Author's Note: I apologize for the late upload, FFN wasn't letting me post yesterday. However, it should be fixed now.
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"Avada Kedavra!"
Thanatos dropped to the ground, barely dodging the curse before jumping back up.
A flick of his wrist conjured a marble slab to block a curse, and another shot the pieces at the 2 attacking Death Eaters like a shotgun blast.
The bloodcurdling scream was followed by two shouts of Avada Kedavra, forcing Thanatos to drop to the ground to dodge.
Sure, he could take them and just blast them back out, but if he did that and a single Death Eater escaped, then Tom would almost definitely put the pieces together.
A powerful cutting curse shrieked through the air with a sharp slash of his wand, bisecting two Death Eaters down the middle.
Thanatos summoned the corpses, throwing them in the way of an Avada Kedavra before launching them at his target.
He dropped and sent a Blasting Curse at a Death Eater's knees, blowing them off.
"Crucio!"
Thanatos transformed instinctively, barely rolling under the curse to his back.
"He's an Animagus too?!" A Death Eater yelled, and Thanatos swore.
"Guess there's no need to hide it anymore," He muttered.
He transformed back and slashed his wand, causing a giant torrent of flame to shoot out.
Thanatos ran into the flames and jumped out the other side, drop-kicking a female Death Eater in the chest.
He transformed as he fell and shot off, rolling under a Killing Curse.
Thanatos transformed right in front of another Death Eater and dropped them with a point-blank Blasting Curse.
He ducked low and shot forward, launching another Blasting Curse behind him as he did.
Huge chunks of stone exploded out of the ground, with a few lucky pieces hitting nearby Death Eaters.
Thanatos concentrated and blasted his magic out, and the rubble turned into dozens of large crows.
He shot off, transforming mid-stride and hiding between the murder.
'A bit of investigation turned into this,' Thanatos thought as he flew around.
He'd been called here to examine the sheer amount of dark magic in a town near Dhermi, Albania, since it was apparently within his expertise and they didn't feel like sending one of their own to such a strong dark magic pool.
Not 15 minutes had passed when Death Eaters showed up, and a giant battle had broken out in an instant.
They hadn't expected to see him there, which allowed him to get a few cheap shots in, turning the over 30v1 into a 23v1.
Another Avada Kedavra flew past him, the wind from the magic ruffling his feathers.
'Now or never, I suppose,' Thanatos muttered.
He divebombed and transformed chest up, pointing his wand at the murder of crows.
"Oppungo!"
The murder of crows launched themselves at the Death Eaters like missiles, much to their shock and fear.
Thanatos landed and rolled up, waving his wand in a wide arc above his head.
The crows suddenly became supercharged with magic and exploded a moment later with a monstrous flash of light, heat, and sound.
Bloodcurdling screams filled the air as multiple Death Eaters had their masks blown off and faces melted, while others had their ribcages blown open, and a few lost limbs.
Eerie green light filled the area as Thanatos launched a flurry of Avada Kedavras, hitting most of the Death Eaters before their screams fully left their throats.
Bodies dropped like flies, followed by the clatter of wands and then unnatural silence.
An almost silent wind blew through the area, clearing away the thick clouds of dust.
Thanatos looked up, seeing a single Death Eater still alive, a chunk of their torso missing and their wand hand broken, half-buried under the corpse of another Death Eater.
Their mask was mostly gone, and the Death Eater looked 18 at most, barely out of whatever magical school they'd gone to.
Thanatos walked towards the Death Eater slowly, whose eyes widened in fear.
They raised their good hand, blabbering in what Thanatos recognized as Russian, clearly pleading for mercy.
A cold Avada Kedavra to the Death Eater's forehead ended their pleas, their hand thumping lifelessly against the ground.
If one saw Thanatos then, they'd see his eyes black and as lifeless as the Death Eater he'd just killed.
"You don't plead mercy in a war," He whispered in Russian, speaking to something that didn't exist in this world anymore.
Thanatos got to work transfiguring the corpses into rocks and other small objects; he'd need it for evidence for Amelia.
Thankfully, dead bodies were significantly easier to transfigure than alive ones, so he was done within a few minutes.
He transfigured a normal stone into a bag, shrunk the transfigured corpses, and dropped them into the bag, using a sticking charm to attach the bag to his hip.
"Anyway… back to investigating," Thanatos muttered as he returned to the pool of dark magic he'd been sent here for.
