I just can't help making longer and longer chapters as I get closer to te end, it seems... Well, here you all are, chapter 61.
As for the reviewers who asked how long the story will still go on, I would say about two more chapters after this one, with perhaps an epilogue.

Enjoy!


''There are... a lot more of them than I thought,'' was Harry's first thought that slipped out of his mouth. Of course, he'd seen the list of students, but reading a few pages of names and actually seeing them run around was a very different thing. ''Aren't there three experimental schools in the country? And only Muggleborns attending? In my Hogwarts year we only had two Muggleborns as far as I know, Hermione and a Hufflepuff called Justin.'' He hadn't really cared much about the blood status of the other Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws in his year, but there couldn't be too many other Muggleborns. A couple of children ran past, totally not caring about either him or the imposing hooded figure standing in the middle of the hallway. Had they looked up to see under the hood, they might have thought twice about running further.

''The wizarding population went up quite a lot in the years I was a spirit,'' Marvolo explained. The reason for why the population of Hogwarts is so small is because not many people want to get children during a war. Afterwards, it booms. Hogwarts used to have many more students than the current 425. Your year, with only 50 students was the second-lowest, beaten only by the 48 of the current 7th years. But you also should have realised that the current first four years have far more students, for they were conceived right after the first war ended. The second year boasts the highest number right now, with 87 students. They sometimes can't even have double classes anymore, I heard from Severus. The potion lab is too small to hold more than 35 people at once.''

Harry had not realised at all, not really paying much attention to the lower years since he had not been a Prefect. Still, even if it was true, it did not add up with the school here. ''But the Muggles didn't know about the war, so it should not influence Muggleborns, right?''

''True, but not only Muggleborns are here, actually. To make integration easier, over half of the children are half-bloods. It helps them to better understand both sides of the world they live in. The Muggleborn children also profit from the knowledge the half-bloods and their magical parents bring. Additionally, the numbers are influenced by other factors, such as the occasions Muggleborns or their parents refuse the Hogwarts invitation. Attendance is not required as you know, and it happens that even when the Deputy Headmaster or Headmistress shows up and tells them about magic, the Muggles think it a hoax. In some cases, only a letter is sent out when the parents or guardians are supposed to know about magic such as with you. If something went wrong and they do not know how to send the letter back or burn it, no follow-ups are sent out. Your case was very special indeed because Dumbledore wanted you to attend no matter what.''

''So if he had not sent Hagrid for me... if I would have been any other person, I would never have seen Hogwarts?'' Visions of how his life could have turned out had the Dursleys really sent him to Stonewall high turned his stomach.

''Most likely. Now come, we have an appointment.''

Curiously, Harry took in the building. It was only one story high and very light, with the classrooms not only having windows to the outside, but also to the hallway, perhaps so teachers had a better overview. The teen peered through the inner windows into the rooms, which were all empty as it appeared to be break time right now and the children ran around outside. Tiny outer robes hung in rows on hooks on the wall below the windows. Everything was small but open, with the corridors connecting several larger spaces without any doors in between, and the classrooms build around them. The center of the school was formed by a small fan-shaped deepened floor with rows of stairs going down the rounded side and the other two sides looking like a sort of podium. The one on the left displayed various magical items, the right one had pinboards with children drawings of the Hogwarts symbols.

A witch in deep blue robes approached them with an small smile that Harry found a bit forced. ''My Lord, what an honour to have you here.'' She bowed deeply.

''A pleasure, Ms Hobday,'' Marvolo answered, reminding Harry that of course the man knew the full staff here, having hand-picked each of them after researching the backgrounds of dozens of witches and wizards to see who was suited to fill a spot in one of the schools.

When straightening again, she looked at Harry. ''And Mr Potter... the children will be delighted to see the most famous Quidditch Captain of the country.'' She let out a nervous laugh, and both Harry and Marvolo shared the same thought: Harry had not been captain for long enough for that achievement to overshadow his fame as the Boy-Who-Lived, and this woman was making it very obvious that she wished to avoid that topic as much as possible for like so many citizens, she had no idea where Harry stood.

I think the time has come to remedy these awkward situations, it's getting ridiculous, Marvolo thought, and Harry found himself agreeing. Every single time they met those outside of the dark circles he felt left out as none knew how to treat him: like an enemy, a follower, a poster boy, or a casual stranger, and it was a lot worse even when Marvolo was around. Some time ago when the war had fully raged, he had not had such a problem with it, not interacting much with others, and the few times he had such as in the hospital, he'd enjoyed people's confused state. Now it happened more often though, it made his teeth grit every time.

If we'd openly marry... he hinted.

I don't want our wedding to be ruined by press or enemy supporters using the moment to stage an attack. An open wedding is out of the question. A second, open marriage proposal however would be so spontaneous none would be able to organise any hostile activities.

Good idea, Harry answered, liking the thought of it finally not being such a secret anymore. Or well, not exactly a secret, as it wasn't as if he could not tell anyone he wanted about it, but it was not openly known, and for public figures such as them it came down to being the same thing. He couldn't very well enter every room with new people by waving his hand and pointing at his engagement ring, and sadly he'd figured out that most were too dense to notice by themselves or connect the dots.

''So... please come this way, we have prepared a full program. The staff has gathered for a formal greeting as well, it has been a while since everyone has seen you, my Lord.'' Marvolo only nodded curtly and the both of them followed behind her.

As curiousity had filled him as soon as he'd entered the building, Harry asked: ''Do you mind if I ask some questions?'' Ms Hobday looked at Harry with a slightly disturbed look, as if she had been in deep thought. ''Oh, of course Mr Potter. what would you like to know, specifically?'' He ignored her frigid tone, not caring whether she liked him or not.

''Well, I saw the student lists, but how are the classes divided? Not every child is identified as magical at the same age.''

''That is true, and due to this our classes do not follow specific age restrictions yet. You have to understand though, that while we created a system to follow over the course of the next years, we have only been opened for a few months now. All our students here had little to no knowledge of any of the subjects we teach, whether they are four or ten years old. The basic system we would like to implement in the future is to have a main guideline everyone has to follow, starting with a beginner class, followed by intermediate one, intermediate two and a final class. We took inspiration from magical creatures also popular in Muggle culture and named the grades 'gnome, goblin, centaur and dragon' so the children can easily identify with their level. Every level will have two restrictions: first of all the child must have completed the entire coursework, and secondly there will be a age restriction for every level. Younger children keep in the lower grades a bit longer to also develop social abilities more and have the option of either going about their work slower or taking additional courses.''

''That sound like a good idea for the future, but how do you handle the current situation? As you said, all children who started here are on the same basic level now, even those who will start Hogwarts next year.''

''The education at Hogwarts right now requires no previous knowledge, as you well know. What the older children here learn will make the first years there a bit easier for them, nothing more. What we are concentrating on right now is the younger children who will have the ability to go through the full curriculum we wish to offer and enter Hogwarts several years from now. We have been... made aware that certain changes will be made to the Hogwarts curriculum once it falls under the law again, isn't that right, my Lord?''

Nodding, Marvolo continued the explanation. ''Indeed. Our goal is not only to make Hogwarts more accessible for those who do not originally come from a Pureblood environment, but also to up the standard of Hogwarts itself. So much time is wasted now on theory classes that children could have learned far earlier. Recognising potion ingredients and knowing how to prepare them does not require a wand, and neither does learning history of magic, writing the runic alphabets or knowing how to take care of magical creatures. I wish for Hogwarts to become a school that focuses on practise, and all the theoretic foundation to be laid in the elementary school years already.''

''These schools are only for Muggleborns and Halfbloods though... what about Purebloods?''

''Many parents prefer teaching their children themselves, but if this and the other schools are a success, I wish to also open one for Purebloods. Still separate, of course.''

Is separation really good? Harry questioned, deciding it would be better to not question the man openly in the presence of Ms Hobday.

Most of my followers are Pureblooded and wish to not only have a preferred status over Muggles, but also over those who come forth from Muggles. By keeping them separate, I can control all groups better and keep them happier. Or are you asking if it is the ethical thing to do?

I should have known you wouldn't care for that... Still, spreading the idea of one group being above the other and creating hatred and conflict between those groups does not often lead to happiness. I can understand your viewpoint of magicians being above Muggles due to the biological factor of us being gifted at birth with powers that they do not have, but what is the justification of splitting up Purebloods, Half-bloods and Muggleborns? We all have magic, and if taught properly, will also have the same cultural background and knowledge. By your own standards both of us would be lower in the hierarchy than many of your followers.

''We are here,'' Ms Hobday spoke, unaware of their inner dialogue. She opened a door for them and blinked rapidly in surprise when Marvolo made a gallant gesture for Harry to enter first. Harry made mental note to continue the conversation another time, for he still wished to receive an answer.

Six people sat in the room, four men and two women. Or three women... he wasn't sure because one looked like a man but wore female-style robes. All rose as one and bowed before the Dark Lord, who looked pleased at the respect he received. Introductions were not made, most likely because Marvolo knew all of them by name already and they expected Harry to know as well. With slight worry over not knowing anyone here, Harry sat down on one of the two empty chairs closest to the door.

