A/N: A long awaited reunion. . .

Chapter 74: Master and Apprentice

-Rowena-

I felt cold.

Which shouldn't be possible, since I was nothing, I had no body, no brain which to process pain, or cold. And yet, there I was, feeling beyond cold, like I was caught in the middle of a snowstorm, naked.

It felt like I had last gone to 'sleep' again an eternity ago. All that time, I'd been dreading waking up to find out someone was about to destroy me, but it never came; it seemed as if Riddle was satisfied with the deal.

I wondered what date it was, it felt like a hundred years had gone since the last time, but it could have been three months, or five hundred years.

All of a sudden, the familiar bubbling emerged in the corner of my mind, and elation ran through my mind like a bird soaring through the sky. I had to listen while the bubbling slowly grew stronger, until I popped into existence, lying on my bed.

I was back, I breathed in and out, savouring existence again, yet it was short lived, for I knew I could be walking into a world in ruin. What were the consequences of my deal?

The knowledge I'd traded could have ruined the world; the horcrux was beyond powerful.

I glanced in the mirror, observed that I looked the same as ever, blonde hair cascading down my shoulders, and black robes, adorned with purple.

I swallowed and turned around, looking at the calendar.

21:48 4/11 1994

It had been roughly fifty years, and who had the castle sent this time?

A thousand years had gone, with thousands of students walking the halls. It dawned on me that no one was worthy of tutelage, the person would never come, because I sought someone who didn't exist, and would never exist.

The door to the main room opened, and I stepped inside to find it empty. I raised my eyebrows and looked around, casting spells to see if the person was invisible.

But no, there wasn't anyone inside the room itself, they must be waiting in the corridor.

I rolled my eyes at the paranoia of this particular student, but then realised that I may be the one responsible for the necessity of paranoia. I felt colder than ever.

Either way, I sat down in my armchair, fidgeting with the hem of my robe, and waited. I heard a groan coming from the corridor, and I felt like I was falling.

A boy appeared in the corridor, by the floor, dragging himself along with a trail of blood behind him.

I stood up, staring in horror at the small boy. "What happened to you?" I said. I felt cold as ice, like there was no warmth in the world anymore.

The boy's eyes settled on me, and widened. A gurgle came out of his throat, but he couldn't muster any words. Was this the product of my actions?

Well, at least it was obvious what this one needed help with.

"Stupefy," I said, and watched as he slumped. My hands shook as I levitated the unconscious boy up and led him into one of the rooms.

Once on the bed, I got to work, my mind settling into something familiar, something I knew. I could push out everything else; the things which threatened to break me.

There was a wide cut on his thigh, where blood was pouring out, soaking his robe, it appeared to be the product of a cutting curse. It was easily fixed, so were most of his other minor injuries: a broken rib, a twisted ankle and a burnt finger.

What could possibly have happened to him?

The boy's arms looked like twigs, about to snap; his ribcage stuck out, like he hadn't eaten in months.

Then I found it, a scar in the shape of a lighting bolt, hidden beyond his hair, which was bathed in sweat.

I leaned in closer and inspected the flaming red scar. A few muttered spells, and my breath caught in my throat.

My eyes widened in horror, I felt my blood run cold, my heart beating.

The boy was a horcrux.

No one but Riddle could have done it, which meant–

I swallowed. How could he have accomplished it?

It didn't change the fact that this boy's life was ruined, because of me. I gave Riddle the knowledge to doom this boy. . .

I owed it to this boy to help him.

Think rationally.

I couldn't select this boy as an apprentice solely due to sentimentality.

I left the room the boy was lying in, and started to pace. My wind was running wildly; one side fighting the other as to what I was going to do.

My mind couldn't grasp what I'd learned. The boy was a horcrux. The boy was a horcrux.

It was like the castle had sent him here to show me what a horrible mistake I'd made.

The alarm went off, and I rushed back to the room. The boy was awake, rubbing his eyes on the bed. He was pale as a ghost, and his eyes bloodshot.

