Harry Potter and the Shadowed Light

Chapter 4

Previously

"Vault number one," the teller intoned when Harry stated his destination. A flicker of thought had Harry pausing; the lower the vault numbers usually meant older vaults, but the sudden jerk of the cart sent his apprehension of visiting the oldest vault in Gringotts flying in the wind.

After what seemed like forever, the cart finally came to a stop and Harry slowly exited from it. They were in the deepest part of the bank, far below anywhere Harry had ever been before; above them, Harry could hear other carts moving far in the distance. Shaking himself to try and gather his bearings, Harry approached the doors to the vault. After a moment of consideration, Harry placed his hand on the doors and felt his magic surge before they unlocked with a soft click. Harry had expected an eerie creak, but not a sound came as he pushed open the vault doors.

Entering the nearly empty cavern, Harry noted that the vault was surprisingly clear and well lit. Approaching the table in the middle of the room, Harry's eyes were drawn to the book stand which displayed a very old looking, small book. Next to it, Harry noted something which made his eyes widen in shock: his invisibility cloak was on the table neatly folded, as well as Dumbledore's old wand. Harry had been wondering where the wand had vanished to, but in all the excitement the thought had been easily buried. His cloak too had disappeared, but Harry had assumed it would turn up; apparently, he was right. The next object was another thing that he recognised, having seen it only days before: it was the box for the Slytherin family ring. Opening the box, just to confirm it, Harry noted with little surprise that it was empty, and wondered if, when he died, it would appear here or in the Slytherin vault.

Looking at the three items, Harry realised that, apparently, the story of the three brothers was true. Picking up the wand, Harry felt his magic surge yet again; the feeling was similar to how he had felt when he had first picked up this holly wand at eleven, but it was more natural. Before, if asked, he would have said that his holly wand was the perfect fit for him, but now having felt his magic blend with this wand he realised how untrue that statement would have been. Summoning a spare wand holder, Harry placed the wand in it before turning to his cloak. Shrugging his shoulders, Harry put it on over his robe.

Finally done, Harry turned to the book and picked it up. Opening it, Harry began to read with fascination.

Congratulations, dear reader, on doing the impossible,

If you are reading this, then you have done what thousands before you have tried to do but failed. You have collected and mastered the three Deathly Hallows. Items forged by Death himself.

This, I know, means little to you at present, but once you truly comprehend the notion of how much power you now wield, you will understand what an hour and blessing this is to have befallen on you.

There are however a few limitations.

But, they are best explained by the maker Himself. To summon Him, all you must do is try. You will find He always hears your call, He just doesn't always answer.

Hello, farewell, and good luck.

Closing the book, Harry stood blankly for a moment, confused and thoroughly baffled.

"How the hell do I try to summon Death?" he mumbled, running through countless ideas and dismissing them completely before they fully formed.

"You must merely wish for my presence, Master," spoke a deep voice from in front of Harry.

Looking up sharply, Harry let out a high squeak that he didn't think would be biologically possible under normal circumstances. The being before him, as it was no man or creature, was easily 7ft tall and appeared to be draped in shadows.

"Y-you-you're Death?" Harry stuttered out eventually, once his voice decided to return to him.

"I am known as many things but yes, I answer to Death," said the voice.

"Oh, okay," Harry said lightly, feeling suddenly very light headed.

Standing in silence, which seemed to stretch for hours rather than seconds, Harry tried not to squirm. Although he could make out no eyes under the shadowed cloak, Harry could almost feel the being's gaze raking over him. Eventually, Harry dared to open his mouth again.

"The book said I had mastered you," he said, his words sounding stupid to him now he had been in Death's presence; nobody could master such a being.

"You have collected all three of my hollows, mastered them," Death said.

Harry nodded before speaking, "And what does that mean for me?"

"It means that I will help you, teach you, and aid you in whatever you wish. You are my master, but I am no slave. I will keep you alive until such a time you no longer desire to be; you will be my companion," Death said, His voice giving no indication about what He thought of this.

