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Harry Potter And The Game of Death

Level 1

Chapter Six: Death and The Peverells

Harry and Hermione both shook their heads at Dumbledore's question.

The Headmaster took their ignorance in stride. "The story I speak of is an old children's tale, one which is often told to wizarding children in a manner similar to that of the muggle's Mother Goose rhymes. Although I must say that the story concerning poor Humpty Dumpty brought a tear to my eye when first I read it."

Despite his returning irritation with the Headmaster's roundabout manner of speaking, harry could not help but give a slight chuckle. The mental image of Professor Dumbledore reading a copy of Mother Goose and crying over Humpty Dumpty was just too amusing.

The old wizard gave a slight cough as his blue eyes sparkled in the light. "In any case, I mention that only to give the two of you a point of reference. Because while wizarding tradition would hold the two to be rather similar in terms of historical veracity, myself and some few others disagree. For unlike the farcical stories told in Mother Goose whose point is to impart morals, Beetle's tale holds more than a few grains of historical truth."

"How so, sir," Hermione asked seriously. "And what does this have to do with Harry's situation?"

The subdued twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes grew brighter at her words. "An excellent pair of questions, Ms. Granger. I'll be brief, since I suspect that each of you will understand the gist of my point well before I reach the story's conclusion."

Harry and Hermione leaned back into their own chairs as the ancient wizard began to tell the story. A story of how three brothers, each a powerful and mighty wizard, had an encounter with Death. How each brother asked something from Death, and how Death had crafted three items of great and power magic to fulfil their requests. And the tragic conclusion where two of the brothers succumbed to the hidden flaw in their desires, while the third one lived a long and happy life which only ended when he was ready to pass on.

The first thing to catch Harry's attention in the story was the family name held by the three brothers. Peverell. It was the same last name as one of Harry's traits, and it took all of Harry's concentration to resist pressing on the trait to learn more until Dumbledore had finished telling the story. Especially when a chill ran down his back as he began to match the information of the story with the name of another trait.

When he mentioned as much once the Headmaster had finished speaking, the look on his bearded face was not nearly so surprised as Harry had expected. If anything, a subdued look of joy or triumph shot through Dumbledore's eyes upon Harry's words.

Harry was not the only one to notice the professor's reaction, and Hermione beat him to the punch of pointing it out. "That information did not come as a surprise to you just now. Did it, sir?"

After a short pause during which several inscrutable emotions passed across his face, the Headmaster replied in a cautious tone of voice. "No, my dear. I am afraid that it did not. The information falls in line with several theories I have constructed over the many years of my life. Theories which, in turn, had led me to suspect Harry of having a close connection to the entity commonly known as Death long before the events of tonight."

"What?" Harry growled out. Though he nearly felt numbed by the sheer number of revelations and twists the night had given him, a burst of surprise and anger shot through him at the revelation that the aged Headmaster had kept something of this magnitude from him.

Beside him, an unsurprised Hermione reached out to squeeze his arm as she pinned a thoughtful gaze on the Headmaster. "I… think that I can understand why you did not tell him, professor. Even if I don't agree with it. But now that things have come to this, you cannot continue to hide things from Harry. Correct?"

"Indeed Ms. Granger. You are correct." Sighing, the man turned his bright blue eyes on the pair of them and gave a tremulous smile. "Too much has come to pass this night that I did not envision. And though it might come off as the worries of an overbearing adult, believe me when I say that I have, and have always had, each of your best interests at heart."

"Nevertheless, sir, it is time to tell us what you can. After all, trust is built on the truth." Harry said with a bite to his tone. "Please, professor. I want to trust you, just like I have in the past. But to do so, you need to tell us the truth."

Harry squeezed Hermione's comforting hand as he spoke. Losing Sirius to the Ministry, almost dying to Dementors, and everything with the Game of Death had taken a lot out of him. Losing his trust in Dumbledore, one of the few people he truly admired, would shatter every bit of respect Harry had in the adults around him.

The old man sighed and rubbed his temples with an aged hand. "You make a sound argument, Harry. I will tell you what I can. But understand that I cannot tell you everything I know. We lack the time necessary, and parts of it touch upon a personal subject of mine which I must ask your forgiveness for withholding."

"Does it have anything to do with Harry's history, professor?" Hermione questioned.

"No. It is merely a sad story from my own youth, and one that I am not wont to tell." Dumbledore said softly. "In any case, I can promise to tell you what I can, and to provide you with a number of ancient tomes to read over this summer. Tomes which will guide you in learning more about this esoteric subject on your own, as well as some of the equally mysterious areas it touches upon. Would that be an acceptable compromise?"

