He stepped in front of a rather dilapidated looking shop with an old Phoenician rune edged on the surface of the door. He pressed it open-the door moved forwards with a creak as the dark indoors revealed themselves to him.

"What do you want?" A rather monotonous voice reached his ears. Sitting opposite the closed window on the right, was a disheveled looking man—an Arab by the looks of it.

"Am I speaking to Morganstien?"


FLASHBACK

"Plans changed, Dobby. Here are my orders. Do not under any circumstances; let anyone know that I am here. I may send you for some shopping. In the meantime, I want you to purchase some... stuff from the Egyptian Markets. Do you think you can do that for me?"

Dobby nodded. Good.

A day later, he was ready with a list for Dobby, a list of things he needed. There was also one more thing that was in his mind, though he was debating on whether Dobby would be the right person for the job. Finally, he decided to take the chance.

"Dobby, there is one more thing I want you to do. Can you search for a particular person and let me know of his location? I believe he can be found somewhere in Egypt, presumably in one of the markets."

The elf gave an excited nod.

"Very well. I wish you to find me the location of a man who goes by the name of Morganstien."

The elf suddenly turned stiff.

"What happened Dobby?"

"What does Master want with the Lord of the- I mean, the necromancer?"

Harry raised his eyebrows. "What can you tell me about him, Dobby?"

Dobby vehemently shook his head. "We House elves cannot talk about him. It is the law. We cannot, must not, will not talk about him."

"Even if your master commands you to?"

Dobby shook his head.

Harry sighed. "Can you at least track his location for me?"

Dobby nodded.

Good.

END OF FLASHBACK

"Am I speaking to Morganstien?"

"Do I owe you money?"

Harry smirked at the evasive answer. "No, but you might make some if you aid me in my quest."

"Then yes, you are speaking to Morganstien."

Harry chuckled lightly, entered the shop, feeling the dangerous wards at the door cave in, giving him entry. He was sure that had he not been welcome, the wards would have fried him the moment he set foot inside the room.

"What brings you here?"

"I am in quest for a tome—a particular tome which I believe you have access to. I need it, and am ready to negotiate the price for it."

The man, Morganstien-gave him a curious look. "And what tome might it be?"

Harry held out a tiny slip of parchment, and levitated it towards him. The man caught the parchment, his eyes widened as he read the name.

"I do not have access to any such tome. Get out of my shop." He sounded almost hysterical.

Harry sighed. "Look, I am not intending to use the book for the powers inside them. I intend to know how to counter it in case someone actually performs the forbidden rituals inside it."

The man vehemently shook his head. "I told you, I do not know what it is you speak of. Get out from my shop." Harry felt the wards suddenly change and consider him a threat. He knew he needed to act quickly.

"I have access to a phoenix who even donated me fresh tears willingly."

Bait. Harry thought. It was something he had known from his study into the dark arts. The phoenix was a creature of light and purity and for one to donate his tears to a wizard—it said volumes about the wizard's character. Nothing was a better proof of a person's character than that.

The man stopped shaking, and looked up at him, perplexed. Whatever rebuttal he might have been expecting, this was not it. He considered the situation once again. "How do I know that you are not lying?"

"The tears are in my blood. I can freshly donate you three drops of my blood for you to check it, given you swear an oath that you shall not use my blood for any other purpose." Harry intoned. The last thing he would want to do was intentionally donate his blood to a necromancer.

For the first time, the man smiled at him with a toothy grin.


"You were amazing, Daphne!" Tracy gushed. "I think even Potter would have a tough time trying to beat you down in a duel." Blaise who was standing next to her even shook his head in acknowledgement. "Nice performance, Greengrass."

Daphne smiled. Not a smile of satisfaction, but of humility. Tracy had absolutely no idea about what Potter was, or his true powers and abilities. Whatever she knew at this moment, it was because of him, and Daphne knew it very well that even now she did not know what his true strength was. Yes, he had confided many of his secrets to her, but there were still more questions to which she had no answer. The primal question among all being- what was that thing about being the 'Master of Death'?

She wished Harry would give her an answer to those, but for some reason, he had evaded answering them—telling her that he would share the facts with her sometime later in the future. Daphne as always, did not try to force her argument on him anymore—it would be futile anyway.