Then he stopped, and lay completely still. "Am I dead?" he whispered.

He sounded so happy.

"Not yet," I said, pushing all the guilt out of my voice. "Although, if you keep doing what you did last night, it should not be too difficult to accomplish."

The boy's eyes found me and he looked at me as if I was a ghost. I could see his chest heaving up and down faster and faster.

"You stunned me," he said. The boy still sounded as if he thought he was dreaming.

"It was objectively the best option," I said. "Not that you were much different stunned than before."

The boy pressed his lips into a thin line, and watched me up and down, like I was an object. I cleared my throat, giving him a pointed look.

The boy blushed. "So. . . who are you exactly, and what is this place?"

The words I'd uttered so many times died on my tongue. I'd said it more times than I could count, and it never worked. They were a symbol of my failures; a symbol for what had ruined this boy's life.

"I am someone who will help you," I promised. "And this place, it's where I live."

The boy nodded, and pushed himself to a sitting position in the bed. "Right," he said, disbelieving. "So what exactly will you help me with? I mean, you've already healed all my injuries." The boy smiled shyly. "Thanks, by the way."

"No problem," I said. He shouldn't thank me, he should hate me and curse me with his entire being. "And to answer your question, I will try to help you with whatever you need help with." I paused, trying to think.

Think rationally!

"And then, we won't see each other again," I said, my voice cold as ice. "So what is your problem? I assume those injuries weren't caused intentionally."

The boy scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Unless you know a way to fight off ten people at the same time, you can't really help me here."

With time, that shouldn't be too hard, but it would take more time than one meeting. Much more time. I owed it to the boy, but perhaps it was a one time occurrence.

I cleared my throat. "Is this the only time you've been left in a similar situation?" I said. "Is this a problem which you think will continue or develop?"

I, understandably, was met with a glare. "Yes," he spat. "As long as I'm a champion, they'll go after me."

"What do you mean by champion?" I wondered.

"For the tournament, obviously," the boy said.

He was rather rude, I realised.

"Which tournament are we talking about here? Quidditch?" I said.

The boy's eyes were sharp as knives. He pushed the blankets off himself like they stank of death, and dragged the shirt over his head. Without another word, he made for the door. "Please open the door," he said as he realised the door wouldn't open for him.

"I could do that, of course, but just so we're clear here, my offer of help will only stand for as long as you remain in this room," I said, now hoping he would stay, despite how utterly immature he was.

"Right," he said, smiling at me coldly. "Because someone with their head so deep down the sand that they don't know about the triwizard tournament will be much help."

Scratch that, very immature. But still, the boy had just been beaten bloody, and god knows how his life was with a horcrux inside him.

"Perhaps I should explain myself," I said, letting the door open. "I want to help you, but I need to understand your situation to do so."

"Sure, but I have classes starting soon, I don't have all day."

I wanted to chuckle, but refrained. "I would just like to point out that you would never have been able to attend a class today if I hadn't decided to help you."

The boy sat down in the armchair, and explained his situation. It was a rather dire one, I realised. An orphaned boy –who appeared to be domestically abused– was being forced into a tournament meant for people much older than him.

I owed it to this boy to help him out of the mess, but on the other hand, I couldn't make him an apprentice purely because of guilt, that wasn't rational; yet, there was never going to be a perfect apprentice, not like I hoped. The boy was less talented than others who'd walked inside the room, he wasn't terribly bright either, but he had this feeling around him I couldn't help but admire. Despite everything which happened to him, he didn't sound as if everything happening to him was close to breaking him.

He had been beaten bloody and broken, but he didn't give up and waited for someone to find him, no. Instead, he crawled along the floor of the castle for god knows how long.

That was something, at least.

"I have an offer for you," I told him, and explained myself.

I would teach him, for about a month, until the first task he had to do. And the first task would be where he proved himself, if he succeeded, I'd help him win that fucking tournament, repay my debt. If that was possible.