However, far beyond even Thanatos' senses, a lone witch sat atop a branch, her body hidden within the tree's canopy as she stared at Thanatos.
"Such power… He will wish to know about this," The witch whispered before disappearing with a soft crack.
–
The lights in the Department of Mysteries flickered, lanterns giving off dull light.
Something shifted at the edge of the light, right where it met the darkness, and a golden robe fluttered out a moment later.
"We're here!" Aahna exclaimed as she stepped through with Harry.
"Woah…" Harry whispered, looking around. "That was bloody awesome! Will I be able to do that?"
Aahna had just used the light as a form of travel, similar to traveling between shadows but with light sources instead.
Aahna shook her head. "Sorry, life-specific ability. I'm sure Luna will let you hitch a ride, though. At least once she learns it."
With that, the two walked deeper into the Department of Mysteries, walking past black doors and lanterns, both of which made Harry uneasy.
"How did Mum work here?" He muttered, making Aahna snort.
"It's not as bad as it seems," Aahna told him. "You only feel that way because you're not an employee here. It's a nice deterrent charm. Oh, and sorry about this, secrets must be kept."
Harry blinked, and they were suddenly in another room, filled with ceiling-high shelves stocked with glowing white orbs.
"This is the Hall of Prophecies," Aahna stated as if nothing had happened.
"What the–" Harry blinked, feeling an odd feeling wash over him.
He felt like his mind had opened, like some sort of door was there, and someone was pointing him towards something.
Harry walked forward tentatively, carefully navigating the shelves with Aahna walking slightly behind him.
He was sure not to touch any of the prophecies; for some reason, he knew that would be a bad idea.
Aahna smiled softly as she followed him, seeing the signs of the Fate Mark awakening with each step they took.
Harry came to a stop at a certain prophecy, which physically looked no different to any other, but it felt different.
Underneath was a small plaque, which read:
S.P.T to A.P.W.B.D
Dark Lord and Harry Potter
1980
Harry felt something about the prophecy call to him, and he gulped as a dull thump began in his chest.
"You don't have to take it, Harry," Aahna said softly, reassuring him. "You only have to Awaken the Fate Mark if you wish to."
"I— I want to," He said shakily. "I can do this."
Harry gulped and reached out, grabbing the prophecy orb before his doubt could stop him.
The world disappeared around him, becoming a swirl of colors and eventually fading to black.
"Huh? A-Aahna?" Harry asked nervously, wildly looking around. "Where am I?"
"Open your eyes, Harry," A soft, unknown voice spoke.
"How do you–" Harry stopped as he opened his eyes (didn't he already have them open?). "What the…"
Before Harry sat an enormous woman, larger than anything Harry had ever seen or even imagined. The woman had cloudy white eyes with no pupils, as if blind, but she stared directly at Harry.
White robes made of smoke trailed off her body, falling off her shoulders and revealing paleish-blue skin. The smoke trails solidified, becoming glowing white lines that trailed off into the darkness that surrounded them.
Her hair was white and curly, like clouds of some sort, though Harry could see the symbols he often saw in Divination form and dissolve from it.
The woman's face had a series of what looked like mathematical equations trailing in a line down her right cheek, down her neck, and to underneath her robes, with words on her left cheek, shifting and changing with the prophecies being spoken worldwide.
Harry blinked and looked down, realizing that he was standing in the woman's palm, which was easily the size of a building by itself, if not larger.
"Are you… fate?" Harry asked softly, looking up again.
In the back of his mind, he realized what being in Fate's hands would mean.
The woman smiled at him. "Yes, Harry. I am what you know as Lady Fate. You may call me Tyche if you wish, but Fate is also acceptable."
Fate's voice was eerily gentle yet as jagged as barbed wire. It felt as if she spoke from everywhere, all around him, yet inside his bones simultaneously. But it still managed to feel soothing in a way.
Harry nodded a bit. "And- err- you Marked me, right? That's why I'm here."
"You are correct, Harry," Fate replied. "You are a Makarios, or a Marked, as you say. You are here to accept the Mark."
Harry blinked and opened his mouth, wondering how she'd know that, before shutting it again after realizing that the embodiment of Fate itself would probably be able to know what he was going to do.
Fate looked at him in what he assumed to be amusement, and Harry remembered that both Thanatos and Aahna had no trouble reading his thoughts, so Fate was probably similar.