Just ask me if you wish to address anyone specifically. Just know that the man sitting opposite of us, the one with the glasses, is called Linus and holds the position of headmaster.

I love your brain and my link to it, Harry thought in relief. He took in Mr Linus, an ageing man with hair that held faint traces of black among the silver strands. His dark skin looked thick and leathery, as if the sun had burned it for over a thousand years, and silvery scars crisscrossed his face. He reminded Harry a lot of Moody, but the intelligent eyes that now pierced his told Harry that this man was nowhere near as insane as the late ex-Auror had been. It made the teen curious as to the other's history. Had he travelled a lot? Been a soldier, perhaps? And how had he ended up in a teaching position? Marvolo ignored the flood of questions Harry had in favour of letting his gaze intimidate the other people for a few moments spent in further silence. Finally, he spoke up, getting straight to business:

''I am pleased to be here and see the fruits of this experiment. Have you noticed any problems or abnormalities with these children?

''That would depend on your definition,'' Linus spoke, frowning. ''Of course the Muggleborns are different from those who grew up with magical parents, but that is to be expected. So in general, I would say no. Individual cases are a different matter however. We have two exceptionally gifted half-bloods whom I would say go above all norms in that they can already control their magic. A Muggleborn girl of four also recently joined us and seems to show control as well, but she is too young to say for sure and has not been here long enough to study her. The school is a success, I might add.''

''I'll be the judge of that,'' Marvolo spoke, raising an eyebrow. ''It is easy to praise the institution you lead and wish to keep. What are the difficulties you came across?''

''Trying to prevent accidents. So many magical young children together cause a wave of magical outbursts. We have been trained to handle it, of course, but parents are not always happy when their precious toddlers cannot go to their Muggle school because they are recovering from a curse or the other. Parents are also another difficulty... In families with a witch or a wizard it is much easier, but when the parents are both Muggles they do not always agree to only magical feasts being celebrated here, or the food we give them, or the fact that we use 'archaic' technology. The children keep bringing electronic toys and such from home and parents don't understand that it's dangerous or blame us if those then break, despite the school rules clearly banning any electric devices for these exact reasons.''

''Can you not put a ward around the school that makes it impossible to bring electricity in the building? When they physically cannot take it in here, the problem would be solved,'' Marvolo suggested. ''Another possibility against the negative attitude of parents is to punish them or their children. The current consequences of breaking school rules are...?'' he trailed off, raising an eyebrow at Mr Linus, who stared back unabashed.

''Those we were instructed to give. For light disruptions only chores or writing lines. For those who break rules more often or more heavily, heavy punishments are also dished out, although the level of pain inflicted upon the child varies greatly depending on what they did. We most commonly use stinging or burning hexes which can be healed easily afterwards and do not cause mental damage. While legal, the Cruciatus has not been necessary yet. Most of the children are too excited to be here and learn about magic to get into trouble.''

You allow them to magically punish the children? Harry asked, worried. Won't that damage them? You can get a lot done from a child by just talking to it...

But that takes valuable time away from those children who did not do anything and wish to learn without anyone claiming attention from the teachers with bad behaviour. Before Dumbledore came to be Headmaster, corporeal punishments were also regularly given at Hogwarts, and will be again. Punishing my followers with pain also always helped to keep them in line. And as they said before, it is not always used, only with regular disobedience. Which meant the first punishments already did not help.

Harry seriously doubted hexing children was a great way to get them to warm up to magic. The Dursleys had caused him pain as punishment, and in return he had killed them. He hoped that they were not raising their own enemies by using inappropriate punishments.

The Dursleys abused you, often for minor incidents or even only for existing. The staff is not beating their students within an inch of their life Harry, and certainly not without stating the exact reasons for it.

It is still, to a lesser degree, abuse, and will breed the same feelings and consequences heavy abuse has, Harry stubbornly threw in. Then, he remained silent again, for he noticed that the room had grown very quiet again as they all awaited their Lord's reply to the explanation.

''If you have such a large problem with them breaking the rule regarding electronics, p the punishment for that rule specifically. However, make sure to regularly check the children to see if they are physically and psychologically well. We don't wish to make any of them unstable. If you notice any psychological problems, keep punishment to chores, lines, and talks with their parents.'' Happy now?

Harry had a hard time to suppress a smile. I had not expected you to listen to me in any way.

I would make for a miserable husband if I did not. I don't want to risk you not showing up when the time comes. ''How do you handle complaints from Muggle parents?'' Marvolo wanted to know, not waiting for Harry's answer.

''Ms Rabnott is responsible for handling parental relationships. Ms Rabnott, if you will...''

A young, blonde woman stood and bowed shortly once more. ''Only magical parents are allowed in the school regularly, and Muggle parents are kept out as much as possible. They have no say in the parental board either so they cannot meddle in the magical education the children receive, and this caused quite some friction with the Muggles. Complaints about this are dealt with swiftly though, for it clearly states in our school rules that we can deny entry to any person we deem not stimulating to the learning environment. This is of course backed up by the Decree of protection of magical property, which states that Muggles can be removed from magical property if they have no business there for themselves. Their children do not count as a part of themselves, and thus they cannot take any legal steps against it. Muggle parents can enter twice a year though, for guidance talks and for us to inform them how their children are faring. Here we also note any further complaints they have and try to solve any problem we can as long as it does not go against our school guidelines. So far we have not had any major problems.''

''Good. Any other issues you would wish to discuss?''

Mr Linus scraped his throat and Ms Rabnott sank down in her seat again with elegance. ''Two, actually. The first one regarding the books we had to use for our curriculum. Most were no issue to buy, but for spell examples the book listed was the 'Grimoire of Merwyn'. We know the book in question includes many interesting dark spells that shall soon be introduced at Hogwarts again too, but it is very hard to find. As of now, we only have four copies for the entire school, as it is not being printed anymore. Attempts to magically copy it were also futile because of copyright spells woven around them. A similar problem we have is with 'Gateway to our past', which describes the generally known as well as forgotten passages of history, also from the viewpoint of several creatures. We've had to do with 'History of magic' up until now because we just cannot get our hands on enough copies. After contacting the other two elementary schools, we found they had similar troubles.''

''I'll see what I can do then to get new prints of these two books. I suppose the problem may lie in that both used to be on the list of banned books, and even now they are not anymore, not every bookshop is aware of that.''

''It is much appreciated, my Lord. As for our last troubles, we unanimously decided to ask you if we can put up a pet restriction. I know that, to have the students get used to magical creatures you wished to stimulate them having pets as is the case at Hogwarts, but most children are too young and irresponsible to take care of them, and we do not have the space or manpower to babysit so many pets. Owls are still the least problematic as they can generally wait outside without flying off, but cats disturb the lessons, rats have caused many a scare and damage to books or stationary, toads are slippery traps everywhere, snakes have bitten the children on multiple occasions... the list goes on.''

''I had hoped that it would teach them responsibility, but I can see how it causes more work for you than a lesson for the children... As owls are still acceptable, I would say that the children age eight or older are allowed an owl.''

''That should greatly reduce the damage, thank you.''

''If that was all, I would like to move on with the program.''

''Yes, of course,'' Ms Hobday said, jumping up from her chair and hastily reaching for the door again. ''I shall go and announce break time is over to have everyone return to the classrooms. Please give us a few minutes, then I will come and get you so you can have a look at how we teach here. Our new intern will also be delighted to meet you, I'm sure. She was... very enthusiastic about your recommendation, My Lord.'' The slight hesitation made Harry wonder. It looked like Ms Hobday was not very happy with this new intern herself.

''You recommend interns now?'' Harry asked him softly, curious. He understood that the man had wanted to hire the staff himself, but then why would there be a need for additions after? And not even as official teachers?''

''You'll see.''

The corridors were empty still, but the school was full of noise now, and Harry could see the children sitting in the classrooms, waiting for their teachers to return. He had to admit that it all looked a lot more organised than it had been at his elementary school. If the teacher was out of the classroom, hell had been raised, and Harry had usually gotten the blame because his classmates had known that Harry had no parents to defend his position. On occasions, Dudley had even come into his class when the teacher was absent just to break things. He'd loved breaking the properties of people younger than he was, and none would stand up to the biggest bully of the school. It was amazing how much progress his cousin had made from then.

''Harry!'' For a moment Harry was very confused about the light, delighted voice that spoke his name, and when he turned around, he half expected to be standing in the halls of Hogwarts again. The corridor did not change, but it somehow became a lot brighter by the presence of the girl he saw.

''Luna?'' he exclaimed with a baffled voice.

''You came to visit, how wonderful! I'm so sorry you have to see me in this though, they didn't let me wear any brighter colours.'' she sighed dreamily, fumbling with her dark blue robes, which contrasted strongly with her blond hair.

''You wore black and blue in Hogwarts too,'' Harry reminded her, smiling. ''It never made you look dreary though. Whatever you wear, your personality makes it brighter.''