Harry considered Death's words, and after a few moments he asked the question that had been haunting him. "Could you bring somebody back to life? My soulmate—" he said, breaking off his softly spoken words. He wanted the bond complete as he didn't want to die, but bringing Voldemort back? Harry was torn.

Death was silent for a moment. "Even I have limits," he said, "though it would be possible, bringing somebody back from the dead is never without cost. Once somebody is dead, it is better for them to stay that way. To take them from their peace is not something that should be done."

Harry let out a breath of air that he didn't even realise he had been holding and sagged at His words. "Oh," he said, his disappointment tangible. Even though he was torn to hear it was better left impossible, it still made the ache in his chest grow.

Silence fell then before Death spoke again, "However, I can offer you something else."

Harry perked up at this, wondering what Death would have to say.

"I can feel your broken bond and it sings out in agony. I can send you back to a time it was not broken," Death said.

Harry stilled at his words and thought about the implications. "You can send me back in time?" he asked, just to clarify.

"Yes," Death verified.

Harry thought about the possibilities and asked, "If I was sent back, would I still be me?"

"You would merge with your younger self unless you went back to a time before you existed. Though not impossible, I do not recommend that path. It opens up endless loopholes and paradoxes that give me headaches to fix," Death said.

Harry almost laughed at how put out Death managed to sound, while still being utterly terrifying. "By merge, do you mean that I would take over my younger self? Would I keep my memories?"

"Indeed," Death confirmed.

Harry nodded as he thought, an idea blooming in his mind. "What about my magic? It was bound when I was younger, if I returned would it be bound still?" he asked.

"I would never allow such a thing," Death said scathingly.

"So I would return how I am now basically, but in my younger body?"

"Yes," Death said.

"What about the Hallows? Back then they're still around, but I don't have them, or at least I don't have the wand or the stone. Would I still be your master?" Harry asked.

"You would still be my master unless somebody else gains all three of them. However, you will obviously not have access to the wand or the stone. I am unsure, but I would think the wand would not work against you - it would know you are its true master. I would suggest you work on collecting all three once you have returned," Death said.

Harry thought about this and nodded his head. "I don't have to take you up on this right away, do I? It's not like a onetime deal?" Harry questioned.

"No. You may summon me and ask for this at any point, though I am busy, so I may not always answer you the moment you call," Death said.

Harry nodded. "I think that's all I needed to know. Thank you," he said before awkwardly adding, "Erm, you can go now?"

Death seemed to chuckle slightly, alarming Harry, before He simple vanished back into the shadows.

Harry stood for a moment, standing in shock, before the realisation of how surreal his life was hit him. Laughing manically, Harry barely kept himself from falling to the floor in his state. Finally, after gaining a small semblance of control, Harry stood and straightened himself out. Deciding it was best not to wear his invisibility cloak, Harry focused on banishing it to his room in Grimmauld Place, trusting his magic to send it there. Finally. he returned to the cart outside and asked to be taken back to the surface, ignoring the goblin's curious look.

Instead of going back into the main bank, Harry instead followed the paths towards Ragnok's office. Nodding to the guards, Harry knocked on the door and waited to be called in.

"I see you have returned," Ragnok said once Harry had seated himself.

"Did you know?" Harry questioned.

Ragnok withheld his smirk. "I know many things, but even I cannot take a guess as to what you mean."

Harry narrowed his eyes and clarified, "Did you know what being the Master of Death meant for me?"

Ragnok sighed, "It has never been done before, so I did not know for certain, but I had an idea." Silence fell after he spoke.

"Death said I could go back," Harry said after a few moments.

"Go back?" Ragnok questioned.

"I would be able to relive my life, taking the place of my younger self. I would have my memories and my powers; I would literally have a chance to do it all again, but better," Harry said

"I see," Ragnok said. "I take it you are considering this?"

"I think I want to do it," Harry confided, "the only thing that is currently keeping me going is the thought of revenge, and even that doesn't block out my longing for long. It's always there. If I went back, I could change everything."

"You would side with Voldemort?" Ragnok asked, his voice holding no judgement.