And if he lost, or died, I would make the rational decision: wait for someone better than him.

As the boy was about to leave, I couldn't help it, it was like an itch.

"Just one piece of advice, Potter," I said, smiling at him. "The best way to win a fight is to never start it."

-()-

-Harry-

I trembled in the cold, shivering. The walls around the Hogwarts grounds towered before me, hostile and uninviting. Home.

"Master," I said, knowing the castle would listen. "Let me in."

I could feel the shift in the air, and without hesitation, I walked straight into the wall, emerging on the other side without a scratch. I could see dark silhouettes on the battlements, looking out on the landscape below.

I threw my invisibility cloak on and walked slowly across the grounds. It felt like walking in a huge city I visited for the first time.

The grass was brown with patches of ash and decay. There were countless tents raised by the dark lake, with an infinite amount of torches burning with dark hope. Kingsley and Podmore stood by the doors to the castle, guarding the entrance.

When the door opened next, I snuck inside. The entrance was like walking through a battlefield, without fighters. Covers had been put up, in case attackers broke through the doors.

As I walked up the staircases, towards the fourth floor, I saw the second floor was filled with people of all ages, infants, old men and women. The fourth floor was uncharacteristically filled with people, the classroom's adjacent to the corridor I found my master in were filled with people clad in yellow and black, chattering amongst themselves with their heads hung low.

The silver door appeared, despite me being beneath the cloak. I slipped inside and took the cloak off as the door closed. I looked at the purple torch in the entrance, it was like looking my master in the eyes.

I took a deep breath, wiped the sweat off my palms on my jeans, and put on foot in front of the other, like a robot.

Rowena was standing by her armchair as I entered the room, her face torn in anxiety. The two of us watched one another for what felt like years. "Harry," she said.

"Master."

Another silence.

"You're back," she said, her voice thick with emotion.

"I am," I said.

My master walked up to me, until we were only a metre apart. She wiped a tear from her eye, and hugged me. I stood frozen, my hands hanging by my sides.

She only stood and held me, not saying anything. Slowly, I raised my arms, and hugged her back.

"I'm sorry, Harry," Rowena said. "I'm so sorry."

"Why didn't you tell me?" I asked as we broke apart. "Why did you lie?"

Rowena sat down in her armchair, putting her face in her hands. "I thought it would be easier, if you didn't know who the one-armed man was, then you couldn't slip up to Dumbledore."

"I kept everything secret," I said. I sat down in front of her looking her straight in the eye, green on purple. "Do– Don't you trust me?"

"I–" My master's voice broke. She looked at her feet. I– I can't talk about this," she whispered. "I can't."

"So you don't trust me," I said. "After all this time, you still don't trust me."

I stood up, and sighed. "Master," I said. "You were like a mother to me, I cared for you and thought– I thought you cared for me too."

A single tear ran down her cheek. "I do care for you Harry," Rowena said. "I– I love you, Harry." She swallowed. "You were my second chance at being a parent and. . . I'm so proud of you."

"But you don't trust me?" I said. It felt like I was being stabbed by a cold knife, again.

"I do now," she said. "I've– I've never trusted anyone in my life, Harry, not Eric, not Helena, not Salazar, not Helga. . . I've never known anyone who hasn't wanted me for my body, my brains or my abilities. . ." She shook her head. "And I can't change, Harry. I'm still the same person I was when I was sixteen, I can't change."

"You have changed," I said. "You've changed a lot."

Rowena shook her head. "No," she said. "I haven't learnt a thing, I'm still a socially stunted, cold bitch who won't do anything for anyone other than herself."

"You're wrong," I said. "I met the other you, and she is exactly what you said. . . but you are not, master."

"Don't call me that," she whispered. "I don't want you to call me that anymore."

"Master, I don't know what else to call you, Rowena just sounds strange."

"I'm serious, Harry," Rowena said. "I'm sorry, you deserve a real mother, not me, who has you calling me 'master'."