Harry gave a shrug of his shoulders. As long as his questions were answered tonight, then it was okay with him.

Meanwhile, Hermione pursed her lips thoughtfully. "Thank you, sir. But I'll only agree if these books are made available to Harry as well."

"I am afraid that that cannot be done," Dumbledore said with a shake of his head. "The books in questions are of surpassing rarity since they contain enchantments which make it rather difficult to copy their information. But should you and Mr. Potter meet up with one another this summer, then I have no objection to you sharing them at that time."

"That would be acceptable." A bright gleam, familiar to Harry from their hours spent studying together, entered Hermione's eyes as the prospect of researching a new and unknown subject reared its head. "I can keep notes of what I find and then explain them to Harry as I go along, too."

"An excellent plan, Ms. Granger. And please know that either of you may correspond with me should you run into something you are unable to understand, though my duties with the International Confederation of Wizards and the Wizengamot may preclude me from responding promptly." Dumbledore turned to look at Harry. "Now, going back to the heart of our discussion. I must ask you, Harry, if you have yet learned what either of the traits you mentioned might mean?"

"No, sir. Not yet," Harry responded glumly. First Hermione had caught him out on not looking into what his traits meant. Now Dumbledore had as well. There would not be a third time when he brought Ron into the fold, Harry resolved. "But if you give me a moment I can find out. Hermione, could you write it down for the Professor to read as well?"

Hermione nodded and retrieved both a quill and blank piece of blank paper from the professor's desk. Once she did, Harry took a deep breath and selected the two traits.

What he found was not very comforting.

Possessor of a Deathly Hallow

Any witch or wizard bearing this title is in possession of one of the three Deathly Hallows. Possessing a Hallow allows a witch or wizard to use its passive abilities, but grants no other powers or bonuses until the possessor is acknowledged as the item's master.

Peverell Bloodline

You are one of, if not the only, remaining member of the Peverell Bloodline. This bloodline has been linked to the ancient Tale of the Three Brothers as told in the story by Beetle the Bard, who himself was descended of this ancient house of powerful magi. Once one of the ruling families of the ancient magical world, the Peverell family suffered a catastrophic fall in power after the deaths of Antioch, Cadmus, and Ignotus. This fall in grace also coincided with the beginning of the Roman Empire's decline, causing several scholars of ancient magical history to wonder if the two events were in any way linked to one another. This theory has not received much traction within the mainstream academic community.

Yet beware, young descendant, for there is always a grain of truth to every ancient story. Take heed of the lessons learned by the three brothers Peverell and choose a different path lest ye suffer the same fate as they.

The first trait was rather straightforward. It basically stated that Harry owned a Deathly Hallow. And that while he could use it, it would not give him anything special until he had somehow 'mastered' it.

But as for that second trait… Harry honestly had no idea what he should think about it. The trait was dense, confusing, and possibly even downright threatening at the end. And what it brought up just boggled the mind.

Did it mean that Harry was descended from ancient magical royalty? Or that in order to beat Voldemort, Harry would need to rule over the entire magical world? To forge an army and be hailed as king? Like what had happened in those famous Muggle books the Lord of the Rings and The Narnia Chronicles?

Harry felt his eyes begin to widen as his mind continued to travel down that path.

That train of thought… could be right. The end of the trait had mentioned that he would need to take a different path than the three brothers or else suffer a similar ending. And according to the story as told by the Headmaster, none of the three brothers had taken the path of becoming a ruler.

"What does that mean?" Harry whispered. He gulped as a feeling of sudden pressure fell over him. "Am I supposed to be some kind of magical king? Is there a prophecy out there saying that I'm the chosen one, and that I'm destined to either usher in an age of darkness or a golden age of peace?"

Harry felt Hermione lay a hand on his shoulder as if to comfort him, but he shrugged it off. She might be his best friend, but right now that fact alone was making Harry fear and hurt even more. Heroes from stories like the Lord of the Rings, the Peverells, or mythology rarely had good endings.

Maybe this was why his parents had died when he was a child. Because Fate, or Death, or some other Higher Power had decreed it. All in order to bring about some ancient master plan.

And maybe, just maybe, that was also the reason why he had been raised by the Dursley's too. Perhaps it was all just some sort of giant plot by destiny, or the gods, or the universe itself to manipulate him into doing what some ancient seer or sorcerer had set into motion millennia before Harry had ever been born.