She gave a lighthearted laugh at that. ''You sound like dad.. he's the only person other than you who ever gives me compliments. But he has to because he's my dad... why do you?'' Harry couldn't help himself and stepped closer to pull her into a hug. He knew she did not mean it, but her words stung right through his heart. The knowledge that everyone else, even his best friends, saw her as just a weirdo was painful to him.

''Because you deserve it. So, what are you doing here?''

''Well, I don't know if you heard, but I left Hogwarts. Dad thought it was too dangerous there for me now, with the Quibbler publishing only articles conforming with the Ministry. I was bored, and when I heard they set up a school in the town I lived at, I thought it was a good way to tell children about all the wonderful discoveries I've heard of and seen.'' She rummaged around in the bag she was carrying with her, a rucksack that hung on one of her shoulders and was completely made out of patches of different material. From the depths of it, she fished a book Harry recognised as the one Marvolo had written on magical creatures and lent Luna for a while at the start of September. ''This is still the only book that mentions Nargles, did you know that?''

''That's great. But what do you mean with the town where you live? I never knew you lived this close to the Burrow!''

''Yeah, just over the hill, really. You can come over for tea if you want to, then I could also show you the statue I made for Ginny. It's right next to the one of Ravenclaw, although I couldn't give Ginny a diadem as well.''

Harry had completely forgotten that both girls used to be good friends, and he didn't know what to say, other than a stuttered 'yeah, will do.' The thought of Ginny was still a painful one too, and to see how easily Luna appeared to be dealing with it felt slightly.. off. It had only been a couple of days ago... She suddenly looked at him with sharp eyes, much brighter than usual. ''She wouldn't want you to feel sad for her,'' Luna whispered, patting his shoulder. Then, she straightened and skipped ahead. ''Come, I want to show you my class!'' After a look at Ms Hobday, who cast a disapproving glance at Luna but stiffly nodded, Harry and Marvolo followed her. The man had not exchanged a word with Luna, but it felt as if Harry had missed a mutual welcome between the two, for Marvolo was not at all affronted or feeling ignored.

Harry followed directly behind Luna and looked with interest at the curious faces that turned to meet his. All of the children were dressed in what looked like a mini-version of the standard Hogwarts uniform, minus the House colours. They were varying in age, which made sense with the explanation that had been given to him before. ''They're normally not so quiet,'' Luna spoke, giggling slightly. Harry saw that all of their gazes had moved past him to rest on Marvolo, who had removed his hood so there would be no mistake in who they were looking at. The man just loved being dramatic in everything he did... His friend walked up to the front of the classroom to stand behind the desk and address the class. ''Everyone, today we have guests, so be on your best behaviour! No nagging please. Oh, you wanted to say something, High Minister?''

Marvolo was a bit taken aback by how she addressed him. It was true that for most of his non-followers , he had taken on that title so they would not need to call him 'You-Know-Who' anymore, but Luna and her father had supported them before and knew full well that his followers still called him 'My Lord', just like Ms Hobday did. Just shrug it off, Harry advised him. I don't think she means it as an insult. It's Luna, maybe she just likes the word better, that's all. You don't have to search for an ulterior motive.

Taking Harry's words to heart, Marvolo walked up to the desk and faced the class of children who were looking at him with a mixture of fear and astonishment. Harry seriously wondered why his fiancé felt the need to give a speech to a couple of children who might not remember anymore in few years time. Harry couldn't even recall the names of his teachers from back then anymore.

''Magic is full of miracles,'' the man started, his eyes flicking over the faces of each and every child in the room. ''And you are part of the first generation who has the potential to fully see all of these. Only a year ago, your magic went unnoticed, your superiority to your Muggle counterparts unrecognised. This has all changed now, and I want all of you to fully realise what this means. You make up the future of this world, and you will help shape it in its values and beliefs. Your education here forms the base of what will be the greatest magical revolution this country has ever seen, and from it we will build a glorious future where magicians can exert their powers freely, without the restraint of having to be secretive about it. Embrace your powers, and the knowledge given to you, and you will all find yourself welcome in the society I created. I am Lord Voldemort, High Minister of the New British Empire, and I tell you now that you can decide what role you play in this country. If you embrace your magic and the culture that comes with it, you can rise to power, beyond your Muggle ancestry and perhaps even be the founders of new lines of magical blood. If you do not, you will become an outcast, no better than the Muggles themselves. It is your choice to make.'' The threatening words hung in the classroom, but judging the blank faces, his words had not taken hold.

Love... that was a great speech, but these are children... you're not speaking to adults here. I doubt even half of them grasped what you said.

Why don't they understand? came a frustrated reply. How should I make clear to them what I want to say?

Not everyone was as smart of a kid as you apparently remember being, and some of them are only four or five. I don't know how to say it any better though, I don't have any teaching experience apart from Quidditch.

Try, please.

Sighing, but having a weak spot for the man using 'please' for once, Harry walked up as well. ''Hello everyone,'' he started. ''I don't know if you know me, but my name is Harry. Harry Potter.''

''CC go!'' one of the girls in the class shouted, then slapped her hands in front of her mouth, giving Ms Hobday a guilty look. Harry blinked and tried not to burst out in laughter. To these children his status as Captain apparently was more well-known than the whole Boy-who-lived nonsense.

''Yes, thank you for the Chudley Cannon support. I'm glad to have such great fans! So, I'm sure you're all very smart, but the High Minister used a lot of difficult words, so I'll explain shortly. What he wanted to say is this: You are all growing up in a really new and magical world, and we just hope that all of you want to be a part of it and that you will do your best to fit in best you can. Because who you will become, whether it's a dragon tamer or quidditch star or a teacher yourself, it's all up to you and up to how much you learn, okay?'' he pondered on whether to translate the whole 'superiority over Muggle' sentences too, but decided that there really wasn't any good in feeding these kids hatred against their own parents. Learning here had to be a positive experience for them.

A few children turned around and talked among themselves, then turned around and shouted ''Yes, Captain!'' in unison, while some of the older children who had understood Marvolo's first speech frowned a bit and sat in silence.

''Hey, I'm only saying what he said, don't forget who you should clap for,'' Harry hastened to say, and made a bow to Marvolo as good example.

I can get used to that, the man commented, smirking.

I bet you could. I also bet you won't.

Winner takes the hindmost? The suggestive tone made Harry roll his eyes and turn back towards the class.

''I'll give word to your fabulous teacher again. Luna?''

The girl smiled brightly and floated to the front of the class. ''We'll continue from where we left off before the break, at runes,'' she spoke, not bothering with thank-you's and the like.

As Luna launched into the lesson, Ms Hobday led her guests to two seats at the side from which they had a good overview of the class. The teacher herself stayed as well, making it quite obvious that she had little faith in Luna. Her fear was not realised in the case of this lesson at least, for the girl had not been a Ravenclaw for nothing, and despite her sometimes odd connections when she described a certain rune as having a specific colour or feeling to her that had little to do with the actual symbol as far as Harry's knowledge of it went, Luna's explanations were quite well-adapted to beginners. Whenever Hermione had tried to teach him or Ron a bit about the subject, Harry had not been able to make heads or tails out of the symbols and their explanations. Marvolo and Lucius had done a far better job teaching him, but they as well were obviously used to dealing with people who already had at least a basic knowledge on the subject and preferred to go into the more complicated aspects of runes such as rune clusters, inverted runes, variations and combinations with spells. This was the first time that Harry actually saw the single elements that made up those clusters and now also finally knew why a rune had so many different meanings due to one symbol being associated with a specific tree, animal, flower etcetera.

Unlike the staff, the children looked like they absolutely loved their teacher, who procured colourful and moving drawings of several runes and their associated objects. Finally, she gave them the assignment to pick their favourite rune and make a similar drawing, before she wandered over to Harry. ''Do you also want some parchment?'' she asked, and it took a moment for him to understand that she meant it dead serious.

''I... erhm, no thank you. I'd rather watch the kids draw. I like drawing but...'' he didn't even know why, but it would feel rather awkward to participate in the class as if he was one of those kids. Luna wasn't deterred by it, only shrugging her shoulders and glancing over at Marvolo, who had been talking to Ms Hobday about how several other subjects were taught.

''You two are well?'' his friend suddenly asked out of nowhere, her dreamy eyes looking at the drawing of a girl near them who was furiously scratching what looked like a red hook on the parchment.

''Of course, why?''

''I haven't seen you bow before, but if it's okay, then it's okay. You're good with kids.''

''Thanks. I was hoping I wouldn't mess up to be honest,'' he whispered.

''So do I, every day. Lily, can you come here for a moment?''

Harry jumped for a moment at the name, as his mind had been on his parents ever since they had dismantled Britain's first, but then he felt like an idiot. Lily was quite a common name, certainly under Muggles. It wouldn't surprise him if at least five people in this school were called James either. The girl who had shouted 'CC go' before left her seat, taking her paper with her.

''Yes Ms Luna?'' she asked, looking a bit nervous.

''Show Harry your drawing darling, I know you're really good at it.''

