AN: Thanks to everyone who reviewed, followed and favorited. I'm still without a beta (anyone wishing to fill that position?), so do forgive me if you find something odd written. I found that when you write in a language that it is not your native one, there are some words and expressions that simply can't be translated the exact way I wish to.

This chapter has already been written for some time. I don't know if it's just me or if it's normal for other writers, but most of the time I have several documents open at the same time for each chapter, and I write what takes my fancy at the moment.

In this chapter, you will see some of Florence's past in her world; I hope you will like it, and if not, feel free to share your opinion and tell me what you would like to see in this story.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter and its fictional characters. If I did, I would make Harry a little smarter and Slytherin and give hell to anyone who wished to use him selfishly to their own benefits.

''The strength of a woman is not measured by the impact that all her hardships in life have had on her; but the strength of a woman is measured by the extent of her refusal to allow those hardships to dictate her and who she becomes.''

– C. JoyBell C.

Previously:

''Hello, Missy,'' she responded in kind, walking leisurely towards the entrance doors of the manor. She took a deep breath and smiled unreservedly again. It's so good being at home again. She thought happily as she watched Missy open the great doors.

CHAPTER 5

Florence remembered the day which she had stepped into that manor for the first time as if it had happened only the day prior. Admittedly, she had been very shocked to find out that there was still a large state to the Peverell family. She had known that she descended distantly from Ignotus Peverell – the first owner of the Invisibility Cloak – as had been every Potter by blood before her, and simply thought that the principal family had died out.

(Flashback)

Usually, Florence preferred to owl-order everything that she needed, as she was someone who valued her privacy, but when it came to potions ingredients and other such delicate items, she liked to see the quality of the products with her own eyes before purchasing any. In that she only trusted herself. Florence was sure that she could receive the best quality merchandises at home without lifting a finger if she merely informed them that she was Florence Potter, the Girl-Who-Lived and the Saviour of the Wizarding World. However, that was a situation that she absolutely did not want. She was tired of being the one everyone gossiped about, with or without true facts in the story. Frankly, she stopped caring or being surprised by the imagination of the press or the people at large – they always came up with the strangest and more farfetched things, but the sad fact was that these speculations were continuously believed by everyone.

Right after the Battle of Hogwarts, Florence couldn't even be seen in public; she was instantly surrounded and assaulted mercilessly by everyone in sight, wanting to grab her hand or whatever body part they could reach. The first time that that happened, her instinct reaction was to flee the scene in panic, though it was impossible. On the other hand, the other two thirds of the famous Golden Trio, Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley, fully basked in the attention without a care; it was like they had born for that life of fame. She recalled idly musing as she had watched her best friends that they wouldn't seem out of place if they had walked the red carpet in Hollywood, side by side with famous actors and the like.

That day, she had spelled a strong glamour over her hair and facial features and decided that was time to visit Gringotts and see to her financial matters. She was aware that Sirius Black, her godfather, had declared her his heir to the Black Family, though she didn't know what it meant exactly. Hell, she didn't even know if her parents had left something else for her that she could claim now that she was already of age.

The goblins were not very happy to see her at Gringotts – they could easily see through her glamour – after the whole debacle with the theft of the Hufflepuff's Cup and the fleeing dragon. They didn't really cared that she had defeated the Dark Lord Voldemort; their only interest was the bank's reputation and earning themselves and their clients more gold. Evidently, Florence offered to pay the damage caused, as the incident was indeed the Golden Trio's fault (though she doubted that either of her friends had the money or the intent to do the same).

''I can always take my gold elsewhere. I'm sure with the contents of the Potter and Black Vaults, I will have no problem in finding another bank happy enough to have me as a client,'' she had finally pointed out, tired of the goblin's attitude, when he still did not seemed very pleased in making business with her. Then, smirking inside, she wondered out loud, tapping her index finger to her lips, the thought just crossing her mind at that moment. ''I wonder how the people will react when they find out that their Saviour is not welcome at Gringotts?''

The goblin's face had suddenly changed colour, somewhat turned lighter – she thought it was their version of pale, but as their skin's colour was different from humans it was hard to be certain – and seemed to freeze for a few seconds. At that moment, she was perfectly aware of his train of thoughts even without Legillimency. Both of them knew very well that if word got out that the precious Saviour had been expelled from Gringotts, the bank would lose many clients trust – and with them the goblins' beloved gold – in the foreseeable future, which would be disastrous to the business.

After that illuminating moment, the goblin was almost too eager to be of service. Mentally, she patted herself on the shoulder for a job well done; she felt positively Slytherin in that instant and, oddly enough, she really liked it.

To Florence's great surprise, she discovered that she was heiress to more than the Potter and Black families and Vaults. It seemed that the ancient and almost forgotten vaults of the Peverell family were hers too. She had simply assumed that the Peverell's main branch had been extinct centuries ago and that their possessions had been claimed by their closest relatives in that time – and thus assembled in the main Potter Vault.