"I don't deserve anything," I said. "I've killed, I've tortured and I've done a hundred more horrible, unforgivable things. I don't deserve you, I don't deserve anyone."

Rowen wiped the tears from her eyes again.

"But," I said. "There is no such thing as what one 'deserves', right? It doesn't matter how much I deserve to win, I could still lose."

"I lied to you," Rowena said. "Your entire life is a ruin because of me."

"You gave Riddle the horcrux," I said. "You lied to me." I swallowed. "I– I don't know if I can forgive you, master, but I would like to try."

Rowena looked up at me. "What?"

"Is there anything else?" I wondered. "Anything else at all you're keeping from me?"

"Helena's father," Rowena said. "You've always wondered who he was, and I haven't told you."

"Who is it?" I said.

"It's no one," Rowena said. "She doesn't have a father, Harry. Helena is a horcrux. She is a horcrux I resurrected, wiped the mind off and gave a body, she is a half of my soul."

"That's why you're identical," I said.

"Except our eyes," my master said. "I changed the pigment in her eyes so people would be able to tell us apart."

"Why blue?" I wondered.

Rowena swallowed. "It's similar to purple, but not as pretty." My master looked inside the flames. "I told you I always wanted an equal Harry, but I lied, I have always wanted to be the best. That is why I lost Helena, I treated her like she was inferior. I treated her as if she wasn't human." She let out a long sigh. "I think I'm better than everyone else, Harry, and that has made me a bitter, unpleasant person. But I've learned over the years that I'm not better, I'm not even good. You are a good person, Harry, the only reason you do bad things is because I have taught you to be so."

"No," I said. "What I do is my responsibility, not yours, and perhaps you treated Helena wrong, harshly, and yes, you did so with me too. But now? Isn't this, our conversation here proof that you've changed, master?"

"Do you know why I chose you as my apprentice, Harry?" Rowena said. "I didn't do it because I thought you would be a success, but because I felt guilt." She smiled at me. "I was wrong about that. But do you know what it proves? It proves that I don't change. I– I can only love you, Harry, because you can't challenge me. I can't accept myself as second best. Helena was challenging me, so I hated her. Despite everything you've learned, you won't defeat me in a fight, or in anything, so I like you as an apprentice."

"Perhaps that is true," I said. "But you're wrong, master, you have changed. You telling me all this is proof enough as it is. You're not the devil you're making yourself out to be."

"I burned a house full of children alive," she said. "I'm evil, Harry."

"That wasn't you," I said. "You and the horcrux have been apart for a thousand years, you're not the same, not anymore, because you do change."

Rowena chuckled. "I am an evil person, Harry," she said. "I killed my daughter when her lover distracted her, and do you know what I did then? I placed her corpse in the Ravenclaw common room, to make sure that she would always see it. I wanted to taunt her for all of eternity."

"I know," I said. "I know about the letter you wrote to her too, but you're the only one I've got left. . ."

Rowena sat with her shoulder slumped, looking at me hopelessly.

"Do you want to know the absolute proof you've changed?" I said. "You feel guilt," I said. "You feel guilty about murdering your daughter, about lying to me and about burning those kids, even if it wasn't you who did it." I smiled at her sadly. "The other you, she didn't hesitate for a moment with killing those kids, she is what you once were, master, but just because you once were evil doesn't mean you're still evil, do you know why?"

"Because I change," Rowena whispered.

I smiled at her. "Yes, master," I said. "You change."

Rowena wiped a tear from her eye and smiled at me.

"You've grown, Harry," she said. "You're a wise person now, wiser than you should be."

"I've had a good teacher," I said. "If I survive all of this, it's not the thousands of spells or the complex fighting stances I'll take with me, I'll remember what you told me about the importance of being happy, about being with people."

Rowena inclined her head. "Good," she said. "It feels like I don't have much more to tell you."

"I'll always be your apprentice, master," I said.

"I know," Rowena said. "But you're ready to feel the joy of having your own apprentice."