Tomorrow, the quarterfinals would begin. She would be fighting against Draco Malfoy-who, for all his faults, had proved himself a good duelist and a proper competitor so far. However, considering everything-there was just one person she had found her fussed on defeating.

Fleur Delacour.

Triwizard Champion. Under-19 dueling champion. Veela. Enchantress. Ruthless, knowledgeable and highly cunning. Then, the most important thing-the person who was trying to take away Harry Potter away from her. The person who had cheated Harry in his last life.

I will not lose to you, Delacour.


"Fleur?"

"What is it now, Caro?" Fleur snapped. She had been in such a spoiled mood ever since the morning. Given how it would be the quarterfinals tomorrow, her mood was not turning out to be any better.

"Will you tell me what it is that's bothering you so much?"

"Nothing is bothering me." She snapped again.

"Of course." Caroline countered sassily. Fleur looked up at her with indignation and sighed. "What do you want, Caro?"

"Just to know what my friend is so troubled about." Caroline confessed. "I have seen the sudden changes in you ever since you arrived here, and I have seen its effects. I just want to know what's happening."

"Nothing that I can tell you. It is family business." She snapped. Looking at the disappointed and hurt face of her friend, her expression changed. "I am sorry Caro, but I am being stretched out into too many things at the moment, some without my intent. That is all."

"I- I understand."

"Thank you." Fleur closed her eyes, hoping to contain the single tear that almost rolled down her cheek.


"Even if I had this tome", Morganstien bartered, "what could you possibly give me that could make me even remotely consider selling the book to you?"

Harry considered it. "I can give you many things, but I wish to hear what might interest you."

Morganstien smiled. "And are you willing to let me have it, the item that interests me?"

"I will consider it."

Wise words. Morganstien thought. "Very well. There is one thing that takes my fancy. If you can bring me that, then I shall barter the tome."

"And what is that?"

"A single piece of wood, at least seven inches long from the Yggdrasil."

Harry frowned. "That is impossible. That tree is just a myth."

"So are demons. And yet, here you are."

Harry considered it, and framed his next words carefully. "I can give you my word that I will get you a piece of wood, seven inches long from the Yggdrasil. However, that will take some time, at least two years for me to do it. However, you shall need to hand over the tome to me right now."

"Will you give me a magical oath?"

"I will."

Morganstien smiled. "Very well Harry Potter, if you wish to take two years, so be it. Then again, it does take a considerable amount of time to take up the mantle of Death." He ignored the growing amount of blank shock that flitted across Harry's face. "What... Harry Potter?" he asked, amused at the young man's expression.

"How do you know who I am?" Harry questioned.

"Oh come now, Harry Potter- you come into an accomplished necromancer's den, you desire to acquire the book of resurrection, and yet you are surprised that I know of you?" he countered amusedly. "I know of you, I know of your predecessor Salazar Slytherin, as well as of the mantle you are readying yourself to take."

"But-how?" Harry gasped.

"You worry about acquiring the Yggdrasil first, worry about my little nuances and chunks of knowledge later on." He smirked. Suddenly, his expression turned serious. "Give me your oath."

Harry gave him the required magical vow, causing the man to stand up and leave the front room. He returned after five minutes, holding a tome in his hands, covered with a red silk cloth. He handed the tome to him, whispering in some obscure language as he did. The tome glowed softly.

"That will keep you safe from the distractions of this tome."

Harry nodded and uncovered the tome, removing the cloth from the surface. There, engraved on the surface were the words...

'Arcana de morte perpetua'

Secrets of the everlasting death.

"I do not know why you fear about demons, considering that your predecessor stands guard against their entry through the hallowed portals of the mortal world, but... be vigilant." He muttered. "Now off with you Harry Potter, or should I say...Peverell." He snapped.

Harry looked at him blankly as he apparated away, nodding in gratitude.


"WELCOME!" Lee yelled into the megaphone, as the cheers answered his commentary. "Welcome to the quarterfinals for the dueling tournament. Today, our eight champions will be facing each other, and from them—the four winners shall move forward to the semi-final matches. Both of the events shall be held today with the grand finale to be held tomorrow." A roar of cheering rose after his announcement.