Harry tried to push those wild thoughts out of his head. But a niggling little voice in his mind would not allow him to back away. It continued to draw him further and further down its dark path, like a siren of legend leading the ancient sailors to their deaths. And just like a siren's call, Harry found himself unable to resist listening to it until Dumbledore's voice broke its terrible spell.

"I am sorry that such a heavy burden has been thrust upon your shoulders, my boy," the old wizard said softly, his blue eyes radiating sorrow. "It is something which no one your age should have to bear and is something I have sought to prevent every way I could. But even in this dark moment, I do believe there is at least one silver lining present."

Harry gave a dark chuckle at the Headmaster's words. "And what would that be, sir?"

"Quite simply that the last true monarch of magical Britain died, without an heir, in the time of Merlin some fifteen hundred years prior. Furthermore, the founding charter of the British Ministry of Magic explicitly states that there shall be no hereditary ruler or tyrant allowed to possess full and unfettered power over the state."

Harry rolled his eyes. "So you're saying…"

"That unless you desire to launch a revolution to topple the government and install yourself as monarch, Harry, you do not have to worry about becoming king in the slightest. As doing so would otherwise be quite impossible in this modern era."

A slight feeling of relief did flow through Harry upon hearing that. Even if he was beyond angry with Fudge, launching a revolution against the man would never happen. Harry had no desire to be the ruler of anything, be it as a politician, a monarch, or anything else.

Alas, the small relief he felt from that revelation was destined to be short lived when the Headmaster continued to speak. "That said, it is with great sorrow that I must continue our discussion. For what I am about to tell you next could very well make you wish that being the one true king of magical Britain was, in fact, your fated destiny."

Harry's stomach dropped as he heard those words. They did not bode well. Oh, they really did not bode well. And when things in his life did not bode well, it generally meant that something really bad was on its way.

"You see, there is a truth known to only a rare few in our world. And though entire departments of the government are dedicated to studying this truth in secret, many brilliant wizards and witches go decades without even suspecting it." Dumbledore's eyes flashed and he gave a derisive half-smile. "I speculated its existence during my later years as a student at Hogwarts. Yet even I only learned of its veracity upon being apprenticed to Nicholas Flamel when I was twenty-five years old."

A calm settled upon the office as Dumbledore spoke. The air began to tingle with magic, and the light of the roaring fire seemed to grow dim.

"The truth of which I speak is that this world of ours is more than just magical or mundane. The truth, so far as I know, is that this world in which we live contains entities, or forces, which lie far beyond the realm of mortal understanding. Entities which are both ancient and powerful beyond all known measure." Dumbledore looked directly at Harry. "And sometimes, as has been done this very evening, one or more of those forces will choose to interfere with those of us who dwell on the mortal plane."

Harry rubbed his aching temples with both his hands. That foreboding feeling of his had definitely been right. "So then, has Death…"

"Taken an interest in you? As I said earlier, it has. But as your new ability proclaims, and as my own earlier experiment verified, the connection between you has become something far greater than the mere interest I had suspected prior to the events of tonight."

Dumbledore lifted his wand. From its tip, small shapes burst forth in smoky illusions and slowly flew into the air. "In the time of the ancient Egyptian and Olmec Empires, or even in the later years of the ancient world when it was dominated by earthly powers like Greece and Rome, the higher powers of which I speak were treated as gods. And those who drew their attention, whom we now know as the heroes and heroines of myth and legend, were often treated as being the children of these beings. Or even as possessing divinity themselves."

The small, smoky shapes slowly took form as the ancient wizard's voice trailed off. They took the form of men and women, some bearing arms like swords and bows, while others wielded wands and staves. Each radiated a sense of power and will as they moved through the air.

At Harry's side, Hermione mumbled names under her breath as she scanned the assembled crowd. "Achilles. Atalanta. Beowulf. Cu Chulainn. Gilgamesh. Louhi. Medea. Odysseus. Sun Wukong."

More continued to join their company, swelling their number many times over until not even Hermione could identify them all. Some were handsome and beautiful. Others appeared scarred and hideous. They ranged from old to young, to tall and to short. Some had light skin tones while others had dark, and together they seemed to represent all the ancient heroes and villains of mythology. These men and women of legend looked down upon Harry and the others as though they were deities upon high, casting judgment down on the three mortals beneath their feet.

It was an incredible sight. One which filled Harry with both awe and trepidation. Because his gut was telling him that this could only herald more hardship for him and his friends.

When the final figure of smoke left his wand, Dumbledore resumed speaking. "The men and women shown in the air around us led lives of such vibrancy and brilliance that it resulted in the world remembering their stories for generations. Tales of courage, of battles against adversity, and of triumphs against hopeless odds. They shone as beacons in the darkest of nights and showed their peoples what mortals could accomplish should they be given the means to do so."