I smiled weakly. "We'll see," I said. "First, we have to get through Voldemort." I looked inside the flames, seeing the Great Hall, where a couple of Slytherins were eating in silence. "The school is nothing alike," I said. "It feels wrong."

"It's protecting those in need," Rowena said. "It's doing exactly what it was built to do, only, it's not protecting all those in need."

"The Camp," I said. "How many are down there?"

"Thousands," Rowena said. "And they're losing hope, Voldemort will attack any day."

"An attack we can't withstand," I said. "Voldemort's got thousands, he has his Death Eaters and countless more vampires, werewolves and creatures."

"He does," Rowena said. "But he doesn't have the castle, and the castle is the most powerful tool in the world. It has protections in place which have been dormant for a thousand years. If we awaken them, we may stand a chance."

I sat up straighter. "What kind of defences? How do I activate them?"

"You can't activate them," she said. "Only the family of the founders can do that." She smiled at me. "Although, you were able to activate one of them, remember?"

"The Chamber of Secrets," I said. "The basilisk was one of the protections?"

"Indeed," Rowena said. "And there is one such chamber for each founder."

"So we can't open them?" I said. "All that help is lost?"

Rowena smiled. "Not quite. Before I died, I enlisted the help of Godric, and Helga's daughter, Alexandra, to help me find the other three. We put them under the school, close to where our graves are."

"So we can get them!" I said, standing up. "With them, do we stand a chance?"

Rowena grimaced. "They'll make it more even, but no, you need more help."

"Can the other part of you help us?" I said. "She will make a huge difference."

"She's going to kill Nagini," Rowena said. "And as you know, that is quite a necessity."

I sighed, "You're right. So what do we do? I can't just attack Vokdemort and hope to beat him."

"If you don't protect your friends, they'll have to face Voldemort's entire army by themselves."

"They'll be slaughtered," I said. "We need more firepower."

Rowena looked inside the flames, her eyes distant and bleak purple. "This war exists because of me," she said.

I looked at her for a long time as she stared inside the flames. "What are you thinking about?" I said.

"It's a stupid decision," she said. "But it is the right one."

"What are you thinking?" I repeated.

My master smiled at me. "I'll do the same thing with myself I did with Helena: I'll create a body for a horcrux."

"That. . . That is possible." I watched my master, who was sitting, fidgeting with her fingers in her lap. "But that'll ruin your connection to the other body," I said. "You'll be mortal, both of you."

"We will," Rowena said. "Hence why it is a stupid plan. . . but it is the right plan."

"Master," I said. "Think rationally, you've been doing this for a thousand years, are you really going to give it up now?"

My master smiled. "Giving up? No. My goal was never to live forever, it was to live until I found an apprentice who could continue my legacy, have all my knowledge."

"You'll die," I said. "You'll die, master."

"Yes," she said. "And though it will be quite some time until that happens, I don't think I'll be terribly upset about it, Harry."

I had to tell her.

"Master," I said, looking at my feet. "I found out what the convadcryst colour means." The piece of knowledge I'd been holding for months, but not wanted to think about, floated to the surface. "The first person you killed with the spell was Helena, with blue eyes, and she became blue. The first person Daphne killed was Dumbledore, with blue eyes, and his statue became blue," I said. "Did Helena or Salazar ever use the spell?"

I could see the realisation settle in her purple eyes. "I don't know," she said. "Not that I know of."

I nodded. "Exactly. So the colour of the crystal is the eye colour of the first person you killwith the spell."

"It seems you're right," Rowena said "But–"

"Mine is purple," I said. "Mine is purple."

We looked at each other for a long time. "It doesn't matter," Rowena said. "I trust you that you will kill me for a good reason, Harry."

I chuckled weakly. "I can't kill you, master."

"But it seems you will," she said. "It'll be alright."

"No," I said. "It won't be. . . and why would I kill you? Is there anything else you're hiding from me?"