"No - yes - I don't know," Harry admitted. "I would try to fix him. His goals before they became so twisted with insanity were good; I refuse to believe the one person magic fated to be perfect for me was an insane snake-faced megalomaniac."

Ragnok smiled at that. "Good."

Harry was shocked. "You want me to side with Voldemort?" he asked.

"No, I want you to fix Voldemort, to build on what he started when he first began. I want you, Harry Potter, to change the world," Ragnok said.

Harry looked at Ragnok who, in just a few short days, had come to be a true friend. "You know if I go back, you won't remember me," he said.

Ragnok smirked at that. "I wouldn't be so sure, Harry."

"What do you mean?"

"Goblin magic is different from that which wizard's wield," Ragnok said. "When you return, you may find yourself surprised with just how much we remember."

Harry smirked at this, glad he would have a confidant when he went back.

"You have made your decision then," Ragnok said, seeing the look on Harry's face.

"Yes, I think so. There is just one thing I need to do first."

After leaving the bank, Harry made his way to Grimmauld Place. One of the only regrets he had about his decision to go back was Kreacher. He had really bonded to the elf in the weeks he had been at Grimmauld, however he knew that if all went to plan he would be seeing the elf a lot earlier than he had in this life when he returned.

Going up to his room, Harry opened his trunk and summoned the object he had come home for: the Marauder's Map. Opening it up, he placed his wand again it and intoned, "I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good." Watching as the map came to life, Harry looked to the headmaster's office and saw it empty; searching the surrounding areas, Harry saw that, although not completely empty, the school was practically deserted.

Putting on his invisibility cloak and tucking the map into his pocket, Harry returned to the receiving room and apparated to Hogsmeade. The walk to the castle filled Harry with regret; there were vast areas of destruction and Harry could see that it would take time to fix the damage. Hopefully things would be better after he returned; he never wanted to see Hogwarts in such a state ever again. Even if he hated that his memories of the place were tainted by Dumbledore and his manipulations, Harry just couldn't bring himself to hate the castle and all it represented for him.

Once he got close enough to enter the castle's wards, Harry felt a shift in his magic. Breaching them, Harry had a baffling sensation of peace, almost like he was coming home.

Making his way quickly towards the office, Harry withdrew the map. Even under his cloak with scent blocking and silencing charms, Harry didn't want to risk running into anyone. Seeing that the way was clear, Harry kept his pace and finally made it the gargoyle guardian blocking the way to the headmaster's - well, he supposed it would be headmistress' now - office.

Harry considered his next move before a thought came to him. Remembering what he had once read in a book years ago, Harry decided to try something. He said, "I, Harrison James Potter-Black, Lord of Slytherin and Gryffindor, do demand entrance to this room."

At first he thought it had not worked, as nothing seemed to happen, but slowly the gargoyle moved. Quickly casting a secrecy charm on the guardian so it could not be questioned about how he gained entrance should Harry be found, Harry continued his journey and climbed the stairs to the office. Standing, Harry let out a breath. Withdrawing his new wand Harry set about casting warning wards, as well as silencing charms and secrecy charms. Once he felt them settle, Harry removed his cloak, causing the many paintings of previous headmasters and headmistresses to splutter in shock.

"You, boy, how did you get in here?" one male portrait asked. Harry believed him to be Walter Gagsworth, the headmaster from 1640 to 1679.

Harry, however, chose to ignore him as he focused on the portrait of the man he had once worshiped and loved like a father.

"Harry?" the portrait of Albus Dumbledore asked, his voice sounding as mild and grandfatherly as ever.

Unable to control himself at the benign tone, Harry felt the room shake slightly as his magic tried to rip free.

The portrait of Dumbledore seemed shocked for a moment, then those twinkling eyes narrowed.

"I see you have found out about yourself then," he said sagely, as though he had not manipulated Harry's entire life.

Harry gritted his teeth. "Indeed," Harry said in an icy tone that promised pain. At this point the other portraits went silent, fearing the look in the eyes of the dark hair teen before them.

The portrait of Albus sighed, "It really was for the greater good."