The stadium had shifted. Gone were the circular rings on the hard ground in which the participants had to fight. This time, the arena looked very different. It was a large square rocky terrain, the length being around at least thirty feet. A huge battleground, for a duel. Huge chunks of rocks were fallen on the ground, creating an uneven terrain.

A battlefield perfect for Transfiguration. Daphne mused.

"The first match is going to be between Daphne Greengrass and Draco Malfoy!"

Cheers abounded the entire stadium as the two duelists arrived at the center of the rocky terrain. Flitwick was refereeing once again. The two duelists stood stiff against each other, and gave each her a bow. Daphne gave the usual standard bow while Draco gave a head jerk.

"Please take your places."

The two duelists moved away to their opposite ends, occupying a position such that there was at least a fifteen feet distance between them.

"Rules are thus. No Unforgivables allowed. Even the attempted casting of one shall lead to disqualification and expelled from Hogwarts if you are a Hogwarts student. Application of the dark arts is also not allowed. Other than that—everything goes. You win when your opponent is incapacitated. No time limit. That is all."

The two duelists nodded.

"Now... Three, two, one...DUEL!"

"Furnunculus!"

"Explodio!"

The two curses from both ends shot towards each other, pummeling into each other midway causing a dense multicolored smoke in the center. Draco raised an elaborate shield and began hurling severing hexes towards Daphne who seemed to have conjured some kind of metallic shield on her hand, using it as her defense as she weaved through the curses. Draco seemed to be relentlessly firing offensive curses towards her, hoping to overpower and overwhelm her. Daphne however, seemed content to dodge, defend, and let Draco tire himself.

"Attack me, Greengrass!" Malfoy spat. "Or are you too weak to do so? Potter is not there to save you here, I take it." He frothed. Daphne rolled her eyes as she kept on dodging around, with the occasional deflection spell, using Malfoy's own spell chains to create a collision and get some more smoke.

"Attack!" Malfoy hissed in anger, as he whipped his wand, hurling two questionable rupturing curses towards her. Daphne knew that her shield would not be able to hold them off and hence firing two wide-area blasting spells on the ground- smashing the rocks into multiple pebbles, which rose above on the ground. A quick 'impedimenta' and the floating rocks were a sound barrier against the incoming attack.

"What an amazing counter by Daphne Greengrass!" Lee chanted. "Using the stadium as a defense was inspiring."

Daphne smirked, looking at Malfoy's sour look. The teaching of her tutor came to mind.

Keep dead silent during the duel. Do not give away anything. It makes your opponent feel frustrated because of his inability to bring out any reaction from you. That frustration causes them to make mistakes.

She whipped her wand in circular loops, releasing an exorbitant amount of energy outward. "Reducto!" she whispered, as a wide-area reductor curse hit the ground, raising innumerable number of pebbles and broken rock fragments into the air above them. She supplied her entire power as she thrust her wand forth.

"Oppugno! Ventus maximus!"

It was an interesting trick—one of her own inspiration. Usually, the spell would be used with the 'Avis' spell—a neat transfiguration spell that created a flock of tiny birds out of air. The 'Oppugno' spell acted as a propellant for the birds towards the opponent—not a powerful attack, but more like a distraction. The ventus spell was one, which created a single gust of wild wind. Daphne had combined the two spells to create a powerful wind that could hurl out larger and heavier things towards the opponent. It was a reasonably good technique, considering how Draco found himself at sea on facing the innumerable number of rock particles shooting towards him.

"Protego maximus!" he roared, hoping that his shield would be enough to hold them back. Daphne took advantage of the opportunity and fired a couple of rupturing curses back towards Draco. The curses tore through his shield, leaving him completely vulnerable to the incoming horde. Caught by surprise, Draco hung on to his shield but as expected, it gave out before the attack was over, leaving him vulnerable to the barging rocks. A score of the pebbles hit him in the abdomen, making him cry in pain as he fell on the floor. A quick disarming charm followed by an Incarcerous, and Draco was outwitted completely.

"And Daphne Greengrass wins! Ladies and gentle-wizards, our first semifinalist. A huge round of applause."