Rowena sighed. "I don't know," she said. "But. . . but I could tell you about my life, all of it."

My master had been alive over a thousand years ago. I couldn't even imagine what her life had been like.

My master began her story, and I listened aptly.

About how she grew up learning magic in the shed, about how she met Eric, about her first meeting with Helga Hufflepuff. . . and also how she and Salazar came up with the idea for creating the school, and how Helena stunned her, and took my master's place.

My master told me how she banished her creation, and how she looked for the protections when Helga fell ill.

My master sighed. "I was angry," she said. "I'd just visited Helga, who I knew would die any day. . . I was angry at the world, I was angry at myself, because I could do nothing to stop her from dying."

I –like I had done for the past hours– remained silent.

"I wanted to lock myself in my tower and work," Rowena continued. "But I met Godric in the entrance hall. . . and he told me he'd seen Helena, at the castle no less. I had half a mind to strike him down then and there, be done with him, but I didn't, because I knew it would break Helga's heart to see us founders fighting more." Rowena shook her head. "I stormed away to my tower, and wanted to destroy the whole world. . . but that was when it came to me, the idea. The horcrux. Once I realised what I wanted to do, it was almost easy to figure everything out. I prepared everything, the book you brought with you to Nanshu, and the rituals. The only thing left to do was kill someone." Rowena looked inside the flames. "My plan was to do the same thing I did when creating Helena, go down to the nearest town and capture a rapist or a murderer. . . but then, Helena arrived."

-()-

-Rowena-

"Hello mother," Helena said.

I took the wand out of my pocket.

"Helena," I spat. "You made a mistake coming here."

"No," she said. "I've become more powerful than you mother. . . I've learnt things you can only dream of."

I smiled at my daughter, my lips curling into cruelty. "You're nothing but a worse version of me, Helena, you can't surpass me, no matter how hard you try. I will always be better than you."

Helena clutched her wand harder, her hands were white as bone. "You stole this castle from me," she said. "My soul created this castle, not yours!"

"Something no one will ever know," I said. "You lost Helena, that's why I get to decide what the truth is. You won't be remembered for anything. . . you will simply be a footnote in the chapter about me."

"No," Helena said. "Because you will die today, and the truth shall be known."

"The truth," I repeated. "The truth is that you are nothing, Helena. You would be nothing, if not for me. Everything you have ever done, you have done because I taught you how to do it."

"Fine," Helena said. "Let's see if you're right."

My daughter sent a wave of flames towards me, that I quenched like they were nothing.

"I taught you those flames, daughter. You'll have to do better than that."

The Ravenclaw tower shook during our battle. I felt the taste of blood in my mouth, and Helena looked like she'd walked through hell, but neither of us was giving an inch.

I hurled deadly sharp spears for her head. Helena did a pirouette and steered the spears around, sending them back towards me.

I bent backwards and let the spears fly over me, striking the wall so hard the walls shook. I glared at my daughter. "Crucio!" I shouted, but Helena conjured a shield which made the spells bounce into the ceiling, breaking a huge chandelier.

It crashed down on the floor, exploding in light and shards of glass. I shielded my eyes, and conjured a shield, but a second too late. A black dagger slipped through my defence and struck me in the abdomen.

I fell to my knees, and tried to remove it, but it was as if it was glued inside my body. I could feel the cold seeping into my body with every passing second.

"A worse version of you, was it?" Helena said, standing above me. Her shadow cast me in darkness. "Do it, then," I said. "Kill me and destroy all my knowledge in one spell. This is your chance to stop me from fulfilling my dreams." I coughed, and spat blood. "But know this, Helena, no matter how many years you spend trying to figure out how I created you, you won't find out, because you're worse than me, Helena, simply worse."

"That's ironic," Helena said. "Considering you are the one at my mercy."

Helena grasped her wand harder and pointed it at me. "Goodbye mother," she said. "Avada Keda–"

"Helena! What is the meaning of this!"

Helena cut off.

