn't flew earlier because he was still adjusting to living in this trunk and that he needed to check the area first.

He had started with some drills around the pitch and then flew to check, how far his forest would last, and how it would end. After all it was a trunk.

Harry decided to fly in one direction to determine the length or the width of this place. He had found his answers after twenty minutes of flying. He had been flying very slow afraid he would bump into a wall at the end of this illusion. But that was not the case.

The hill with his Quidditch pitch, a beautiful meadow, small, but very cold stream, and a forest surrounding it all, appeared to be a miniature world.

When he had been flying above the trees for some time , Harry was most curious about the another hill that appeared ahead of him. After few more minutes of even slower pace he had left the tree line and came to a halt hovering in front of his own Quidditch pitch. And behind the pitch there was his hill, where he sat and watched the stars when he was inspecting this trunk for the first time. This side of the hill had a lot more sheer hillside, that was great for the watchers of the game that could be played on the pitch.

After that revelation he decided to find out if it was as wide as it was long. Harry had repeated the action in the other directions, a lot faster than the first time. He had his little world. He didn't feel the angles of the sphere, or whatever it was, and he could and did tried the limits of his bellowed Fireball. According to Dobby, who had been counting time, it turn out that to fly around this place Harry needed, with maximum speed, three minutes. He had estimated that his Fireball's maximum speed was more or less two hundred mph, so the diameter of this place should be about ten miles. And that was in 'a straight' line.

He decided that tomorrow or the day after that he would try how high he could fly in here. But now lunch was definitely in order.

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Harry was sitting with Winky and Dobby by the stone table beside his cave. They were eating delicious lunch when something incredible happened. It made him love this trunk even more. What happened only confirmed that the trunk was worth its money.

Hedwig came back. But she came back not to his room within the Dursley's but to his trunk directly.

She landed gratefully on the stone table where they were eating lunch, puffed her chest, dropped a letter from her beak and held out her leg with three more tied to it.

Harry vaguely remembered that there was something about the owls in the trunk's manual. He took the letters from Hedwig, gave her some food and decided to check in the manual about the mail before he read the letters. He left them on the bench, thanked the elves for another delicious meal and left to the office.

After few minutes of skimming through the thick book he found the pages about "owls delivery". It read "…the wards put on the trunk recognize known owls species as well as other thirty animals species used in delivery… you can add other species to already known by putting the feather (or a sample of fur) of the animal you wish to add, into the green vase (proprieties of the vases are described in the chapter describing wards) than say…" The next few pages described how to add or remove different animals. Harry discovered that he could block all the owls not only coming to the trunk but also finding him when he was in the trunk. When the trunk was in the card form the owl traffic was automatically blocked. He found out that he could allow few selected owls to be able to find him, based on the owl, on the place they are coming from and for example owls from certain people. Harry never before thought about that but it made sense. After all, Umbridge banned all owls with the Prophet from Hogwarts. And if the owl traffic couldn't be somehow controlled then Sirius would be probably caught few hours after escaping Azkaban. The Ministry could just follow the owl sent to him.

When he thought of Sirius an overwhelming sadness washed over Harry. But it also stirred something else within him, something Harry didn't feel before. He recognized it as anger, he recognized it and tried to squash it immediately, because it wasn't anger of Sirius's death but anger with Sirius because he died. Harry thought it was wrong to feel that way, so he fought it, afraid it could bring guilt as well.

After reading the rest of the chapter he finally found the part describing how the owls appeared in the trunk "… and if the owl is approved by the trunk owner, the way to transport it to the trunk is easy and without any damage to the animal. The lid to the trunk is charmed to be a portkey specified to transport only delivery animals accepted by the trunk. The animal is portkeyed to the branch of the maple tree on the north side of the river." Harry could see this tree through the round window in his office. "The maple is also a portkey letting owls to leave the trunk. They appear within five feet radius from the trunk… The trunk is equipped with detection charms that could be set to ban the owl if it carries jinxed or hexed mail…" To Harry's dismay, remembering Neville and Ron, howlers weren't on the list of possible threat owls and would be let in. Furthermore he had read somewhere that there are no known anti-howler charms.

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Harry sat on the bench and looked at the letters laying in front of him, on the ornamented silver tray on the stone table. Dobby or Winky must have put them there. He could see Hedwig flying over the trees in the distance. Maybe she was hunting. He saw a fish in the stream, when he was resting exhausted from running, his second day there. At that time he was wondering if it was real, he remembered that the water was real and very cold as well. But the fish could be illusion.

Harry had sent Hedwig with a letter to London asking the Order not to interfere with the Dursley's. He vaguely wrote that they got to some kind of understanding and his family wont get in his way as long as he will stay out of theirs. He also reminded them that Dumbledore will be visiting him two or even three times a week and that the letter every third day wouldn't be necessary. He hoped that they wouldn't push him to much.