Harry, having had enough, barely kept his voice from breaking the sound barrier as he bellowed, "The greater good?! How is stealing from me, drugging me, and manipulating me for the greater good?!"

"It was better this way," Albus said before being cut off. Harry was not done ranting.

"Tell me, how is blocking my soul bond for the greater good? Tell me that,Albus!" Harry demanded.

Hearing Harry's shout, the other portraits seemed to forgot their fear and let out cries of shock and horror.

"You didn't!"

"How could you?!"

"Who do you think you are?!"

And to Harry's great amusement, the portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black began ranting and swearing in such a creative and colourful way that Harry was sure even a seasoned sailor would have blushed.

Eventually Albus was forced to shout, "Enough!"

Once the room had quieted down, although mutinous mutterings could still be heard, Dumbledore continued to speak, staring at Harry with a look of betrayal that made him want to laugh. "You needed to destroy Voldemort, you needed to support the light and follow in your parent's footsteps. You know the prophecy, it had to be you."

Harry growled and took a step forward. "Follow in their footsteps. Die, you mean?" Harry said in a deadly tone.

With narrowed eyes the portrait of Dumbledore seemed to puff himself up before speaking, "For the greater good, my boy, some sacrifices must be made."

"How is my death for the greater good?!" Harry screamed, before he took a breath. "And don't you even think to use my parents against me! I doubt my parents would have wanted me to sacrifice my life after they lost their own lives saving mine!"

"They believed in the light! The prophecy!"

"The prophecy," Harry spit the word out, "it's always been about the prophecy. But tell me Albus, was there ever a prophecy, or did you just make that up to fit your desires?" Harry asked.

Dumbledore seemed to vibrate in anger in his portrait, before he once again put on his sagely persona. "How could you ask me that, my boy? Your parents died for that prophecy."

"They died for me!" Harry shouted, "They died sacrificing their lives so that I could live mine!"

"They were great people, true light followers! They knew that some sacrifices had to be made. Just look at you now, Harry, you practically ooze darkness - you're turning into Tom!" Dumbledore said, his voice comically rising in pretend concern.

"I'm exactly who I've always been Albus, just without your manipulations," Harry said.

"This is why you had to die, Harry. You're just like Tom, just as dark," Albus finally said, losing his grandfatherly persona.

"Dark does not mean evil!" Phineas Black's portrait shouted, interrupting the conversation with the support of the other former headmasters and headmistresses.

"He's right," Harry said, drawing the conversation back to himself. "Dark does not mean evil. Something you have never understood."

Albus huffed arrogantly, "You think to tell me anything? I am Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, and you are just a boy!"

Harry shook his head condescendingly. "No, you're the portrait of a dead man," Harry said icily.

Albus huffed again, "And you're a dead man walking, Harry. Or did you forget? You killed your soulmate." Albus' taunt made Harry's heart twinge momentarily and once again the other portraits exploded in anger.

Harry, however, started to chuckle softly after the moment passed, eventually gaining the attention of the room when his guffaws became loud enough to notice.

"You think this is funny?!" Albus demanded, wanting to know why Harry was not crying because of his words.

Harry eventually calmed down and shot Albus a hard look. "Yes," Harry said to everybody's confusion.

"There is no bringing him back this time, Harry. I made sure of that," Albus taunted. "You will die just like him."

Harry, however, just smirked. "Ah, that, Albus, is where you are wrong," he said.

The portrait of Albus jumped to his feet and pushed his face closer to the frame. "What have you done?!" he demanded.

"Tell me Albus, what do you know about the Deathly Hallows?" Harry taunted.

The portrait seemed to lose colour, something Harry didn't know was possible.

"Impossible," he whispered.

"Oh no, dear Albus, imagine my surprise when I did my blood inheritance test and I found myself to be the lord of five families and the Master of Death," Harry said.

The other portraits all froze at his words, shocked whispers running rampant.

"So you're going to bring him back." Albus said with disgust, looking at Harry with pure unadulterated hatred.

