Content Warnings

We are going to work with the dead here – think funeral parlour, embalming and the like. Plus necromancy, obviously, and also possibly murders. I might or might not get graphic in my descriptions, but if the very idea already makes you uncomfortable – you have been warned.

Prologue

August 1996

It was an ordinary summer day in Scotland. The sky was overcast, the weather mild and Hogwarts castle was, for the most part, silent.

Albus Dumbledore was sitting in his office, absentmindedly stroking the magnificent crimson feathers of his Phoenix as he patiently waited for his guest to arrive. He was unsure, still, whether this was the best course of action to take. He had originally planned for Severus to take on the post of the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor and bring Horace back to teach potions. This would have had the added benefit of having Horace nearby to extract the truth of a certain memory from him. But the risk was too high. He couldn't chance losing Severus' life to the jinx on the Defence position. He still needed Severus for far more important matters than a mere memory he could get by other means.

A knock on the door interrupted his musings.

"Please, come in."

The door to his office opened to reveal an old woman, hair as white as her eyes, her face and hands – the only skin visible on her person beneath the dark robes – marred by wrinkles. A dog made of shadows and fiery eyes walked by her side.

Albus frowned at it, but Fawkes did not appear to be bothered by its presence.

The woman smiled, baring her teeth. "Hello, Albus."

"And a good day to you, Sephoneia. I see you are still alive."

"Charmer. Yes, I am still alive – despite my best offers, I assure you." She raised her eyebrows at him. "Unlike yourself, if we give it another year."

He sighed. "Nothing can be hidden from you, it seems. Please, take a seat." He gestured to the chairs in front of his desk, then rose to retrieve his fine china. "Would you care for some tea?"

"What is it with the English and their tea?" She rolled her eyes as she sat down. "We are not even in England. Yes, I would like some tea. Have you met Inpu, yet?" She gave the dog by her feet a pat on the head. "He came to me some twenty or thirty years ago."

"A Church Grim. I believe I caught a glimpse of him the last time we spoke."

"So, tell me," Sephoneia said, drumming her fingers on the table. "How did you manage to get your hands on the Resurrection Stone? In combination with such a lovely curse at that. Don't think I missed that necrosis even if you've hidden your hand until now. Greet an old friend properly, next time."

Albus smiled sadly. "My apologies." He put a golden ring on the table. "Can you tell me anything about it?"

Sephoneia made a gesture and the ring floated up to her. She scowled. "You cracked the Stone."

"Well, it seems not even the Deathly Hallows are indestructible."

Sephoneia shot him a glare, her voice frosty, "If you wanted to see Ariana, all you had to do was ask me."

Albus didn't meet her eyes, pretending to concentrate on pouring tea. "It was foolish to put it on, yes. But that is not why I damaged your precious Stone."

The glare disappeared, replaced by a curious look as Sephoneia turned her attention back to the ring. She tapped it with her finger, making it spin mid-air. "The curse hides it well. Was this a soul container?"

"Yes. And it won't be the last."

"You people do the oddest things." Sephoneia leaned back, picking up the cup of tea Albus presented to her with one hand and letting the ring fall into the other, not even pretending to care about the curse possibly affecting her. "I shall be keeping this as payment for whatever it is you called me here for."

"Could you reverse the curse? Make it harmless?"

She shrugged. "Perhaps I could have, but it is too late now. It has grown roots."

"It is unfortunate, but I expected as much."

"I don't know what you expect me to do here, Albus. I treat the dead, not the living." She paused, tilting her head. "Unless you want me to bring you back afterwards? Ensure you can be headmaster forever, looking over your school until the end."

"No need." Albus looked at Fawkes, who was keeping a wary eye on Inpu. The Grim had not moved at all from its position by Sephoneia's feet, its shape more shadow than dog. "When the time comes, I shall welcome Death with open arms."

"As you should. Though it makes me wonder – you got your hands on the Stone. You are still in possession of the Wand you stole from Gellert – who says Hi, by the way. He's been a bit lonely. You haven't visited in a while." Sephoneia directed a pointed look at Albus' blackened hand. "Maybe you should get to that. Sooner rather than later."

"I will." He took a deliberate sip of his tea, using his left hand rather than cradling the cup in both as he tended to do. He did not prompt her to continue her line of thought, but she picked it up regardless.

"I heard there's a Potter at school. Did he inherit the Cloak? You could unite all three and see what happens. I'm sure Gellert would love to hear all about it."

Albus looked stunned for a moment. "Do you … not know the Boy Who Lived?"

Sephoneia frowned. "Every boy lives – just as every boy dies."

There was a moment of silence. Then Albus put his face in his hand, looking as if he had suddenly aged another hundred years.

"Is this to do with the latest little squabble your lot has gotten into? You know I've never been interested in those."

"Little squabble," Albus repeated, aghast, and aged some more.

"So? Have you thought about uniting the Hallows?"

He sighed. "You know I have."

"But you're not going to do it. Pity. What have you called me here for, then, Albus?"

Folding his hands on the table between them, Albus began to tell Sephoneia about the jinx on the Defence Against the Dark Arts position.

"You want me to break it?"

"If you would like to, I won't stop you."

"You want me to teach?" Sephoneia gave him an incredulous look. "What could have possibly possessed you to even entertain such a ridiculous idea?"

"Do you not have experience teaching the younger generations?"

"In the Old Arts, yes, but not conventional magic. I haven't picked up my wand since I graduated."

"I have confidence you will manage regardless. Perhaps the fact that two of your – ah – great-great-grandchildren are currently attending Hogwarts might entice you?"

Sephoneia tilted her head. "Are they? For all that my daughter had three children in her time, I got surprisingly few great-grandchildren from her side. Unsurprising, really, for the Lémures tend to die young." She huffed. "It is ironic, in a way, that I have outlived all my children and grandchildren, now, and they shall forever remain young either in Death's embrace or their immortality. But that can't be all, Albus. Teaching some nonsense for a year? Surely your network is vast enough to find someone better suited for the job. Although I suppose whoever succeeds you won't have it nearly as easy."

"I have been hard-pressed to do so for four decades, Sephoneia. Even my network is not inexhaustible. Though I have high hopes the jinx will be broken in perhaps two years' time."

"And what do you want from me?"

There was a moment of silence.

"Albus. What do you want from me?"

Looking her straight in the eyes, he solemnly told her, "I want you to kill me, when the time comes."

"Why?" Sephoneia gave him a bewildered look. "That curse will do the job just fine on its own."

"There is a plot to force one of my students to murder me and I cannot let that happen. I did ask someone else to do it, but … I fear it is too much to ask for."

"The same person who treated your hand?"

"Yes. He is a spy among Voldemort's ranks – the dark wizard trying to take over Britain, Sephoneia. I am sure you will be able to come up with a reasonable excuse as to why you wanted to kill me, so Voldemort won't get suspicious of my spy."

Sephoneia held up the ring she had taken from him earlier, inspecting the cracked Resurrection Stone with a thoughtful look. By her feet, the shadows formed a dog once more and looked up to follow the ring with crimson eyes.

"Hm … Oh, fine. I'll do it"