Smiling shyly, Lily gave the parchment to Harry. ''It's the laguz rune,'' she proudly proclaimed as Harry looked at the coloured rune. ''It's twice in my name too if I spell it.''

''It's very good,'' he smiled as he looked at the squiggly blue lines that were all around and probably portrayed water. ''You'll be a great artist and witch one day.''

''I already am!'' she huffed, and ran back to her table.

''I think it's time for us to go,'' Marvolo suddenly announced. ''You can tell Linus that I am pleased with the work done here. Harry, come, we still have somewhere else we need to be.''

A bit confused about the sudden leave, Harry connected their thoughts, only now noticing that being around the children had made the man nervous. Looked like someone couldn't handle kids yet. ''Alright. Bye Luna, it was great seeing you again. I'll take up your offer for tea another time. Good luck!'' The girl waved them off and went to collect the drawings as Harry and Marvolo were guided back to the entrance by Ms Hobday. When the woman went back inside, he asked: ''So... where exactly do we have to go?''

''To the place that has been haunting you for days now,'' the man mysteriously answered, holding out an arm. Hesitant, Harry took it wondering what place that could be.


They landed on a broad cobblestone road that went slightly downhill. It was empty, and only in the distance could he hear the noise of people. A sudden shock went through him when his fiancé spoke: ''Welcome to the place you were born. Godric's Hollow.''

As if to confirm him words, a cold wind suddenly blew through the streets, making the street sign reading 'Godric's lane' wiggle. ''Godric's Hollow? I did not see that one coming... I can't believe I've never been here before,'' Harry softly spoke, looking over the houses. In his imagination the town had been lively, perhaps a bit like Hogsmeade with quirky slanted roofs and a warm feeling being emitted from every building. Reality was very different: many houses were boarded shut, others had the doors unhinged and windows shattered. It was nothing like the idyllic town he'd imagined his parents had lived in. ''What happened here?''

Marvolo placed his hand on Harry's shoulder and the teen leaned into him, searching for support and answers. ''Godric's Hollow is home to one of the largest magical communities in Britain. The Potters lived here for generations, and so did the Dumbledore's, the Bagshots, Wrights, Williams, to name a few. Gryffindor himself was the founder, not that the Muggle residents had any clue. After we took over London, the Muggles in this town found out about the status of Godric's Hollow and, well, weren't very happy to know that they lived in one of the most densely populated magical communities. On their part, the witches and wizards were also tired of their Muggle neighbours. It is very frustrating to have to hide when knowing the rich magical history of the place you live in, just because Muggles insisted on moving here too. As a result, a small-scaled war between magicians and Muggles took place here, which, unsurprisingly, we won. Few Muggles were allowed to stay, only those who supported magic from the very start when we went out in the open. The street we stand on now was one of the many in which mostly Muggles lived, and now they are gone.''

''Did that happen in more towns? I can't remember any media coverage of it.''

''Of course neither the Prophet nor the Quibbler were allowed to publish anything regarding these incidents. It would only ostracize the Muggles further from us if it became known that they were forced out of their homes. No, they were sent on their way with their memories altered and a sudden desire to move elsewhere. It happened in other places too, but to a far lesser extent. The only places with a higher magical population are Hogsmeade, which held no Muggles in the first place, and London. There are a total of twenty-one other larger towns, but either magicians live further out as is the case in Ottery-St.-Catchpole, where we just came from, or they don't care as much about sharing with Muggles. We've only had troubles in Barnton, Ilkley and Montrose as of now. In Puddlemore and Holyhead the respective Quidditch teams actually helped to forms bonds between the populations by collaborating with Muggle sport teams. I believe that Ludo Bagman -you should know him, he was at the Triwizard Tournament,- is trying the same thing right now with Wimbourne, but he was never such a great diplomat, so we'll see.''

''Bagman eh? Glad to hear that he survived the war. I always liked the guy. He tried to help me get through the Triwizard Tournament by offering help and tips, did you know that? At the time I didn't really trust him, but in the end he turned out to have been one of the few people who genuinely just wanted to help me and not lead me into a death trap,'' Harry gave his lover a pointed look, and Marvolo scraped his throat.

''Yes, well, no need to speak of such old stories. It all worked out, didn't it? What do you want to see here first? Your old house? The memorial statue?''

''The graveyard,'' Harry spoke with determination. He wanted to see if he could feel anything of his parents there. Somehow, he would have liked to come here during winter instead of May, when everything would have been covered in snow. It felt more fitting for a graveyard to be silent, solemn and cold, not to be overgrown with flowering plants lifting their heads to the warm sun. At least a bit of rain would have helped, but of course today was one of the few days rain did not drench every inch of Britain. In fact, he noted, it hadn't rained for a while now. The last time he could recall it raining was the day he'd returned from Hogwarts. Hopefully that wouldn't mean summer would be skipped this year.

As they walked down to the sun-lit square in the middle of town, more people came into view, wearing the latest fashion in robes with many different tints of green, a line Madam Malkins had started to show support to their silent leader, as everyone knew now that the Dark Lord was the heir of Slytherin. Harry wondered if the sudden change in fashion was really done in support or in rebellion. After all, it also showed that whoever wore it knew exactly who was really pulling the strings, and that the Minister of Magic did not make all decisions, no matter what official records said about that. Partially that was also Marvolo's own fault though, because 'High Minister' was pretty obviously above the Minister of Magic.

People left and right either bowed, hurried out of their way, or did both. It was certainly a great difference to London, where so many had looked happy with the changes that had been made, and Harry remembered what Marvolo had just said: the town had been founded by Gryffindor, and many Gryffindors had also held together here, the same way his parents had done. They were bound to be wary of the Dark Lord whom they had fought against for so long. Still, it was not a great concern. After all, word had spread that those of all former Hogwarts Houses could make it in the current government, Sirius Black, the Weasleys and Harry himself being prime public examples.

Finally, they reached the end of the sloped street to the main village square on which a market was being held, selling all kinds of wares. Interested, he wandered through the stalls, trying not to take notice of the fearful stares the vendors gave his silent companion who hovered behind Harry like a bodyguard. Rich fumes came from the stands with herbs and other potion ingredients in front of which people haggled over prices. Had the town looked like this too when it had been founded, centuries before the Statute of Secrecy had been put into place? Witches and wizards openly gathering around to casually shop for magical amulets, spell scrolls and ingredients?

''My Lord!'' Marvolo and Harry both turned, and the teen tried to figure out if he had seen the woman who came towards them before. She was in her thirties, he guessed, and wore a short-sleeved battle robe which had the clear purpose to show off her dark mark. At least second circle then, before the war. The Mark had been given to a few of the second circle who had fought exceptionally well during any of the major battles, even though it did not alleviate their rank to Inner Circle anymore. It had become a symbol of great privilege and service. The scars that marred her skin spoke volumes as well. Harry let his gaze wander over the square, not too interested in every single one of Marvolo's followers kissing the man's feet, but more so in the reactions of the bystanders. A mixture of hostile looks, people hastily looking away, and confident, proud expressions were what he saw. They still had a lot of work to do.

As he turned the corner of another stall, his gaze fell on the statue in the middle of the square: a man, woman and baby in gleaming bronze. As if a magnetic force pulled him towards it, Harry crossed the square, holding his breath. So the disguise of a Muggle memorial he'd been told about had been taken off then. A small engraved plaque was at the foot of the statue, and Harry whispered the words quietly: ''In remembrance of the courageous family who honoured the name of our village. Love shall conquer darkness, no matter the price.'' He sighed at the words, conflicted. The intention of those who had created the memorial had been pure, but Harry wondered why it was still here. Yes, that night had ended the first reign of the feared Dark Lord, but now he ruled again, uttering such thoughts was close to heresy. Looking up, he saw that passers-by avoided his gaze. A second after, he realised that it was not him they were avoiding, but his lover who had silently snuck up behind him, apparently done talking with his devoted follower.

''Ironic, isn't it?'' Marvolo spoke, fingers stroking Harry hair and neck. ''Back then, everything was so different, and here we are now.''

''Yes, here we are'' Harry whispered, accepting the hands that rested on his shoulders as his lover stood behind him. The people around them slowed down, curious looks now entering their eyes, but Harry did not care about them anymore. ''Does this thing not count as an act of rebellion?''

''Perhaps, but it is the only statue of you in the country. Also, it serves as a memory to me of that I should never think myself untouchable. I might have to do something about the plaque however. The text is not very fitting, certainly not with where we stand.''

''How about a new text? 'The birth of the next Dark Lord?'' Harry joked.

''Or 'the corruption of love in darkness?''' Marvolo suggested, but Harry could hear the amused undertone.

''Maybe...'' he answered, looking pensively at the monument, how the sun shone on his mother's golden hair, the bronze flowing in a way only an artwork created with magic could, every single strand clearly defined. And his own sleeping face as a baby, the forehead devoid of the lightning-shaped scar. As beautiful as the statue was, Harry knew he would not find the feelings or answers he searched for here, only the longing for a family he would never have, something that could not be anymore. Closure was the last thing he would receive from staring at the faces of his parents.