Daphne bowed humbly as she walked down the main battleground.


"That was one awesome duel, Daph!" Tracy congratulated. Daphne just nodded and smiled in appreciation. She looked up to find the dueling ground being attended to by the organizers, who were busy casting spells—rendering the terrain back to its original form.

"Our next duel is between Fleur Delacour of Beauxbatons and Alexander Rostov of Durmstrang." Lee exclaimed. Rostov was famed to be an outstanding dueler and his performance so far had attested to his skill. On the other hand, Fleur was no slouch either. No matter who won it, this match promised entertainment.

The two duelists took their spots as Flitwick repeated the rules to them.

"Three, two, one...DUEL!"

"Bombarda!"

"Concido!"

The spells began splashing against each other as the two opponents circled each other like two predators, each sending a spell that collided with the other creating multi-colored spectra in the center of the terrain. Fleur fired off fireballs while Rostov whipped his wand and hurled out enormous showers of water using the aguamenti charm. One thing was clear—the duo were evenly matched.

Fleur dodged and weaved effortlessly through the incoming barge, using her Veela skills and her flexible lithe body to greater advantages. Rostov however, seemed to be a believer in static dueling techniques. He stood his ground, preferring to use combat spells and shields instead of dodging. It was a good technique if one knew what he was doing.

Fleur slowly moved towards him—her random weavings making her approach less distinct and giving her more time—she kept on firing exploding hexes and wide-area banishers, the main idea being to keep her opponent focused on the incoming offensives. For an inexperienced person, it might seem that she was getting predictable, but for the experienced eye, it was vividly clear what she was doing. A powerful banisher, followed by severing hexes and then bludgeoners and then surprisingly a disarming move. The spell combination was not powerful, but what was the real problem was the counter. The different spells were wisely chosen—considering how their counters required completely opposite wand movements. It was not difficult, just time and attention consuming. Therefore, while it might seem that she was getting predictable and limited in her casting, the judges could see what she was doing very clearly—she was laying a trap.

"That conniving magnificent bitch," murmured Daphne, as she realized what Delacour was trying to do. Tracy rounded at her for her sudden use of profanity, but Daphne's eyes remained glued to the match.

Rostov realized that his opponent had been successful in approaching excessively close towards him. Being a static dueler, allowing the opponent to draw closer was a Big NO-NO! He immediately resorted to a more powerful offensive chain and tried to push the girl backwards. Unfortunately, fleur already had him where she wanted. She whipped her wand downwards and using a complicated transfiguration spell, she transfigured the rocks into two raging bulls, which bellowed and drove towards Rostov, catching him by surprise.

Taking advantage of the opportunity, she raised her left hand and hurled out two large fireballs. Rostov banished the two fireballs using a lot of raw power in his propulsion spell, but unfortunately, that left him vulnerable to the raging bulls. Caught completely off-guard, he did not think and raised his wand towards the oncoming bulls.

"Caro comedenti." He yelled. The flesh eater curse was a powerful severing curse, used originally by butchers to kill animals effectively without making them suffer a lot of pain. However, in 1975, a group of terrorists used the same spell to murder people, resulting in the conscription of the spell as a dark arts spell. Just as the spell struck the incoming bulls, it sliced them off neatly into two halves each, killing them instantly.

"DISQUALIFIED!" rang the loud voice of Madam Maxime, while Dumbledore shook his head in acceptance. Flitwick walked up to the stage, disbanding the duel instantly. "You used a conscripted dark arts curse in the duel, knowing very well that it was against the rules. You are henceforth disqualified, making Miss Delacour the winner.

Daphne watched with widened eyes as Rostov shook his head and walked down the stage. The conniving bitch! She thought. Delacour had set the trap in such a way that Rostov would not be able to focus and make such a mistake. The distraction, the sudden fireballs and then the two bulls—it was all a bait and Rostov had made a fine catch.

"FLEUR DELACOUR MOVES INTO THE SEMIFINALS!"

"Very Slytherin of you, Delacour." Daphne could not help but mutter.


