The entire wizarding world of Britain fell into chaos the moment the case of Sirius Black's murder was closed.
Werewolves, be it children or adults were hunted down and caught before being sent away to a settlement secluded from other wizarding villages. The Ministry of Magic had issued a new mandatory law in which anyone with mixed creature blood heritage must be registered or otherwise being thrown to Azkaban. Even then, the only ones who would be gained entry to work within the magical world were those from harmless and humanoid creatures such as goblins and giants.
All the while, Lord Voldemort lauded at how his heir had done his job.
The werewolves, who previously only gained a small fraction within his Death Eaters, now sought him for more protection against the Ministry. Their leader, Fenrir Greyback pleaded on how they deserved better lives and that only the poor werewolf boy should be punished for his crime. Being the opportunist he was, he decided to let them in. It never hurts to gain more supporters, after all.
Not to mention the man he feared the most, Albus Dumbledore was fired from most of his positions; be it the Supreme Mugwump or Headmaster of Hogwarts. The Dark Lord never thought he would see the day where the pesky old coot fell from his grace and felt such joy from it, yet here he was; almost prancing in Malfoy Manor's library upon reading the headlines on the Daily Prophet. Even his snake, Nagini gave him curious looks at his reactions.
Oh, how he wished he could meet up with Severus Prince right away. The black notebook he used to communicate with the boy was nice and all, but words could convey so much. He wanted to listen and see what drove the normally quiet, soft-spoken boy to do such act.
He still had the shivers when he remembered the huge blast of magic surrounded Severus upon knowing what had happened to him. How those dangerous waves of pure power almost brought an end to him, the great Dark Lord who was in his way to achieve the unthinkable!
…Was it possible for Severus to be more powerful than him? He did create several spells on his own by the age of fifteen (or could it be younger than that?), and the wondrous potions he made as an initiation to get into his ranks! He could sing praises about them!
If he hadn't known the boy well, Lord Voldemort would have been jealous of him. But as it was, he could see how similar they were and Severus' sheer determination in getting what he wanted the most: a quiet, peaceful life.
And he would support his heir in any way possible.
Hogwarts was closed during summer, though the gamekeeper was still around with some teachers. Nearby the Forbidden Forest, a man with round glasses was standing in front of a tombstone where bouquets of flowers were laid in mourning of the lost life.
"I…" he began tearfully, "P- Padfoot, did you go into the Shack to reminisce about our good times? W- Why didn't you tell me…? We could've gone there together… Maybe even invite Pete along… B- But… I guess we both would be dead meat by then." He looked down to the red collar in his hands.
As promised by Mr. Bartemius Crouch Sr., the restrictive Animagus collar had fell off and was no longer valid the moment he finished his seventh year.
The man sobbed before his face contorted into a determined expression and he gripped the collar tightly, "I promise, I'm going to honor you in some way! I, James Potter, will name my first son after you! You hear that, Pads?! I will do it, believe me! A- And I'm going to be an Auror! I… I will hunt down those wolves to the grounds!"
After spending about half an hour crying over his deceased friend, James Potter wiped his tears away and walked down the trails leading to Hogsmeade Village before entering the Hog's Head Inn.
"James, my boy," Albus Dumbledore greeted solemnly, "How're you today?"
The bespectacled young man sniffed, "There had been better days. Has the meeting started yet?" When the old wizard shook his head, James went to mingle with the others inside the pub. Most of them were Ministry of Magic officers and Aurors, though there were also fresh graduates like him.
About fifteen minutes later, the barman closed the door with a locking charm and silencing spells.
Sitting next to a man named Elphias Doge, James then listened to Dumbledore clapped his hands once to get the others' attention and spoke, "Welcome everyone; to the first official meeting of the Order of the Phoenix."
Severus woke up with a weak smile.
Last night certainly had been the nicest sleep he had; there were no nightmares, phantom pains in his chest or even the nerves in his left leg flaring up. Still, his lungs felt a bit stuffy so he drank the cough syrup and did his usual self-therapy routine before taking his cane to get to his wheelchair.
"Minty," he called and a young house-elf appeared, bowing down to him. "…Can you get seven glass vials for me?" She simply bowed and left with a crack, while Severus steered his wheelchair to his school trunks and took out the glass jar containing the grey cloud before placing it on his desk.
The house-elf returned with a bag and smiling, Severus thanked her before dismissing her to her usual jobs for the day. He then took out the Elder Wand from his arm holster and stared at the mysterious glass jar with narrowed eyes after arranging his requested items on the desk.
"Hello," he spoke.
The grey cloud swirled for a brief moment before changing its shape, and Severus watched as it gradually formed a face, smiling upon seeing his own visage from the cloud which returned the gesture. Running his fingers along the powerful Elder Wand, he then said, "I'd like to test a theory; hope you won't mind."
The halved portion of his soul merely smiled. Getting the unspoken agreement, Severus lifted the Death Stick with lidded eyes, intending to separate his split soul further into smaller parts. After all, wasn't it a waste to keep the largest portion of one's soul in merely one item? What if the object was destroyed?
Did Marvolo simply make another Horcrux without any concerning regards on his soul? For a brief moment, Severus couldn't help but to wonder how much of the man's soul was still in his main body.
Steeling himself onto the daunting task, Severus then began to pull his halved soul apart.
The King of Snakes was forever grateful of Severus Prince's kindness.
It had roamed around the manor the moment it arrived, and despite being a newcomer, the moving paintings greeted it as if it had stayed there since the beginning. Not to mention one of Severus' ancestors was actually a Parselmouth (albeit also being a Squib), so most conversation it did with the rest of the mansion's occupants were translated by her.