Abruptly, he shrugged Marvolo's hands off and walked away in the direction of the graveyard. He needed to know if he would feel what he wanted there, needed to know if he could finally lay his guilt to rest with the bones of his parents. They were gone, he knew that. Whatever protection his mother had given him that night the prophecy had been fulfilled was gone as well, protection Dumbledore had claimed had been surrounding Harry all those years, the old fool's excuse for sending Harry back to the Dursleys. Vernon and Petunia were gone now too, and it had been so satisfying to watch them die... Now the past with his horrible family was a closed book, would he be able to close the chapters before that as well?

He could feel Marvolo trailing behind him, keeping at a slight distance. A feeling of worry and a need to protect was emitted into Harry's mind, enveloping him and keeping him safe. A low cobblestone wall came into view, surrounding a small stone church that had been kept in better condition than most of the Muggle houses. Did the magical community use it too? A worn-down path led to the side and back of the church, a sea of gravestones spreading out till under the shrubs and trees that formed the border. Harry considered using his wand to find the headstones he wanted to see, but decided against it, hoping he would come across any other known names on his search. Most stones belonged to Muggles, but as he wandered through the narrow lanes, he saw several Abotts that could have been from the magical branches, a few Weasleys and a Longbottom.

And then, he nearly did a double-take as he stood in front of the slightly weathered marble tombstones, having almost walked past due to letting his eyes only wander over the names and dates. But there was no mistake, Lily and James Potter were here... in a way. Kneeling down, Harry read the lines displayed on the stone over and over, drinking in the sight. The expected peace did not settle in, and with the minute he felt only more foolish for holding so strongly onto the thought that this would solve all of his problems. Looking up, he noticed that Marvolo was nowhere to be seen anymore, and reaching out with his mind he found that the man had entered the church to see the architecture. A smile settled on his lips at the thought of the mighty Dark Lord wanting to see Muggle artwork.

Harry stood and dusted off his robes, for his knees were covered in earth and grass stains. ''So, mum, dad...'' he said, wanting to at least get his thoughts off his chest. ''I'm not sure what is at the other side, if there even is anything, but if you are listening then... I'm sorry if I disappointed you by making all the choices I know you never would. But look at our world now. I'm nearly sixteen, but can cast magic whenever I want without being punished. From what I've gotten out of Sirius, I'm sure you would have liked to do that too, dad. He told me a story in which you and him nearly got arrested by Muggle police for driving too fast on that motorcycle of his, the flying one... I'm drifting off track here though. I'm not sorry for actually making all those choices in itself. My life is good now: I play Quidditch for a living, and am glad for the war to be finally over. I'm engaged to the man I love, and have been able to forgive him for killing you, as harsh as that might sound. My life before him was hard, being thrown from abuse into manipulation, and I am happy to finally feel free of worries and fear. I've burned those painful memories a few days ago. I'm pretty sure Vernon and Petunia don't deserve to go to the same place as you did, but if you ever see them, tell them their deaths helped me a lot.''

He hesitated, not sure why he was talking so much to two pieces of rock, but it made him feel like he at least did something useful by coming here. ''I've learned a lot about life in the past year: especially that you can never tell a person's intentions right away. Many I've trusted and confided in turned on me or had been manipulating me all along like Dumbledore, and others whom I never thought of that they would stick with me did anyways. In the case of my fiancé, even those out to kill you one day can be convinced otherwise the next.'' Harry rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet for a while, but could not find anything else add. Wanting to leave a gesture, he picked a few wildflowers from the edge of the graveyard and brought it to his parents' graves, as he did not know how to magically conjure them, a spell he'd seen but had never learned.

Nothing magical happened, disappointing him even further. He knew that souls that had moved on could not suddenly return to earth as ghosts, nor were they constantly watching the living as far as he knew. Still, no sign, no words, no reaction at all made a depressed feeling settle in his chest like a knot. Looking up, he saw Marvolo had left the church and approached him, his long, light robes flapping in the wind, making him look like a hoodless Dementor. ''I could feel your sadness streaming all the way up to there,'' the man spoke. ''Was it not what you expected it to be?''

''I don't know what I expected. I had hoped... hoped that I would somehow feel better and able to let go of their deaths once I saw the place they were buried, but there is absolutely nothing here. My past is something I cannot seem to get rid of.''

''Perhaps you shouldn't. The Dursleys I understood: they were horrible people who treated you badly and deserved nothing more than to be erased from your life in the most gruesome way possible. Your parents on the other hand... they gave their lives in exchange for yours. If you somehow feel like you have to cut the ties with your past because of me, remember that I also only killed my father because he would not accept me, and held onto my other ancestry instead. I hated my mother too for a while, but she was already dead, and in the end I also saw that she at least tried to protect me and keep me alive... Honour your parents Harry, for while we stood on different sides, even I knew they were powerful magicians, and even better parents.''

Harry let the words sink in and looked back at the headstones. ''Never thought I'd hear that from you,'' he mumbled. ''With them being your enemies and all.'' Marvolo hummed and turned around again, looking at a few other graves, and Harry decided to abandon staring at the stones in favour of following his lover back to the entrance. ''Any other wise words?'' he asked, genuinely hoping that Marvolo had more support to offer, for the few spoken sentences had made him feel better than his own rant had been, loosening the knot again.

''You can allow yourself to let go or hold onto your memories of them, as long as you don't force yourself to do one or the other. The pressure will only make you more unhappy. Not to be insensitive, but they are dead, and in the end, is it really so important what they would think of you if they were still alive?''

Chewing his lip, Harry thought about it. Was Marvolo right? Was it really significant what his parents would have thought of him? On one hand, there was truth in that the opinions of the dead should not matter for the living and their memories should not make him feel so guilty, but on the other hand, the fact that the murderer of his parents was telling him this did not really give the words much credibility. He was pulled out of his thoughts when the other abruptly stopped and Harry slammed his nose painfully against the man's hard back. Eyes watering, Harry pressed his hands against his nose and cursed.

''Look at this,'' Marvolo said, ignoring Harry pain, and trough tears, the teen looked at the gravestone his fiancé pointed at, seeing nothing but some mossy patches on eroded stone.

''I don't see anything,'' he said sourly when the pain finally subsided, still rubbing his nose. ''And an apology would be nice.''

''For what, discovering important clues? Look closer.'' Heaving an irritated sigh, Harry looked again, now recognising that beneath the moss was a crude triangular shape carved in the granite. ''It is the Hallow sign,'' Marvolo stated, confirming the conclusion Harry had also just reached in his head.

Harry traced the lines with his fingers. ''I see... the exact same shape as in the book, and your latest Horcrux. What does it say further? And could it not just be a coincidence?''

They removed the moss further, and read the name 'Ignotus Peverell' aloud. After being silent for a few seconds, Marvolo spoke: ''The Peverell brothers are supposedly the ones who were given the Hallows by Death. They are the brothers in the story, and more than likely were the creators of the objects with secret techniques they took with them to their graves.''

''Peverell... do they still have living family that could give us a clue as to where the resurrection stone might be? Finding the last Hallow would at the very least be able to clear up the whole debate over master of death and if I should make a Horcrux or not.''

''Let me think... Their named line died out, as in, there are no people with the surname Peverell anymore that are related to them, but it is possible that descendents still exist... which reminds me of something you once said. Wasn't the third Hallow, the cloak, a family treasure of yours?''

''According to what I heard, I got it from my father, and he from his father... but we're not called Peverell, obviously.''

''It might not always go from father to son. When there are no sons, an artifact like this goes to the one who is closest related in blood, be it a brother, sister or daughter. As this happens, the name of the owner often does not remain the same if it goes to a woman instead, and then to her children again, travelling down a new line. The Potter family may well originate in the Peverell line.''

''That does not help us much though, as we already have the cloak. If a similar process happened with the stone, there is no telling what family might have possession over it.''

''Not necessarily. According to this grave, he died in 1292. If any blood-related family has the item, they must be of pure blood. Many families that came forth from Muggleborns after this date can be scrapped immediately. Of course, many families still remain, but it would be a start. And if-'' The man halted mid-speech, staring into the distance all of a sudden. ''Actually... we might not need to search very far, if my memory serves me well. I never connected the dots before... but if I'm right, that would bring a whole new number of complications.''

''If you're right about what?''

Marvolo's gestures went from his usual elegance to hasty, pacing back and forth in front of the stone and making a jerking motion with his hand. ''Here is not the place. Let's return home, I want to check my facts before I say more. I might have something entirely incorrect in mind. And don't try to probe my mind, I really don't wish to make you excited over nothing.''

With a last look at the graveyard, Harry debated whether or not he also still wanted to visit his old home. His mind had not found rest here with his parents, so why would it in an empty, destroyed building? ''We can go,'' he said, taking Marvolo's arm. ''I'm very curious about what you think you found.''