"No, you simply speak aloud quite often," Fate told him.
"Oh," Harry replied, thoroughly embarrassed.
Fate's face lost its amusement, and she eyed him keenly, making Harry feel suddenly very exposed.
She blew softly over him, and Harry suddenly felt himself leave his body, similar to the feeling he had when he'd died.
His physical body fell forward and unraveled like hundreds of threads inside Fate's palm, each thread shooting off in a random direction infinitely.
If he looked closely, Harry could see videos of his actions within each thread, and it suddenly clicked that each thread was a possible future.
"You learn quickly," Fate commented as she examined the threads.
She took a deep breath after a moment, and Harry's body quickly wrapped itself back up, with his soul being shoved back into his body.
"Bloody hell," Harry muttered, holding his head. He didn't realize how heavy his physical body was until just now, after feeling the weightlessness of being an unattached soul.
"I've examined every one of your futures, Harry," Fate told him softly. "Your will is strong within every timeline. I deem you, Harry James Potter, worthy of my Blessing and power. May Fate be with you, Baruch."
Fate blew on him again, and the world went dark again in a swirl of colors as something pulled Harry away like a particularly strong Portkey.
Harry landed back in the Hall of Prophecies, his hand still around the prophecy.
His knees buckled as his mind returned to him, and Aahna quickly caught him, wrapping an arm under his shoulder and hoisting him up with astounding strength.
"Woah…"
"I assume it went well?" Aahna asked, her eyes twinkling.
Harry nodded a bit. "Y-Yeah… I think– I think my soul left my body for a bit."
Aahna laughed a bit. "Oh, she pulled that on you? She must really like you then!"
Harry looked at her, confused. "What do you mean?"
"She doesn't need to do that to see the future of people," Aahna replied with amusement. "She did it to show off and really view you up close. Tychie only does that when she likes someone."
"Huh," Harry replied intelligently. He didn't exactly know if being liked by a— was it a goddess? By whatever Fate was— was good or bad.
Well, he was already blessed, Harry mused. He was already liked by whatever Thanatos and Fate were in that case.
"So… what now?" Harry asked, subconsciously reaching out for the prophecy again.
The prophecy glowed brightly as his palm touched it, and then disappeared a moment later, leaving Harry feeling as if he'd swallowed a particularly large bite of food.
"What in the bloody hell did I just do?!" He exclaimed as his head snapped over to Aahna, worried he'd done something wrong.
Aahna just shook her head. "She really didn't tell you anything, did she? Typical. Anyway, that's one ability you have now. You can absorb prophecies for a quick power boost, modify or delete prophecies, give people good or bad luck, change their futures, manipulate probability, make people into Seers, give prophecies yourself, and see into the future."
Harry's jaw dropped open at that, his brain overloaded by the sheer amount of power he'd just gotten.
"I can… really do all that?" Harry whispered, feeling slightly scared of his own strength.
Aahna shrugged. "Probably more than that, to be honest, but those are just things I can remember off the top of my head. OH! You're also immune to any kind of fate manipulation, via things like Time Turners, and so on. You can also just create futures if I remember correctly."
Harry blinked. "Can I make a future where I never have to fight Voldemort?"
Aahna nodded. "Sure, but be careful. If you're not specific, you'll make a future where everyone but you fights him, or where you get captured or killed, thus never fighting him. You have to be careful when changing the future."
Harry shivered violently at that, something deep in his soul knowing she was being honest. He vowed to stay far away from any kind of future manipulation.
"Oh, and be careful telling people things," Aahna told him as they left the Hall of Mysteries. "If you say something like 'You'll be Minister for Magic!' then that person will become Minister for Magic unless you retract your word."
"I think I'll just go mute," Harry muttered. He not only needed to be careful because of Voice of Command, but also because he could alter someone's future?!
Aahna smirked a little. "You're just inexperienced. Trust me, by the time you're 17, you and Luna will be perfect with those powers."
"Speaking of," Harry suddenly said. "When is she going to Awaken them? What does she have to even do?"
"When she feels ready," Aahna replied. "The powers of Life and Death are greater than every other Spirit put together, as they all come from us. If she rushes, she might hurt herself. Which also, once you accept the Death Mark, be prepared to be knocked on your bum for a week or two."
"Wait, why?!" Harry suddenly exclaimed, feeling worried.