Harry loved his friends. He considered them his true family but he felt that he needed some time alone. Thankfully his scar didn't bother him, so Voldemort was quiet for now and hopefully there weren't any attacks yet. Harry knew they would come. When still at Hogwarts, he skimmed through some books describing the first rising of Voldemort and he was astonished at what he saw. Attacks on muggles and some wizarding families were common occurrence. It was amazing that the Wizarding World wasn't exposed then.

He suspected that Riddle was recruiting followers now or maybe finding ways to became more powerful. Harry always remembered the first prophecy he had heard. It was about Wormtail, the rat, but it also stated that Voldemort would be even more powerful then before his fall, fifteen years ago. And from what he remembered from his readings, Voldemort was winning then.

"…DARK LORD WILL RISE AGAIN WITH HIS SERVANT'S AID, GREATER AND MORE TERRIBLE THAT EVER HE WAS…" That part of the prophecy was imprinted in Harry's mind. Greater and more terrible. Harry sighed as if resigned and defeated, but in the same time he felt somehow contented. According to the prophecy He actually had a chance. He could help win the war that was coming, the war that on some level was already fought. But then a bubble of fear raised in his mind. He remembered the prophecy Dumbledore told him – He would decide, it was up to him. "…AND EITHER MUST DIE AT THE HAND OF THE OTHER FOR NEITHER CAN LIVE WHILE THE OTHER SURVIVES…".

Harry sighed sadly then jump when something was dropped on the table in front of him. It was dead squirrel, his brow furrowed in confusion, but then Hedwig landed on the table beaming at him proud that she caught such a feast. So the animals in here are real, he thought stroking her head. She nibbled his finger with affection then took flight again. Thankfully she took her dinner to eat it somewhere else.

He thought about the prophecy again and sighed. Hagrid said to him once "What's comin' will come, an' we'll meet it when it does." The only thing Harry thought he could do, was to prepare himself as best as he could. He looked at the letters again. One of them was from Dumbledore. His Occlumency lessons would start tomorrow. Harry leaned over the table and grabbed the letter from his Headmaster, hoping that news for once were good.

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A lone figure, his face under a whit mask, was striding quickly through the dark corridors of the mansion. His black robes whisking behind him. He was summoned by his Master. Even after all those years, he didn't knew where this place was. No portkays, no tracking spells put on him worked to trace it. They were trying long and hard to find it. This castle, for he was sure that it was one, reminded hidden after the fall of Dark Lord. Yet when he was summoned, once he left the grounds of Hogwarts, he knew exactly where to apparate… but still didn't know where.

They had ruled out The Fidelius Charm at first, but after few years of peace some news of Dark Lord being here and there came to light. Plus all knowing Dumbledore always insisted that he wasn't dead. That made The Fidelius still possible, and there was always Dark Magic. He wondered once, where You-Know-Who gained all his knowledge.

His inability to explain the Dark Lord's whereabouts was one of the reasons some Order members didn't trust him. That and probably the fact that he was a Death Eater, some thought he had never stopped being one. "After all, one couldn't vanish the Dark Mark" Moody once said.

He walk up to the dark, wooden, double door on the end of the corridor, automatically checked his Occlumency shields and walked inside, wondering briefly if he should knock.

Severus never was in this part of the castle. As far as he knew, not many were here, for it was the Dark Lord's private chambers.

"Ahh, Sseverusss," whizzed the figure sitting by big black desk, "you have come quickly, goood."

"You called, Master" Snape bowed deeply. The room was dark and gloomy, there were bookshelves on the wall, big fireplace and two other doors on the other. Behind Voldemort desk there was a big painting with a green throne ornamented with snakes and dragons. Behind the throne stood tall figure covered in the shadows. Severus Snape was momentarily taken aback when realization of who might be the figure hit him, but years of practice prevented him from showing anything.

Dark Lord was looking at him intensively, red eyes blazing awfully, Severus knew that look, he was judging him, deciding if he should require something very important of him. That could also mean the death sentence.

Severus Snape decided to look at the books on the huge desk. They were scattered around the desk, small candles were floating above the books illuminating them quite clearly. He looked with fascination at some titles. There were books and scrolls with Magic probably as old as writing itself. Some of the books he recognized, they were old, filled with extremely advanced magic and incredibly hard to get. It would take years to learn from them. Most looked like originals. Potion Master couldn't help the shiver of dread when he thought of those texts he couldn't recognize. This was indeed most dangerous weapon, knowledge.

Thankfully Voldemort took his reaction as eagerness and motioned him to come closer. He looked closely at the Dark Lord for the first time since he arrived, and noticed that he was still sitting in the big armchair, his movements was slow and heavy. He looked almost slack, as if only his magic could keep him up. For a second flood of emotions rushed through his soul. He felt disbelieve, jealousy, anger and a little hope, that only two weeks ago, he thought was lost to him because of the events in Potters four year.

"I sssee you like my little coletiiioon" Voldemort's cold hiss brought Snape to his focus.

"It is very rare, Master." Severus bowed again.

"It iss one of a kind." He hissed dangerously. "Take the opened one in front of you" Potion Master did as he was ordered and gasped when he read the title "Hellia: Potions gesamnian by SS"

"I want you to make me few potions, Sseverusss."