XxX

Voldemort did not take the time to gather his thoughts upon landing, already striding forward as if he had not just transported himself and his fiancé across the country after a full day. Images swam in his mind and he took care to sort through them as he quickly walked down the path towards the wooden double doors of his manor, trying to find connections or missing points. How could he have overlooked such an important mark as a family crest? The Horcruxes that he'd held in his hands so often, had studied meticulously... why could he right now not remember if the ring had really held the Peverell sign or not? And then there were the words he'd heard spoken by his grandfather, so many years ago...

If there was one thing he was thankful for though, it was his own insight to gather his Horcruxes once knowing that one had been destroyed and that Harry was another. It would have been bothersome to return to the Gaunt home now that all Muggles knew who he was, as he still did not wish to be associated with the Riddles or their home town in any way. He was aware of Harry jogging after him. While the teen had shorter legs, good food in addition to all the Quidditch training had done wonders for his physique and stamina, and Harry did not need to try hard catching up to him as the boy had had to do some months ago. It was really a wonder why Harry had remained so malnourished even when he'd been at Hogwarts. He should not have been lacking in food and also had done sports there... maybe it had just taken a few years, Marvolo mused. Angrily, he then shook his head, noticing his thoughts were drifting off again. Horcruxes. Peverell, Hallows... it all clicked and fit together as if he'd found the final puzzle piece that had been glaringly missing in the middle.

Taking two steps at once, he ascended the stairs and instantly went to the right, entering the room opposite his study, one he hardly ever used. It took a moment to dismantle the wards that made the door unnoticeable, but when he was done and went in, he beheld all the treasures that lined the walls, cloaked under layers of protection spells so none of his followers or enemies would be stupid enough to steal any even if they would. Most were of physical value, but a few, such as a copy of his Hogwarts trophy and his old prefect badge, the only items apart from his diary which held his original name that he had not been able to throw away, were purely there for the memories behind them. It was perhaps the only room in the manor he had not shown Harry before, but he ignored the other for now in favour of walking all the way to the back wall, where his most precious items were stored in a cage of black sticky tendrils which reacted to his own magical signature only. Drawing his wand, Marvolo drew a single Sowilu rune in the air and the tendrils shrank away from the light and disappeared. Next, he removed the other wards layer by layer until finally, his fingers touched gleaming metal.

Bringing the ring on eye-height, his stomach cramped together when seeing that his memory had not betrayed him after all. Etched into the small black stone were white lines forming the familiar symbol of a circle, cut in half by a vertical line and encased in a triangle. Releasing a deep sigh, he turned to Harry and showed his Horcrux, although he noticed how hard it was to actually turn around and present the ring, a piece of his soul now without protection of any kind. It was foolish, considering Harry also had a piece of soul inside himself, but still... The ring was not only a Horcrux, but also a family heirloom that none apart from the his line had ever touched.

''The Hallows... what does this mean? Why is this here?'' Harry asked, taking the item offered to him carefully between two fingers, holding it up in the light to see the sign better.

''It means that the third Hallow was here all along... and that we have a dilemma. You possess the invisibility cloak and the Elder wand, but I was unwittingly the master of the Resurrection stone.''

''You mean... this is...?''

''You received the cloak through your family, from the youngest Peverell brother down the line, as I explained before. But when thinking about further family of the Peverells, I remembered that I have seen the name before when I researched my own heritage. I do not know all the details, but when I gained possession of this ring, my Uncle claimed it had the 'Peverell coat of arms', apparently boasting a long family lineage. How exactly the ring went down the line is unclear: as far as I know, the brother who created the ring died childless too, although the stories could have misleading information. It might have gone to the younger brother and from there down female lines already before the cloak did, given to others than the first son.''

''But if you are related to Slytherin and to the Peverells, does that mean the Peverell line comes from Slytherin?''

Marvolo gave him a look as if to say 'Is that important now?' but answered anyways: ''It doesn't have to. The Peverell brothers came two centuries after Salazar Slytherin. Just because I am related to both does not mean they are related to each other too. I mean, look at your own lineage. One of your grandmothers was a Black, one of your grandfathers an Evans. Those families had nothing to do with each other before your parents married, and no mixed blood until you were born. Even with how often Pureblood families intertwined throughout the centuries, there are dozens of families I am related to, but they were not necessarily related to each other before my birth.''

''I always somehow thought the ring was a Slytherin heirloom, just like the locket was, but now that you explain it like this I don't even know if you ever mentioned it being from Slytherin too. It would make sense that not everything in your family comes from that one ancestor, even if you regard him to be the most important one. But what do we do now? We wished to find the Stone to see if I could use them to become 'Master of death', but when the Hallow is yours already and even holds your soul... I don't know how to proceed further.''

''As I said, a dilemma. We don't know how the stone is 'won' other than by inheriting it, and I don't plan to die again. And even if it could be yours if I just gave it to you, what would happen to my soul if you use it for other purposes? These questions are also not easily answered, for we have no comparable items to simulate such a situation with.''

Groaning, Harry let himself lean against the now closed door. ''Whenever we get a step closer, something just has to ruin our plans.''

''Don't be over-dramatic, we achieved quite a bit without major disappointments or set-backs.'' He fell into silence after that, taking the ring back. His mind reeled with possibilities of how to solve this to fit their plans. No matter from what angle he approached it, every time he reached the same conclusion, and it struck terror in his whole being: in order for the stone to work properly, it could not be a Horcrux at the same time. He loved Harry, but he could not and would not give up this piece of his soul. Since the diary had been destroyed and he had to make another Horcrux to keep the count at seven, the soul in his body had shrank even further, and he knew that making another was not a possibility anymore. But how could he live with six pieces only, stoop down from the divine level he had reached, only to become less than he was now? The change had been palpable the moment he'd completed the task he'd set before himself at last: he could see magic in the air, hear the faintest whisper, could steer his magic with only a vague thought and control it better than he ever had before. The destruction of even a single of his soul-anchors would reduce his very being and the abilities he had gained.

With suspicion, he glanced at his fiancé, knowing that Harry could feel every emotion that went through him now: the intense fear of his absolute immortality being taken away. A sad smile graced the teen's face, and clear, piercing green eyes met his with confidence. ''You should not be afraid of or for me, Marvolo. I am not going to steal your life away from you. I wish I could live at your side forever, but not at the cost of damaging you. I dislike Horcruxes, but if that is the only option left to me, I might still decide to take it when I grow older. Not yet, but someday...''

''But you are vulnerable now,'' the Dark Lord insisted, nearly pleading. He could not give Harry the stone, could not make him Master of Death, but he did not fully grasp Harry's hesitance to seek immortality with other, secure methods. ''You nearly died before, and it can happen again. You could become like me, surpass humanity in all its limitations...''

''And shred my soul... give up a chance to go to the afterlife if I ever wish to lay myself to rest. Eternity is a long time, and not everyone is so afraid of dying as you are. I'll rather take my chances with protection spells and avoiding fights for now than to risk the possibility of losing myself. It was different for you: you were used to dark magic years before you made your first Horcrux, but I only just started after years of nearly only using light magic. I have no idea what splitting my soul could do to my mental state, and here I just healed it. No, if I choose to become immortal at one point, it will be after a long time of contemplation and studying dark magic to ensure I can handle it.''

''But you have to. If not for yourself, then for me,'' the man insisted. ''If you only think of it as a far-away possibility, then you might as well annihilate this ring right here and now and use it as the Hallow it is, for you should not forget that you too are one of my Horcruxes. If you were to die, the exact same fate would befall me as when I would have to give up the piece I hold in my hand now.'' From Harry's words, Marvolo gathered that the teen saw immortality as a way to spend more time at each other's sides, but there was so much more to it than that.

That realisation made his love very quiet all of a sudden, and the light in the room was reflected in the black stone of the accursed object he held. Harry's chance for protection from the cold hands of death, but also already his own, with no possibilities to transfer it to the other.

''But if I am a Horcrux...'' Harry started again, sounding uncertain. ''Can I even make one myself? I mean, what would happen if I tried to split my soul?'' Voldemort hesitated, not having expected that question nor even having thought about that it could become a problem. Yet another thing he had not accounted for. Was his mind as sharp as he thought it was? Harry was a Horcrux, meaning that he absolutely had to ensure that his fiancé acquired eternal life, but as the first living Horcrux himself that the Dark Lord had heard of, many uncertainties remained, one of which was indeed: could a Horcrux split his own soul without damaging the second soul living in the body? They could not be all too sure about it. Usually when creating a Horcrux, one's soul was ripped, leading to that piece of loose soul to be the one to fully loosen itself and flee into a vessel. As Harry's body already hosted two souls however, it might well be that the process was not that simple anymore. What if instead the two souls in him would divide again? Or if instead of Harry's own soul tearing, it was the shred of Marvolo's soul that got torn even further instead? Unfortunately, the chances for it would be rather high, as the soul was still a foreign object to Harry's body, and thus more likely to rip before the boy's own soul did. In both situations, it could be fatal for his soul.

''I can't say,'' he admitted. ''We have no way to test it out unless you go through with it.'' But wouldn't it defeat the purpose of Harry trying if the chance of it backfiring was so high?