Harry laughed again. "Oh no, where's the fun in that? Even Death doesn't like to bring back those who have passed. No, what I'm planning is much more fun, dear Albie," Harry continued to taunt.

"What, you demented boy?!"

"Why, I'm going to go back," Harry said.

His words caused all the noise to stop before finally soft chuckling then full blown belly laughs were heard. Unsurprisingly, it was once again Phineas Black's portrait.

"You can't!" Albus screamed.

"Oh, but I can, and it will be glorious," Harry replied, his dark smirk promising revenge. "I will have my revenge and save Tom," he promised.

"He can't be saved!" Albus tried to reason in vain, hoping to regain control of Harry.

"I refuse to believe that!" Harry replied, before his warning wards gave a twinge. Pulling out the map Harry saw McGonagall walking toward the office. With a smile Harry tucked it away and faced the portrait of Albus for the last time. "It seems our time together has come to an end, so I will just say this: I cannot wait to see you again, professor."

With that Harry turned and made his way to the door, ignoring Dumbledore's cries and threats and Phineas' laughs.

Harry had to let out a small chuckle as he heard Black shout, "please come and visit us when you return boy, I simply cannot wait to see who you become," just as he closed the door.

Exiting the office in time, Harry caught McGonagall just as she turned the corner.

"Mr. Potter, what are you doing here?" she asked.

Harry schooled his features and smiled at her. "I came to talk to you actually, professor," he said.

"Well then, why don't we take this up to Albus' office?" she asked.

"No," Harry said quickly. "I mean, I would like to see the progress that's been made fixing the damage, if that's alright with you."

McGonagall nodded after looking at Harry with surprise at his quick rejection. "That's fine with me, Mr. Potter," she said, leading the way away from the office.

"Now, what is it you wished to speak to me about?" she asked.

"I was wondering if you had heard about my decision to not return to Hogwarts in September?" he asked, gaining pursed lips from McGonagall before she replied.

"I had heard, and I cannot say I blame you, but I do wish you would reconsider," she said.

Harry felt a moment of anger well up in him as he wondered if she was in on Dumbledore's schemes. She was his deputy after all, and they always seemed close.

"Oh professor?" Harry said hoping for her to elaborate so he could watch her response.

"I cannot even image all you had to go through in order to defeat Voldemort, but I will be honest with you Harry; you have a unique ability. You inspire those around you and I had hoped that, if you returned, maybe others would as well. However, I do understand why you would choose not to. I suppose it would seem silly to return to being a student when you have gone through so much," she said.

Harry's relief at her words was immense. Although it was not definite proof, Harry felt he could trust that she was not in on Dumbledore's schemes.

They continued to make small talk as they view the grounds. The castle's damage was still extensive, but Minerva, as she now insisted on being called as she was no longer his teacher, assured Harry the school would be operational by September.

Walking him to the gates so he could apparate, Minerva smiled at Harry. "You will visit?" she asked, although it sounded more like a demand.

Harry smiled. "I will be back before you know it," Harry promised.

Grimmauld Place, 9th June 1998

Returning to Grimmauld Place for the last time, in this lifetime at least, had Harry looking about in nostalgia. He was ready now, he thought.

Sitting down at the kitchen table, Harry, with a cup of tea Kreacher made, thought about Death to summon Him.

After a few minutes, Harry noticed the shadows growing before a voice asked, "You're ready now?"

Harry swallowed the last of his tea before he turned and looked at Death.

"Yes," he said. "I want to go back to just before I received my letter to Hogwarts."

Death seemed to nod, "Very well."

Harry sat, wondering how this would all work, before suddenly he felt like his body was being forced through a blender. If he thought portkeys were bad, they were nothing compared to this; Harry felt like his very atoms were being ripped apart and rearranged. His last thought was that he was probably correct.

AN: Big thank you to my Beta reader miisticalwrites for taking the time to check this for me!

Remember people that reviews are always appreciated but I won't hold the story to ransom for them.

Updates should come every few days and like usual this is being posed on Ao3 under the same name.

Hope you enjoy reading

~ Annie