The goblin had changed colours again and his eyes had widened as the enchanted parchment had informed both of them of this shocking news. It seemed almost as if… he was afraid?

What now? Florence almost growled out loud with annoyance.

This goblin (what was its name again?) was the oddest one that she had ever met; she wasn't even aware that these creatures could show fear or some emotion related to that and towards a witch no less! As far as she knew, they only sneered or were indifferent to witches and wizards alike, they were only interested in gold and their own profit and, last but not least, they were bloodthirsty and vengeful creatures as showed by their past and long history of wars.

''It seems, Miss Potter, that you meet all the necessary conditions to inherit the Peverell Vault and Manor,'' he said soberly after he recovered his composure and cleared his throat.

''And these conditions, what are they exactly?'', she asked curious, already somehow expecting what he was going to say.

''To be able to be the heir – or in your case, heiress – of the Peverell Vaults, one needs not only to be of their blood offspring but also have in their possession certain three ancient magical artefacts. I presume that you know of what I am talking about?'' The goblin regarded the human expectantly, his previous faux-pas already forgotten.

Florence simply nodded, speechless. As she had suspected, the Deadly Hallows were involved somehow.

''Evidently, this condition only existed after the last Lord Peverell, Augustus Peverell, died of old age, being childless and his wife had already died long before him. His great-grandfather, Ignotus Peverell, had previously left with us the needed magical documents to activate these clauses as soon as the last of his direct heirs was gone.'' The goblin informed the witch, while several files appeared on the desk between them. He opened one of them and skimmed the sheets of parchment inside quickly. ''There are two Vaults. One with the money, which has an abundant amount of gold after all the interests earned for four hundred years; and the other with magical artefacts such as books, journals, weapons, and other miscellaneous,'' he continued, giving the parchments explaining everything to Florence. ''And there is also Peverell Manor, location unknown. We are not aware of the condition of the propriety, as it was not been inhabited since Lord Augustus died in the late 1680. To get there, you will need to take a portkey – at least the first time – which is a ring guarded inside the second vault; to activate it you will need one drop of blood on its stone and say 'Mortem'. It will take you directly inside the wards.''

After that, Florence passed the next hour signing documents with a Blood Quill – she had to restrain herself to not burn it down as she first touched it – and getting herself acquainted with everything that she owned now. The goblin gave her a folder for each family she had inherited from to read the information more in depth later at home. Never in her wildest dreams, had she imagined that someday would she be so bloody rich; there was literally more gold than she could spend on a lifetime in the Peverell Vault alone. To only think that she had lived for almost seventeen years with Dursley's constantly saying that she was an expensive burden and before Hogwarts never having a single penny to her name, it was simply overwhelming.

After retrieving the portkey ring from the vault, the witch immediately decided to move to Peverell Manor that same day. With magic the process was fairly simple and easy: a few spells and she was ready to leave Grimmauld Place. Truthfully, she was ecstatic to leave that dreadful house behind once and for all. the only reason at all that she had been living in there – despite all the painful memories attached to it – was because she had nowhere else to go. Sure, the Weasley's had invited her to the Burrow, however she wanted to be alone for some time and they were still mourning for Fred and she didn't wish to interfere in their family time.

Ron and Hermione had gone to Australia searching for the Granger couple, even though Hermione wasn't sure if they wanted to come back to Britain with their memories erased and all (for all they knew, the couple was happy there and had intention to change their lives once again). So, Florence didn't need to immediately warn anyone that she was moving out of the past Headquarters of the Order of Phoenix.

When she had first arrived at the Peverell State, she was pleasantly surprised to see a well-cared and not too ostentatious manor, with impeccable trimmed gardens and green-houses in the back, every one of them apparently cared for by the family of house-elves living there for centuries.

As expected, the creatures cried in happiness when they found out that there was finally a new mistress they could serve whole-heartedly. After being showed around the manor and the grounds outside, she was ushered inside a study in the ground floor and simply informed that there was someone who wished finally to meet the new Master of Death.

Florence had frozen a few heartbeats at that title. She had tried not to think too much about that whole Master business, not sure if she wanted to really know if that name was just that, a name; or if what she secretly feared was the possibility, that it meant something beyond that.

''Hello, child!'', someone greeted warmly, rescuing her from her musings.

She looked around startled. Her eyes fell on a whole-body portrait to her left; a wizard with black robes, seated regally in an armchair, stared back at her. His hair was black and long, falling in gentle waves on his shoulders. Coincidentally, his eyes were almost a mirror of her own and they watched the young woman curiously, while a smile played on his lips.

''My name is Ignotus Peverell. I am very happy to finally make your acquaintance. I admit that I have been waiting anxiously for a long time to meet my successor.''

''I am Amelia Potter, pleased to meet you, Lord Peverell,'' she responded in kind, stepping closer. '' Successor, sir?''