''So basically...'' the other mused, quickly going through the other's thoughts. ''If I remain as I am you will lose a piece of your soul when I die. If I make a Horcrux, there are three options: either it is successful and I become an immortal Horcrux with one of my own, or I remain mortal and your piece of soul is cast out of my body, or that same piece is obliterated altogether, still leaving me mortal. And if you give me the ring, we might have to destroy the soul inside before I can use the Hallow. Still, those are a lot of what-if's. None of those outcomes are certain and we don't even have the percentages of possibility. Can't you just try to give the Hallow to me to see if it works with the Horcrux inside? Because in that case all our speculation would be for naught in the first place.''

Slightly unwilling, he handed the ring back to Harry, who muttered: ''So in the tale of the three brothers, they turned the pebble over three times and thought of the one they wanted to summon...'' Both held their breaths as Harry turned the ring, but even after three flips and a long time of waiting, nothing happened. ''I suppose it would have been too easy,'' the boy sighed. ''The stone will probably need to be separated from it, otherwise I'm not really turning it.''

''Which brings us back to boiling water...''

''What?'' Harry asked, confused.

''Like with a potion... if you mix up the incorrect ingredient, you need to start all over by boiling a new cauldron of water... Did at least Severus never use that expression in class?''

''Oh.. would make sense that you don't use 'square one' for that. And I tried my hardest not to pay attention to anything Snape said to me, for most of his words were used for degrading me. Nevermind... can't you somehow transfer the soul in the ring? Put it in a different container?''

''If that were possible, I would not have had to select the vessels so carefully, nor would I have waited so long in between creating the Horcruxes. And do you not think that I would have removed my soul from its most vulnerable container, namely you, a long time ago if I would have had that option? No, once a soul is tied to an earthly object through this method, it remains there, and only its destruction can change the state it is in, which sadly only ends in death. The one exception might be in your case, if you would seek to separate that piece of me from your own body, but that too would mean the soul would be vanquished. It being cast from your body as you said before would have the same result as it ripping. It cannot transfer anymore.''

Harry sighed deeply and settled down on the floor, face in his hands and his brow furrowed. ''Here I thought I could protect us both by not taking any risks, and now I see that no matter the course I take, I am putting your existence in jeopardy. So what do we do?'' the teen suddenly shouted, pulling at his hair in frustration. ''We can talk all day about the possibilities, but it's not going to make a solution appear! I don't want to destroy the piece in myself or the ring, but pretty much every option comes down to one or the other happening. And unless you can somehow make a second philosopher stone... Can you?''

As soon as Harry's thought had started going down that path, the man was already shaking his head. ''Alchemy was ironically never one of my strong points. I could try to analyse the leftover piece of the stone here but well...''

''It's a Horcrux,'' Harry finished his sentence gloomily.

''Exactly. Plus, it would only lengthen your natural lifespan, nothing more.''

''Vampires after all then?''

''Again, only influences your natural lifespan if we are only talking about the immortality aspect of it. And it has many drawbacks, losing your magic being only one of them. And what would happen to my soul when you turn into a creature like that, I have no idea either. It is still up for debate whether Vampires still have their souls or not.''

Both were musing on their own for a while, and at one point Voldemort sat down next to his love, pulling Harry against him, the teen's head resting at his chest.

''What do you want?'' the man finally asked. He was honestly out of options, and leaving Harry as he was, was arguably the worst option out of all of them. But he knew himself all too well, and would not wish to endanger either his own soul or Harry's life before being certain what each step would bring them to, a luxury they could not afford this time, for there was no way to be certain.

''You know I'm not keen on Horcruxes, even less so now I know that two out of three possible outcomes there lead to it not working and destroying your soul in the process. If it is only about what I would want, I'd still put my faith in the Hallows. There has to be a reason why both of us inherited one and we stumbled upon the third. Perhaps it was meant to be? But as I said before, I understand your fear completely, and will never begrudge you for not wanting to try that.''

Voldemort leaned his head back against the wall and took in the world with his enhanced senses: the dust that whirled through the air, catching the light so they seemed like miniscule golden specks dancing around, inhaled the scent of copper that hung in the room from the many metal items stored here, and felt his own magic all around him from the spells he'd woven over and over again around his treasures. But most of all, he perceived Harry in his arms, catching even the lightest breath and shifting of muscles, and pressed closer to the heat the teen emitted, drinking it into his own, cold body. It was a painful decision to make, one he did not know of if he could go through with, but he had not asked Harry only out of curiousity. He would comply, halting his own raging thoughts about pros and cons. Would he lose a Horcrux? Possibly. But it was also possible if Harry made a Horcrux himself, became a Vampire, or stayed as he was now. He took Harry's hand that still held the ring and looked at the piece of jewelry that lay in the open palm. One dark green eye with a hint of red appeared in the polished black surface, blinked once and vanished again. Slowly he moved to close the boy's fist around the valuable object again.

''Do what you think is best. We can only know once we try. As you said before, you will have to separate the stone from the rest of it. I removed all curses that lay on it, but that does not mean the soul won't fight back.'' On Marvolo's nod, Harry tried to pry the stone from its socket, but it wouldn't budge. ''They are tricky to destroy,'' he spoke, trying to sound emotionless about it.

''But I'm not trying to kill it! I only want the stone to come off! How did it work with your diary? I'm pretty sure Ginny tried to rip out some of the pages and succeeded. On top of that, I also can be hurt: one time all bones in my arm were removed, and I can still cut my hair and nails without a problem.''

''It depends on the nature of the object and the location of the soul inside it. In case of the diary, the soul was primarily stored in the cover and binder that held the pages together. The pages were a tool for it to use and infuse with thoughts and memories at will. With you, considering the mental link we have I'd say the soul is located in or near your brain, leaving the rest of your body still susceptible to removal of limbs or other items without damaging it. In case of the ring though, I don't know... does the soul only use the stone to look into the outside world, or did it settle in that part instead of in the silver? It might be spread all over, considering the ring is such a small object.''

Harry released a frustrated cry. ''Is there anything we can be sure of? Alright, that's it. Hey, Tom! Yeah, I know you still go by Tom! I'm about to crack this stone off so you better make damned sure your delicious ass is tucked neatly in the handle of this thing! I'm giving you five seconds to flee to a safe zone and you'd better not attack me when I'm at it or your older self is going to regret ever making you!'' The eye appeared again in the stone for a second, blinked twice this time and slid away to the side in the silver, presumably into the ring itself. ''I know that you can be reasonable person when it's about self-preservation,'' Harry shrugged at Marvolo's incredulous stare. ''Figured it was worth a shot. Now...'' The Holly wand was pulled from Harry's robes as the boy shifted to a crouching position, putting the tip of the wand at the base of the stone. ''Diffindo!''

A loud crack echoed through the room and the black stone shimmered as it soared through the air. With speed and reflexes only a Seeker could have, Harry jumped up and caught it. As soon as his fingers closed around the object, a flash knocked both of them in opposite directions. Marvolo was at his feet quickly again and erected a cushion-charm just in time that caught Harry and prevented him from smacking into a wall. Had a curse still been left on the stone after all? Had he missed something? But no, that could not be, otherwise he himself would not have been able to pick the ring up. Shocked and confused but thankfully unharmed, Harry now stood a few yards away and stared at the two pieces, the silver ring in one hand and the Peverell stone in the other.

''Was that... was that it accepting me?'' he wondered out loud. Not caring right now about the Hallow, Voldemort checked if anything had changed that could indicate the damaging of his Horcrux. To his intense relief, he found nothing: his senses were still intact, and when he rushed to his fiancés side, taking the ring from the left hand, he could feel the soft, steady heartbeat was still there.

''It worked,'' he whispered, a weight falling off his shoulders. ''It is alive... and you have the stone.''

''Then that means... that I should now be... master of death?''

''Theoretically, yes. I assume you will need to unite the Hallows first. Does anything feel different?''

''No... or... yes. I can feel the other Hallows, feel how close they are. They are calling out to each other.'' the voice sounded far away, and the teen opened the door leading back into the corridor. Conflicted, as the Dark Lord did not wish to leave his treasures unprotected, he finally decided after all to follow his fiancé, as he could not miss history being made, hoping no disaster would befall his precious vessels in the meantime.

They walked along the corridor and turned left to face their bedroom doors, for that was where Harry had stored both other Hallows in case he needed either. Walking through, Marvolo went to fetch the invisibility cloak from the wardrobe and draped it over Harry's shoulders, feeling as if he took part in a ritual of unimaginable importance. Last of all was the wand, stored in a case of wood and velvet. Upon opening it and taking the wand firmly in his left hand, the spell was suddenly broken as every item of glass and crystal shattered when a storm appeared in the middle of the room. One moment nothing had been there, the next they were in the middle of an angrily pulsating dark wind that sliced through the room. Ear-deafening shrieks filled their minds until he could no longer make out Harry's thoughts, not made better by the fact that the other stood completely still with his back turned towards the Dark Lord. The cloak was the only thing about Harry that moved: the rest, from his hair to the rest of his clothes, was still as if frozen in time, untouched by the wind, unlike his lover who had to cast shield after shield to prevent the storm from cutting him up. An eternity later, Harry moved. Or rather, a part of him did: his right hand, which was still clenched around the Resurrection stone, rose and turned over thrice. His voice sounded flat as he spoke:

''I summon you, death.''