Dumbledore paused to look at Harry and Hermione in turn. "But their tales contains a harsh reminder that their glory was often a double-edged sword. For each had to face terrible trials and tribulations in their lifetimes, and only a rare few succeeded in passing them."

The illusory figures in the air began to change. Some cried out in silent voices, mouths open as their bodies were ravaged. Their forms were consumed by flame, drowned by water, torn about by swords, or ruined by magic. A gasp left Hermione's mouth at the sight and the young girl tightly grasped Harry's arm with both hands.

The imagery struck Harry intensely as well. Seeing these figures of myth and legend suffer horrible ends before his eyes drove Dumbledore's point home in a way that mere words alone failed to convey.

"I tell you this not to frighten either of you, but to illustrate a point," Dumbledore stated firmly. "Because no longer are they believed to be the children of gods, nor even divine. Instead, we know them as being exceptional individuals who were chosen for great and terrible purposes."

The old man raised a hand to his face. He gently rubbed his eyes as his body drooped with fatigue. "I had wanted to protect you from this, my boy, but it seems that many of my efforts have been for naught. Yet be that is it may, it is my ardent belief, Harry, that the ordeals which loom on the horizon cannot be overcome by you alone. Friends, allies, and people whom you have yet to even meet will aid you in ways that none of can begin to imagine. And when their strength is added to your own, perhaps even the fiercest of storms shall not seem so frightening."

"So then, Professor, what would you suggest that we do?" Harry asked fiercely. Hermione tightened her grip on his arm to deathlike proportions as he spoke. Harry was certain that if he looked at her, the girl's eyes would be blazing with a fearful yet fiery determination. "If Death really has taken an interest in me… then shouldn't we make a plan of action? So that what happened to the heroes of old, and the Peverells, doesn't happen to me? Or to any of us?"

"Yes. But not tonight," Dumbledore said with a shake of his head. "Because as myth and history has shown, it would be terribly unwise to meddle overmuch without more knowledge concerning your new ability. For now, the best we can do is to wait and to gather more information. Lest in haste we commit some action which cannot be undone."

Harry opened his mouth to argue further but was stopped when Dumbledore held up a hand. "Unfortunately, I too am dealing with something like this for the very first time, and anything else I have to say about this would not make much sense to you. Not without a greater contextual understanding of the subject in question."

"Which we can gain from the books you will provide me, correct?" Hermione questioned in a firm tone of voice.

"You are correct again, Ms. Granger."

"Then where does that leave us right now, sir?" The girl asked fervidly. "Most importantly, where does that leave Harry?"

Dumbledore's tired gaze turned gentle at Hermione's inquiry. "I believe that it leaves each of us exactly where we ought to be, Ms. Granger. Specifically, at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and early in the morning after a rather long and tiresome evening."

The old wizard gave Harry and Hermione a tired yet hopeful smile as he spread his hands. "Now, the rest of what we must discuss can wait until a later date. If you would be so kind as to jot down the remainder of Harry's various traits before departing, then I would recommend that the two of you make your way back to your dorms for some well deserved rest. Once you leave, I will depart for the Ministry so that I may resume my efforts to prove Sirius' innocence and stop whatever foolish plans Minister Fudge has attempted to enact during our time here."

And that was the end of matters. Harry nodded his head in tired acknowledgment. Hermione took her hands away from him and, with Harry's assistance, carefully transcribed the rest of his stats page onto several pieces of parchment as the Headmaster had asked.

Then, shoulder to shoulder, both students made their way down the spiralling staircase which led to and from the Headmaster's office and into the darkened hallways of Hogwarts at night.

An hour later found Harry staring at the ceiling above his four-poster bed. Exhaustion coursed through his body, but he fought it off. There was one final activity he needed to do before he could drift off to sleep. Which was to read the rest of his traits and titles and learn exactly what each of them meant.

By now he had read most of them. And while most were fairly straightforward, like the Quidditch and Basilisk traits, there were a few that were more… complicated.

Heroic Child

A rare title only given to children who meet strict requirements. They must have the Loyal, Humble, True Friend, and Survivor traits. They must also be aligned against anything Dark or Evil. Most importantly, they must have knowingly saved the lives of others at great risk to their own for little to no personal gain. Gives an automatic 15% boost to levelling any skill, +10 to the charisma attribute, +5 to both mental attributes, +1000 reputation points with ordinary citizens, +5000 reputation points with anyone who is a friend or family member of someone they have saved, +10000 reputation points with anyone they have saved, -1000 reputation points with anyone who bears a title related to the Seven Deadly Sins, and -5000 reputation points with anyone who is aligned with the Dark Arts.