The armor that both Severus Prince and Lord Voldemort created for it was multi-functional, too. If it willed to be invisible, the armor would make it so and thus; the great snake went to explore more of the manor and its surrounding area. Meredith Gaunt's portrait had told about its new home nearby the mansion but it wanted to be with its new master as close as possible.
It watched as the only ghost in the manor flew by with closed eyes, trailing after it from afar like some bodyguard. It supposed that only made sense since Severus couldn't move around much due to his current ailment.
The serpent greatly mourned the loss of his loyal phantom raven when he told it what had happened, and wondered if it could do the same for him too.
Sliding down the stairs from the second floor, it then headed to the room nearby the library and the Potions laboratory, and tapped the door of its master's room three times with its tail, to which the person inside called, "Come in." The serpent wrapped its tail around the doorknob and turned the item before swinging the door open; it might have no hands but its tail was more than enough.
Severus Prince was in his wheelchair, being slightly tired and pale.
"Good morning, Salazar," he muttered with a yawn when he saw it.
The King of Snakes glided closer to its master and simply allow him to pat and caress its head lovingly, letting out a purr of contentment with each gesture in which he chuckled after hearing it.
"How does it feel to be the accomplice of two separate murders?" he asked after a while.
It briefly smiled before flicking its tongue in distaste, "The boy deserves a worse fate."
Severus snorted before taking a long red box from his school trunks and they went to the dining hall for breakfast, the great serpent playfully pushed the wheelchair forward to help him move. When they looked at each other, it simply smiled fondly.
No, it didn't think Severus Prince's new orange eyes were strange; it was more than happy to finally being able to see its master without any restrictions. Besides, it was reassuring to see the phantom raven's presence even if what was left of the loyal bird were merely its eye color and protection spell running in the boy's veins.
Death simply watched as the boy and his basilisk went outside after having their meals and he opened the red box, where a charred feather was placed. As the boy regaled the story to the great snake on how he first met the raven, it too was reminiscing the day where the boy committed his first murder; back in Salazar Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets.
The Dark Angel followed the boy closely after he ordered a house-elf to get him to the hidden place, observing as he absent-mindedly twirled his blackthorn wand in waiting. When the entrance doors were opened again, he frowned upon seeing who it was.
"Black…?" Severus Prince muttered in puzzlement and instinctively gripped his wand tighter. "I had hoped to get Potter, but oh well…" He shifted his wheelchair to be close to the newcomer and ordered the hypnotized boy to sit on the floor.
"Libby," he called and his house-elf returned with a bow. "I want you to be the witness for this whole interrogation, can you?"
"Libby will do as it is, Master Severus. But if Libby may ask, won't it be better to have another person?"
Severus stroked his chin thoughtfully, "Good point. Who else are you close with?"
"Minty is a good friend of Libby, Master."
"Is she...?"
The house-elf gave him a wide grin, "She also works in the Manor."
Severus chuckled good-naturedly, "I really should get to know the lot of you." He then called for the aforementioned house-elf and Death watched as he asked questions one after another to Sirius Black, who remained hypnotized thanks to the concoction the boy brewed back then.
After a long time, Severus sighed, "…Do you know anyone who might say something about setting Fiendfyre into my room?"
"Yes."
Severus exchanged worrying glances with his house-elves. "…Who?" he queried curiously.
Sirius Black smiled. "Me."
Severus Prince's visage went utterly pale upon hearing the word. Beside him, the two house-elves gasped and covered their mouths, green eyes widened in utmost shock.
Death watched as the boy struggled to recollect himself and ordered Libby to get the Duplicating Solution before forcing Black to gulp down the liquid. The three then watched as another Sirius Black appeared and told Minty about the way to bypass the Whomping Willow and to hide the other one in the Shrieking Shack, putting the copy in an enchanted sleep.
The Dark Angel's red eyes glittered as it watched Severus tearfully unleashed a Killing Curse to the real Sirius Black, marveling at its black color; the rarest of them all that it had seen. Oh, the Avada Kedavra like many other spells had numerous variations; the black one was a curse meant to make sure whoever got hit by it won't ever get their peace of mind, forever rotting away in the dark void.
When Severus' split soul went out of his body, the boy tried hard to contain the spirit within his grasp before putting it in a glass jar he had brought over for the inevitable.
"Bring that body to Salazar," he said to Libby before falling into unconsciousness, "tell him to finish the job."
Back in the present day, Death simply stood by in silence. Its bony fingers were curled around an ethereal glass vial, to which a small soul resided inside the item and the Grim Reaper narrowed its red eyes, wondering what the boy would do with the charred feather.
"…Be free, Rogue," it heard him mutter, "May we meet again someday."
He then blew the charred feather away, and Death pulled out the cork of the glass vial holding the raven's soul in succession, watching as the avian spirit let out a triumphant cry unheard by the mortals before disappearing for the last time. The feather briefly swirled in the air and it too, crumbled into ashes right in front of the Grim Reaper, the King of Snakes and Severus Prince.
There had been legends that those who possessed all the three Deathly Hallows would be considered as Masters of Death. However, the Dark Angel knew better; anyone could have held those items in their hands but it took more than that to be its true Master.
A true Master of Death must be willing to cast death to others.
A true Master of Death must be willing to reverse death of others.
A true Master of Death must be willing to accept the passing of others.
And with that last act, the Grim Reaper smiled wistfully.
It had found a worthy Master ever since it created the Deathly Hallows over a millennium ago.