Godric had appeared in the doorframe, and was looking between the two of us with wild eyes. "You can't kill her," he said.

"I can and I will," Helena said.

"Helena!" Godric exclaimed. "You're not evil–"

Helena turned around and looked him in the eye. "I– I love you Godric," she said. "Please, let me do this, for all the nights we spent together."

Godric looked between us hopelessly. "Helena, I–"

"Convadcryst!"

The spell struck Helena in the back, and she turned into blue crystal.

Godric's eyes were wide with horror. "You– You killed her," he said.

"I did," I said coldly. I removed the dagger from my body and healed the wound slowly. "Now get lost," I snapped. "Or the same thing will happen to you."

"You're a monster," Godric said. "You've always been, haven't you?"

I glared at him, and he disappeared out of the room.

In the next few moments, I used the death of my daughter to split myself again, and life was breathed into the book.

-()-

-Harry-

"One of the students found Godric the next day," Rowena said, staring bitterly into the fire. "He hung himself in one of the classrooms. . ."

My master fell silent, and didn't start speaking again. She was finished.

"I don't know what to say," I said. "It's just. . . You have changed master, could you honestly say that you would do the same thing again, now?"

"Yes," Rowena said. "But. . . if you have shown me anything Harry, then it is that doing the right thing is just as important as doing the rational thing."

"But one can't do both," I said. "At least not this time."

"Not this time," Rowena said. She looked inside the flames. "Let's do it," she said. "I want to get out of here, I want to touch grass and see the sky, go for a swim in water and feel the warmth of the sun."

"Let's start then," I said.

"Just one thing," Rowena said. "I want to give you something."

"Then we'll start the ritual?"

"Yes," Rowena said. "I've made a set of clothing for you," she said. "You're my apprentice, after all, Harry, and if the world ever were to find that out, I want them to see it."

I watched her, frowning. "It's purple, isn't it?"

Rowena smiled. "I'll show you when the time comes for you to wear them, but Voldemort could attack any day, so that day will be here soon."

"Fine. . . What do we need for the ritual?" I said.

"You've witnessed it, Harry."

"The graveyard," I said. "So we need flesh of the servant, bones of the father and blood of the enemy."

Rowena nodded. "Bones of the mother, actually, but yes, you're right. I have the two latter already. . ."

"But you need the flesh of the servant," I said. "I am your servant."

"If it is okay with you–"

"I'll do it," I said. "Is there anything else?" I wondered.

"We need blood, lots of it," Rowena said. "For the potion. . . the people we take blood need to die."

"How many?" I said."

"At least two," Rowena said. "To be safe, three."

I closed my eyes, seeing the countless bodies I'd left in my wake. I'd promised Alice to not kill anyone else, but there I was.

The idea came to me.

"I know who we can kill," I said, staring absently into the flames. "I know three people who deserve it."

Rowena nodded. "I fear very few people deserve what we are about to do to them," she said. "But it is for a greater good, is it not?"

"It's ironic," I said. "We're talking about doing the right thing, but here we are, about to murder three people mercilessly."

"A lesser evil, then," Rowena said. "It's not right, but it is more right."

-()-

Nurmengard was an impressive building. The mountains seemed to stretch out around the prison forever in every direction. The peaks of those mountains were white and sharp against the horizon.

Austria was a beautiful country. In another time, perhaps I would be able to appreciate it more.

Instead, I walked inside the prison with a heavy heart.

I knew the American law enforcement was after me for murder, but after today, the whole world would be after me. The ICW would send someone after me, just like they had sent Dumbledore after the person who killed Grindelwald.

Just like Dumbledore never found the one-armed man –who turned out to be my master– in his search, the agents of the ICW would never find me.

I was more certain than ever about my future as I walked inside the prison.

The guards were stunned, and I blew the doors up to reach the level I wanted.

The three of them were kept in low security cells at ground level. They had cells next to each other, in a row.

I didn't remember their names, and I didn't want to either.