''Why, the Master of Death, of course,'' he declared, like he was talking about the weather, his smile never wavering.

''That title, sir, it isn't just a fancy name, right?'' she needed to know. Florence had the feeling that her life had irrevocably changed forever that terrible day at Hogwarts, and she wasn't talking about the whole Voldemort business. She simply didn't know it yet.

Ignotus sighed softly and shifted in his armchair.

''Please, take a seat. I believe that we will be talking for a long time.''

And so, Florence was told about what truly meant being the Master of Death.

The first point that Ignotus made was that Florence could tell no one of her new status. Humans feared what they didn't understand, and if someone ever discovered the truth, she would unquestionably be called the new Dark Lady; or something worse, being caught by the Unspeakables to be experimented on and never see the daylight again. And that was a fate far worse than death, Ignotus assured her grimly, because simply put, the Master of Death could not die.

Florence didn't know how long she sat there frozen in shock. I can't die, I can't die. It was the only thought that occupied her mind. Suddenly, she remarked something.

''But you are dead, Ignotus,'' she pointed out, feeling like she was stating the obvious, which she indeed was. The wizard had demanded to be called by his given name, saying that he was a simple man and didn't like anything too fancy, despite being a Lord in his own right. ''So that's not completely true. It's possible to die,'' she continued, almost pleading. She did not want to live forever; watching everyone she cared for die and knowing that she would never be able to follow someday. It was something that she simply didn't wish to contemplate.

''I apologise, child. There is indeed a way,'' he said calmly, seeing her distress, and Florence released a sigh of relief. She had a suspicion that this man was a hard person to aggravate.

Then, Ignotus proceeded to explain that she would still bleed and hurt the usual way, though she was immune to the average sickness and most poisons. When she wondered out loud if having basilisk venom and phoenix tears in her system changed anything, he beamed at her and stated that it meant that she never needed to worry again about being poisoned; whatever the poison, it simply would not work.

Florence would also never die from blood loss, killing curses, or other curses that usually would lead to death. If necessary, her magic would automatically send her body into a magical coma, start healing whatever was needed: be it replenish her blood, close any wound or attach some severed body part (distance didn't matter) – Florence grimaced at that, Ignotus surely wasn't shy or skirmish of talking about that – and an impenetrable protector barrier would surround her while unconscious and defenceless.

Another fact was that she would never grow old; she would be forever frozen in her almost eighteen years old body – she was sure that there were many women out there who would be ecstatic at this new information, though she wasn't certain what she really thought about it. Florence would just needed to be careful for the next few years, Ignotus suggested applying some make-up and/or minor charms to appear slightly older as the time passed, like he himself had once done (the glamours, not the make-up), but eventually she would have to withdraw completely from everyone she cared about, permanently move away to another country and change my name.

Being perfectly invisible within a second's notice was another perk of her new status. Ignotus told her that the Invisibility Cloak had bonded with her own body and magic, thus she just needed to think of being invisible to activate it. It was the ultimate protection, Ignotus declared rather cheerfully: while under the Cloak's power, no one could sense her at all (no sound, no smell, no magic either), it was like she was actually not there at all.

Eager to confirm this, Florence tried immediately and, sure enough, it worked like a charm. (Pun intended.)

To protect this new-found and dangerous knowledge to fall in foreign hands, she had also been given absolutely impenetrable Occlumency shields, not even Dumbledore and Voldemort put together would be able to succeed in entering her mind without her permission. And with some practice she could also master its counterpart, Legillimency, since after mastering one of them, it was easier to become proficient at the other. Admittedly, Florence was very happy, remembering bitterly the gruesome and painful sessions with Severus Snape, which in the end had not serve to anything at all, besides making her miserable. Being a Master Occlumens, she was completely immune against truth serums of any kind – thus avoiding ever unveil Master of Death's secrets unwillingly – and with some training, she could even see through the average glamour and invisibility spells.

And finally, Ignotus explained how he was able to die. He had been informed by Death itself, when It appeared before him shortly after his brothers' deaths and proclaimed him Its Master – being the sole survivor among the three, Ignotus had become the true owner of the Resurrection Stone and the Elder Wand by default, even though they were never in his possession before; the Hallows would never work perfectly for anyone else, that was the main reason why the Wand was famously so unstable and impossible to stay long in one's possession – that when he wished to meet It again, he simply needed to willingly and whole-heartedly give away the Hallows to different people without the knowledge of what they truly were. He had to be absolutely confident that it was what he truly wanted, without leaving any unresolved matters behind, or it wouldn't work.

And thus, it was at the old age of two-hundred and sixty-five that Ignotus had lastly greeted Death like an old friend, having led a full and happy life accomplishing his every goal – be it family, wealth, business – and realising every dream – travelling around the world, creating new potions and spells – and leaving the land of the living with no regrets behind.