One thought kept running through Harry's head while he had stared at the Heroic Child trait. That the description could not possibly apply to him. He was no hero, no matter how many times other called him such.

But as if to counterbalance that terribly inaccurate title and all the self-debt it brought with it, there were also traits which brought a wry smile to Harry's lips. Traits whose accuracy was beyond any shadow of reasonable doubt. Even if he wished that it were otherwise.

The trait which had surprised him the most, though, was the Weak Familiar Bond. Ever since he had gotten her from Hagrid, Harry had known that Hedwig was special. The owl was too smart for her own good and had wriggled her way into Harry's heart from the moment they met. Yet to know that they had a literal magical bond which tied them together had made Harry's eyes tear up in joy.

Familiar Bond

An uncommon bond which forms between a magical creature and a human. This bond ties the two together in ways that are not fully known. What is known is that both of the bonded receive a boost to their mental attributes depending on the strength of the bond between the two. This trait can be removed or changed over time.

Ever since he had gotten her from Hagrid, Harry had known that Hedwig was special. The owl was too smart for her own good and had wriggled her way into Harry's heart from the moment they met. Yet to know that they had a literal magical bond which tied them together had made Harry's eyes tear up in joy.

And if that had made him tear up, then reading two of his other traits had made him outright bawl.

Heir Apparent to the Potter Family

A title denoting the current heir to the magical line of the House of Potter. This title gives the bearer access to the Potter Underage Trust Vault and all Potter Family Properties. It also gives +1000 reputation with Pureblood Sympathizer trait bearers, +2000 reputation with fellow nobles, and increases the speed of one's ability to learn Transfiguration and DADA spells by 50%. This title can be removed or changed over time.

A Mother's Protection

This trait is unique to Harry Potter and is a result of the sacrificial protective spell cast upon him by his mother the night of Voldemort's defeat. This trait gives a +50% chance to ignore the effects of any true Dark Magic spell, the ability to inflict instant damage to Lord Voldemort's body or soul through physical contact, and complete immunity to magical harm or detection while living with her sole remaining blood relative, Petunia Dursley. This trait has weakened over time and will eventually disappear once Harry Potter reaches the age of his magical majority.

There, in those traits, was an explosive amount of information. He had a family. He had roots and history. Ancestors who had looked like him. And a mother who had loved him enough to literally sacrifice her life in order to cast a spell that would keep him safe from harm.

These revelations and more had rocked Harry's world and were what had led to him staring at the ceiling above his bed. And with time spent thinking about them had come an acceptance of Dumbledores earlier words regarding Sirius. And hope that things would soon get better for his newly found godfather.

For better or for worse, it had all started thanks to the Game of Death. For the first time in his life, Harry could somewhat understand why his life was changing. He had information now. Knowledge gained from both the Game and the Headmaster.

And as Harry grew and continued to possess the Game of Death, his knowledge and his power would only grow. Perhaps to the point where he would become strong enough to avoid the terrible fates that had befallen all those heroes and villains of legend, and to protect the people he cared for.

If it did, then Harry could easily bear with whatever Death intended for him. A thought which finally calmed his racing mind and allowed him to drift off to sleep.

It was only on the next day when he was taking care of his morning ablutions in the shared third year bathroom for boys that Harry realized he had missed clicking on one of the traits. The title of the trait had not seemed to be important at the time, so he had ignored it.

Harry swished some water around in his mouth as he absent-mindedly clicked on the trait and read its description.

Horcrux:

A creation of the most foul and evil of Dark Magics. Anything which bears this trait has had a portion of a Dark Wizard or Witch's soul grafted onto them. Creatures, especially sapient ones, are heavily affected and changed by this status. Gives a -10 to all stats, the possibility of obtaining or using skills possessed by the Dark Wizard or Witch in question, and runs the risk of personality contamination for any sapient creature which bears this title. This trait can be removed or changed over time with great difficulty. Its negative effects can also grow worse over time should the connection between the host and the foreign soul go unresolved or, in the worst case, strengthen.

"Aww, c'mon Harry. Learn to keep it in your mouth why dont'cha," a wet Seamus Finnigan grumbled as he towelled his face dry. "If yer going to do the Muggle way of tooth cleaning, don't just spit it on the guy standing next to ye. That's just rude."

A/N: And with this, the introduction part of the story is (finally) over. Next up, the end of an era and the first steps in Harry's new direction!

Until Next Time,

Elsil