Harry apparated back onto the grounds of Potter manor, and then popped into the study. The tome in his hands- it was 'the single most priceless' thing he had in his hand- the answer to his lifelong question. How did Voldemort summon demons, and how exactly could the process be undone?

The book would stay safe in Potter Manor, at least for now. He would have to study it in depth, and figure out the answer to his quest. Once he was done- there was another barter, he intended to perform-one, which he had no wish to do.

The entire idea had begun with one single story. A story that related he had read from the journals of Salazar Slytherin.

The story of the Veil of Death.

Apparently, there had been one unnamed necromancer who was so very twisted in his mentality and powers, that he had even forced Death himself (or the then Master of Death, Harry mused) into handing him the secrets of Death-the passages through which powerful creatures like demons could be summoned from other dimensions to do one's bidding. How the necromancer had managed to do so- it was still a mystery.

However, the necromancer managed to achieve the required information and created a book with it-the same book that Harry now held in his hand. It was believed that the necromancer used the information to procure a ritual that would enable him to summon demons at will, but for some strange reason, the ritual had failed before it could complete.

He had designed a huge archway through which, the demons were supposed to appear into the mortal realms and do his bidding. For unknown reasons, the ritual failed and the aftermath of the ritual blasted the necromancer into shreds, obliterating him on spot. The archway however-the entrance to the hallowed realms of Death, remained intact-something that later came to be known as the Veil of Death-an ancient artifact hidden away in a top-secret chamber inside the department of Mysteries.

Whoever was flung through the veil never returned, and the answer was clear-a person falling into the veil would simply leave the mortal realms forever. As for where the poor soul would reach, there was simply no answer.

Harry held the tome in his hand tightly.

"This time I will destroy Voldemort before he has the chance to summon demons. This time I have the information I did not have the previous time. This time, things will be different."


Ron Weasley stood opposite to Roger Davies, his wand held tightly in one hand. Roger Davies stood on the other side, smirking at having to fight a fourth-year. This was going to be too easy, Roger thought.

"A piece of advice Weasley, bugger off already. You are here to lose."

Ron did not reply.

"Three, two, one...DUEL!"

"Bombarda!"

"Reducto!"

"Expelliarmus!"

"Confringo!"

The two duelists kept firing spells and hexes towards each other, dodging and running to avoid each other's attacks. Neither of them were great duelists and it was quite understood from the way their duel lacked grace. Roger simply batted away spells using his shields and parrying while Ron shot combat spells in return. The Weasley boy was indeed shocking everyone with his knowledge of spells, considering how everyone thought him to be a slacker and a dumb idiot in class.

Ten minutes of constant barraging and spell collisions later, Ron Weasley fired a powerful blasting curse that took Roger by surprise. He never saw the stunner that followed.

"Ron Weasley wins! Moves to the semi-finals!"

After another round, Victor Krum stood while Caroline Beaufort lay unconscious on the rocky terrain. His Neanderthal way of reacting to crowds showed itself as he just nodded bluntly while holding Caroline's wand in his hand.

"Victor Krum wins the final quarterfinal match, moves to the semi-finals!"


The champions were chosen-Daphne Greengrass, Fleur Delacour, Victor Krum and surprisingly, Ron Weasley—the four contestants for the semi-finals as they stood on the stage. Daphne kept her normal, aloof self while Victor and Fleur—being the celebrities that they were- smiled and nodded their heads, while Ron Weasley simply grinned, not contrary to his usual casual self.

Ludo bagman walked up on the stage, towards the contestants, holding a small red bad in his hands. "This bad contains four numbered balls. Two of them are numbered 'one' and the other two are numbered 'two'. Every contestant will pick up one ball; the two duelists having the same number shall duel. Is that clear?"

Everyone nodded.

Daphne went ahead and picked her ball. She was at number '1'. Fleur got '2'. Both turned towards each other shortly, almost amused that they would not be facing each other even in this round. Victor got a number '2' while Ron picked up the remaining '1' ball.

Looks I get to face Weasley this time. Daphne thought.

"I am finally in the semifinals." She muttered to herself, looking at the crowds all around her.

Where are you, Harry?


### and now, just one more chapter awaits for the completion of the tournament. I decided to keep the semifinals and the finals for one single chapter. Please follow, favorite and review.