XxX

Upon opening his eyes, Harry saw white of the purest brilliance. Looking down at his own body, he saw the only cloth to cover his skin was the invisibility cloak still wrapped around his shoulders, but he did not mind all that much, as no people were around to look at him. Shapes started taking form in the white mist as he walked, but they were large objects: pillars, arches, but nothing alive. He stopped his exploration when he heard crying, and at that proof that he was not alone after all, he suddenly felt a whole lot more vulnerable, but also had the inexplicable urge to go look for the source. What he found was a white, malformed baby lying on the floor, bawling its eyes out. At least he thought it was a baby, but it was hard to really name it as such, for while humanoid and small, the creature was nearly all bone, and out of proportion. Still, he stretched his arms out and cradled it, made more difficult by the stone and wand he held, feeling a familiarity wash over him that he somehow could not place at the moment. It was only then that the memories of before started rushing back and questions formed in his head. How had he gotten here? Where was here? He looked around once more. The white mist had thinned, making ominous large statues visible in the shadows, towering over him.

A voice spoke up, a voice sounding like the wind through leaves that are about to fall off from the tree they clung to in autumn, rustling, rattling.

''Harry Potter. We have been waiting for you.''

It making him whirl around and freeze on the spot when seeing who had spoken. His parents stood before him, and around them a small group of people that Harry did not personally know, but who looked like they could have been his relatives as well. It was as if he was back in front of the mirror of Erised, where he had dreamt up his own family, seeing parts of himself in each and every person. ''Mum? he asked weakly. ''Dad?'' Then he halted, for he saw they all had the same black, unblinking eyes.

''We are death,'' his mother spoke in the same voice as before. ''Appearing in the form most known to you. We are not the deceased, we are death.''

Swallowing, Harry took a careful step back and held the baby tighter to his chest. ''Where am I?'' he asked suspiciously. ''Am I dreaming?''

''You would call it limbo, the world in between life and death where souls may linger before moving forwards... or back. You summoned us, but we cannot appear in front of the living. Hence, we brought you here.''

''Why were you waiting for me?''

''Not you... necessarily. Anyone who would reunite our gifts, the gifts we gave mankind before the betrayal.''

''So these...'' Harry pointed with his chin at the Hallows, ''Were really made by death? By you, I mean?''

''I bestowed the knowledge and skill to craft these items to three promising necromancers, who in turn gave me their word to use them to aid me in my work. I can see the lifelines of every living creature, and how they intertwine if they are left to the natural course. And yet, some are better off passing on earlier to preserve important beings or ideals. I am helpless as I watch on, fated to only touch those whose lifeline has ended. With my Hallows, one gains a new lifeline, one that goes on endlessly as long as my goals are met: to intervene in the lines of those who need to die prematurely. Muggles will kill magic. Humanity will kill itself, and with it all that lives on this earth. It has to be stopped, so my purpose will not end. The necromancers were supposed to kill those I deemed to deserve an untimely end, but they betrayed me, created the Hallows and used them for their own gain. I cursed the objects to wander through time from hand to hand until finding one who was worthy of fulfilling their original purpose, the task I set.''

Harry thought for a moment, then asked: ''But why would you be interested in disrupting the natural course? Are you not part of that nature?''

''I care about preserving myself and my purpose. Without it, I am nothing and will fade as well. I cannot allow all life to perish without a future. I must stop the end of all.''

''So...'' Harry felt quite foolish for asking, but he had to know. ''So the whole 'master of death' business is-''

''Lies,'' It was the James look-a-like who had spoken this time, hissing the word through pointed teeth. An angry ripple went through the crowd. ''We have no master. We do what we were created for, but answer to none. The necromancers thought they had cheated me and boasted with that title, but their lines ended nonetheless, for the Hallows did not protect their worthless lives. The youngest ran from me longest, always hiding, but he played right into my hands. Had they fulfilled their duty, they could have lived till the end of time, but short-term greed made them blind.

''The Hallows really do make one immortal then?'' the teen asked.

''In the right hands and with my permission, yes. They change your lifeline, transform it so it always weaves through those of others without ending, rewriting fate itself. I will never have to touch you. Will you accept my task and keep the Hallows, or will you leave them behind here and return empty-handed?''

Harry swallowed hard. He'd never thought that having the Hallows would involve taking orders from death itself to be some sort of personal assassin. But as Marvolo had mentioned multiple times, immortality could not be expected to come free of charge. His grip tightened on the baby in his arms. Knowing now that he was in limbo, he finally knew what the child was. Odd, considering the last time he had spoken to the Horcrux it had looked the same age as Marvolo had been on the night of Halloween when Harry had received the scar and the soul.

''Under one condition,'' he answered at last. ''That you will never order me to kill my beloved.'' If death was after those who took other's lives, Marvolo might be on the list after all. Every face in the group grinned, showing off their teeth once more, grins far too wide to fit on human faces.

''Voldemort... the one of whom you hold a piece now. No, you will not need to interrupt in his lifeline, for his vanished when he first split his soul.''

''What?''

''You do not need to know the details, only this: as far as I am considered, he is already dead. He influences others still, this is true, but he is not truly alive. When the time comes, both his body and soul will disappear without a trace. A tragic end, but he chose to rule his own fate and will pay the price for it.'' Harry shuddered at the gleeful tone, and it also confirmed his own fears considering the creation of Marvolo's preferred way of gaining immortality. The man could live as long as the vessels were not harmed, but if in time someone would manage to destroy the Horcruxes and his love would die... there was no afterlife, no rebirth, just nothingness.

''I take on your task then,'' Harry spoke. ''I will intervene in lifelines for you.'' He might as well. It sounded like a goal worth striving for if it was to preserve life as a whole. And he could hardly return now with the message that he lost the Hallows and was still mortal to boot.

''Excellent. you will hear from us again. In the meantime, use the Hallows as you please, as long as none are killed through them that I did not wish to. You will suffer the consequences if you break that rule.'' Harry wanted to ask more, such as how he would be contacted, but in the next moment he opened his eyes and stood in the bedroom, which looked like a tornado had gone through it. The bed was in shambles, and all through the room lay splinters of glass and wood. The plaster had come off the wall, creating clouds of dust, and broken furniture and ripped up books were scattered over the floor.

''Harry...'' The teen turned around, rushing to Marvolo's side, who looked exhausted and whose skin was full of small cuts. ''Harry, what happened? You were suddenly not responding and... what happened to your eyes?''

Surprised, Harry picked up a shard of glass from the floor that had come from a mirror and tried to look at his reflection best he could. The emerald eyes he was so used to seeing had intensified in colour, now not only matching the Killing curse in hue, but also in the fact that they quite literally glowed. ''I'll need to hide that somehow. Will be hard to explain,'' he muttered under his breath, and anxiously checked for any other physical changes, relieved when finding the rest of his body was as how it had been before, with messy hair, pale skin that did not seem to tan even when he was outside all day, and with his scar as prominent as ever.

''Did it succeed then? Are you master of death?''

''In a way it worked, but I wouldn't call myself master... follower would be more accurate.'' With the help of their mental link, he showed the other what had happened, and then collapsed next to the man, resting his head on a patch of blanket, ignoring how the rests of the bed creaked, about to collapse further in on itself. He was so glad to be blessed with someone he could just show, someone who would never scoff at him and claim he must have dreamt it.

Marvolo was silent for far longer than Harry would have thought, and started to get worried when hints of panic leaked through the link. ''So death... death exists. But what it told you... no. No!'' Quicker than Harry could follow, the Dark Lord was up, smashing his fist in the wall with a shriek of rage. ''So I gambled off my soul, only to vanish into nothingness?'' Another outraged cry followed, the man's chest heaving quickly in anger before he suddenly calmed down and inspected his fingers. ''But no, this changes nothing. I believed death to be permanent before, and now it still is for me. I am still immortal as long as I have my Horcruxes, and I now have the ultimate protection: you. You are still my Horcrux, and now possess endless life yourself. Even if anyone in the future destroys all my other Horcruxes, you will still be there, until the end of time.'' Harry shivered slightly as Marvolo's tone hinted at a mad desperation. The truth of his own lifeline shifting only now fully got through to him. It had been easy to agree in that dreamlike state, but now he was here, and would be for all eternity. Harry looked carefully at his fiancés face, but the man was no longer angry, instead having a blissful smile at his face, and his lips formed a whisper: ''We shall live forevermore...''

It was worth it.


This was such a fun chapter to write! The story is coming to its end, so please leave reviews about it there are still specific characters you wish to see to find out what they have and will be up to. I hope you will all have a great day!

xx Gemerope