The three men looked up at me as I walked up to stand in front of the bars. "You know who I am," I said.

They didn't answer, but I had a suspicion that their every day had been spent in fear; in fear that I would come and exact my final revenge.

"Once upon a time, not long ago, I would have said that the three of you deserve what you're going to experience, and perhaps you do. . ." I looked at the three men who pressed themselves against the wall, to get as far away from me as possible.

"We didn't mean to!" one of them exclaimed, an older man clad in rags. "We didn't know she was in the tent. We thought it was empty!"

"You did," I said. "So you said in each one of your trials, and yet, every judge saw fit to place you here. . . Unfortunately, in this world, it is the outcome of an action that counts, not the intent. . . though the intent of burning a tent down isn't pure either, is it?"

"We made a mistake," the youngest one said, who looked like he was just out of his teenage years. "We made a mistake. Please don't kill us."

"I wanted to kill you for a long time, I've thought a lot about coming here and torturing you, tearing your limbs off. . . It's ironic, really. I don't want to kill you now, but I have to." I unlocked the door to the cell and stepped inside. "I don't know if it is any solace to you, but if nothing else, you will at least take a step towards redemption through your sacrifice."

-()-

It was warm again, but that time, I arrived in Perth with shorts and a t-shirt.

I felt a pang of regret as I walked past the hotel me and Dumbledore had stayed in during our first visit. I walked around the city like a ghost, pretending to be a tourist who simply wanted to see the grand buildings and enjoy the sun.

The more time went on, the closer I moved towards the spot. I didn't even intend to, but it was as if I was drawn there.

There was only ashes left.

The houses on each side stood tall and with pristine paint, their lawns housing green grass and their flowers blossoming with colour. One couldn't have believed that a class of children had been burned alive mere metres away.

With my head hung low, I turned my back on the pile of ashes, and walked down the street. Jennefer's house was as we left it. There were no lit lamps in the windows, and the garden was overgrown, as if no one had been in the house for years.

I knocked on the door, and took a step back, waiting to hear if any footsteps emerged.

They didn't, the house remained lifeless and dark, dead.

Jennefer might be away on an excavation, I realised, or any kind of exploration. That was her job, after all.

I turned around and walked back to the street. The visit felt useless. I didn't even entirely know why I had wanted to come back there, and talk to her. Perhaps it was because she offered me a future.

A future I knew I wouldn't accept.

It was alluring and it was exciting, it was the natural continuation of everything I had done since I started learning from my master.

That was why I couldn't accept her offer.

In another life, where I and the people around me made different choices, then perhaps I would have explored temples and shrines, uncovering secrets that were hidden for thousands of years; but not in my life.

I just hoped that the other versions of me, who walked down that path, found the same happiness I sought.

-()-

My master was standing with her hands folded neatly behind her back. "You've got everything prepared?" she said.

I nodded and held my hand up. The middle finger on my right hand was gone, with just a red stump remaining. "The potion is prepared, and the ingredients are ready to be added," I said. "Are you ready?"

My master smiled at me. "Thank you for this, Harry, I'll make sure we find a substitute for that finger of yours, but we need to hurry now, Voldemort is on the doorstep."

"He's here?" I said. "He's attacking the castle?"

My master didn't respond. "We'll talk details after I'm resurrected, but we need to hold him off until Nagini is dead."

I swallowed. "Then, I will try to kill him."

"Then, you will kill him, Harry," my master corrected. "Belief," she said. "Just believe."

A/N: And here we are, with only one chapter to go. It's been a long road, with the story landing at over 400k words, but hopefully, you'll feel that it hasn't been a complete waste of time after the next chapter. As always, thank you for reading, and a little extra gratitude is felt towards all those who leave a comment after every chapter, they're a joy to read, and I will miss them when this is all over.

I've seen a couple of questions about what will happen next, and don't worry, there'll be quite a lengthy author's note where I explain everything.

Until next time; the penultimate time, cheers!