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"I have five weeks to finish those two" he pointed at the parchments at the two lists of ingredients.

His voice was shaky, and he was quickly emptying his second glass of firewhisky. After he had came back, Severus immediately went to see the Headmaster.

"Albus, he has got Hellia's work, collected by Salazar himself, I even saw his notes on margins. And the portrait must by Slytherin's as well." He gulped the rest of the firewhisky and stood up to refill again.

Albus Dumbledore looked perturbed. He knew that Tom had spend many years learning the Dark Arts. But did he really gained help from Salazar Slytherin in person. He looked at the portraits, all of them forgot to even pretend they were sleeping. All the knowledge and help he had from the ex Headmistress and Headmasters. Could Tom have other portraits of Dark Lords and Dark Mistresses? All late portraits, that was after his split up with the Founders, of Salazar Slytherin were supposed to be destroyed. Was it possible that the ancestral Slytherin castle still stood and Tom had found it? That would rule out The Fidelius Charm, he mussed absently.

Albus looked at the parchments in front of him and thought about the book they were rewritten from.

Hellia, by muggles thought to be Nordic Goddess of underworld. Her other names were Hella or more widely known, but not as she, but rather a place, Hell. She was a legend in the Wizarding World as well. She was the first documented Dark Mistress of Europe. She lived long before Merlin. She ruled all Scandinavia, countries that are now known as Baltic republics and western parts of modern Russia. Her power was recognized as far as Moscow is now. According to little facts that remained she ruled her dominium over sixty years. She was a ruthless Mistress. She was greatly skilled in potion making as well as a necromancer. She created many potions. She was known to experiment with human in her 'art'. She experimented with acids and sulfur.

Some Magical Historians think that her capitol, Helheim, was located somewhere to the north of her empire, others, that it was an island on the Baltic Sea. There was also a legend that stated "To gain the knowledge how to entrance to the Helheim one had to seek north through the house of mist". The "house of mist" meant Hel. And there is aHel peninsula in Poland in the south of Baltic Sea. Till 17th century an island. When you look to the north from there in a straight line to the north pole, the line cross the island Gotland, the largest island in the Baltic Sea which belongs to Sweden. And according to that theory there supposed to be the capitol of Hel…

"…us. Albus! Headmaster!" Severus Snape was almost shouting. He was trying to hear his mentor opinion, but the old Headmaster didn't acknowledge his questions for some time now.

"Oh, I apologies Severus, I was miles away." Albus said, taking something from his pocket.

"Obviously." murmured sarcastically young man, feeling instantly better after this snide remark.

"Lemon drop?" Albus asked looking totally obvious to his Potion Master's sour look. "And you can't voice the name or the purpose of those two potions?" They knew about this. Voldemort often used this kind of Dark Arts to prevent his servants from talking about things they weren't supposed to. But Albus Dumbledore knew also that all magic has its counter magic. Even the most dark and fearsome. Harry was the living proof to that. And some magic could be easily bypassed just by the simple "yes" or "no".

They couldn't get Severus to talk or write about this. The image in the pensive would be all blurred and voices muffled. But he could answer questions answering yes or no. It was long and tiresome method but could give some good results. And they were quite adept in using it.

Albus looked at the list again. There were four potions to make. Two he recognized and the other two were from the book of Hellia. "I understand that this is the Strengthening potion and simple Calming Potion" He said brightly, pointing to the two shorter columns, his eyes twinkling brightly again.

"Yes" replied Snape wondering why the Headmaster was so jovial all of a sudden. And then he remembered. In all this shock at the revelation of those other potions he completely forgot why the Dark Lord needed three of them. "Does it mean that he is still week?" He asked hopefully.

And when Albus Dumbledore looked at his young friend he could see a glimpse of the man Severus could be, had he chosen differently in his life.

"I believe he is" Headmaster said with a small smile at Severus. "Well, lets try and find out what those two potions are for, shall we?" They seated themselves comfortably and Albus Dumbledore begun his questions.

"Do you know the effects of all those potions?"

"No."

"Do you know the effect of at least one of Helia's potions?"

"Yes."

"Does it have the same…"

xxxxxxxxxx

A/N

Old English:

gesamnian – collect (collection), assemblage

Okay, that's it. Third chapter.

Now, to all of you wondering why I didn't post earlier, well I have been sick. I even ended spending over a month in the Hospital.

Being in bed with many strange things sticking out of your body isn't very comfortable and the doctors didn't give me anything I could write with. But my mind was working, I mean, when I didn't receive any medicines. Oh, by the way it was only an appendicitis – so they say.

But I'm better now and I have been working on this fic. This chapter will be reposted – with beta approval. But I feel that you have been waiting long enough.

Thanks for all yours reviews. I will start responding to them soon.

I have been told to split the first chapter in two. I will do it after they come back from my beta.

I think I would like to find another beta to help, so the posting would go faster. You all see my English and how much work it requires.

Treck – leave a review if you still want to beta this fic. Leave a review anyway.

I have the next chapter ready but I am waiting for some reviews.

So REVIEW.

Artdam