"Because you're going to accept half the power of the strongest entity in existence," Aahna told him. "Life and Death are two parts of the same whole. Accepting that power would require a huge recalibration of your magic due to its sheer potency."
Harry went silent as they exited the Department of Mysteries the way they came, through one of the lights.
"Oh, and to answer your second question," Aahna suddenly said. "Luna doesn't have to do much, just tame a phoenix and a dragon together."
"She WHAT?!"
–
Albus shuffled through his safehouse in the dead of night, all of the blinds pulled tightly and doors locked.
"Fawkes…" He whispered, hoping the majestic bird would hear him. "Fawkes, I need–"
Dumbledore suddenly screamed, falling to his knees as a powerful migraine hit him.
"You bloody old… man…" Dumbledore's voice snarled, sounding strained and tired.
Albus tried to cast a spell, but his muscles wouldn't listen to him as he spasmed, pain coursing through his veins.
"I– need–" Albus choked, fighting against himself to cast a spell.
He thrashed again, dropping his wand with a clatter as he was dragged into his own mind again.
"I'm going to kill you," Dumbledore hissed angrily, voice now stronger.
Albus fought against the control with everything he had, but he felt himself quickly grow weaker. His magic wasn't his own anymore; it hadn't been for years, decades even.
"F–FAWKES!" Albus roared with his little remaining might, putting all of the magic he had into the scream.
The dark night erupted into a blossom of magical flames as Fawkes flashed in, flapping his wings with a soft thrill.
Dumbledore hissed in pain as Fawkes sang another note, but his body forcibly relaxed thanks to the bird's magic.
Albus's breath was shallow and shaky, and he weakly reached out to the bird.
"Fawkes…" He whispered, using wandless magic to push the Elder Wand towards Fawkes.
Fawkes squawked loudly and jumped onto a nearby table, shaking his head.
"Fawkes… please…" Albus pleaded desperately. "I only… I can't… I can't s–stop… m-myself."
The phoenix looked tentatively at the wand, something which was essentially a walking embodiment of blood and battle itself, a tainted and impure version of death.
Contrary to popular belief, phoenixes weren't signs of life, but rather rebirth, of the interconnected threads of life and death, and of the cycle of magic. They didn't detest death; they detested unnatural death.
Dumbledore thrashed again and screamed, slowly regaining control and crawling towards the wand.
Fawkes shrieked, making Dumbledore yell in pain as pure light magic tore into his soul.
The phoenix flew down and grabbed the wand, making a gagging sound as its talon wrapped around the yew wood.
"NO!" Dumbledore roared as Fawkes made to fly away, leaping up and reaching.
He grabbed Fawkes by the wing and roared, hitting the bird in the chest.
Fawkes squawked loudly as it hit the ground, a dull cracking sound coming through the air as its wing snapped.
Dumbledore roared again, but Fawkes released a powerful burst of song, making the wizard collapse in pain.
Fawkes stumbled back, barely grasping the wand, and prepared to take off.
"Go… please…" Albus pleaded, voice hoarse and weak. "D-Don't worry about me… old friend… just go."
Fawkes sang a final somber, wobbly note and nodded, jumping high and disappearing in a flash of fire.
Albus collapsed soon after, being dragged into the dark corners of his mind again by his own hand, but he didn't try to fight it.
'You… You lost,' Albus smiled weakly as magical chains wrapped around his wrists and ankles. 'You don't have the Deathstick anymore.'
What many didn't know about the Elder Wand was that it didn't simply enhance one's magic to absurd levels, but it twisted one's magic into something else.
Wizarding magic was enhanced by powerful emotions, particularly love, rage, and hate. Love gave the most powerful amp, but also made a person more emotionally rational and less likely to fight randomly; thus, the Elder Wand only enhanced rage and hate.
At first, it was fine. Dumbledore's Occlumency was among the best in the world, strong enough to suggest even Voldemort's probes like they were flies, so the corruption was safely locked away.
The stress of running so many high-level jobs at once cracked his Occlumency, but Fawkes' presence and Albus never tapping into the amp the Elder Wand provided, but rather using his own magic, kept the corruption in check.
But as the years passed, the corruption began seeping into his mind, twisting Albus' thoughts until the rage became part of him, until it became him.
It influenced him more than most, Albus theorized, because of his awful past. His old ideals of the original 'Greater Good,' of his old alliance with Grindlewald, of his search for the Deathly Hallows, all proved to him that he was never meant to hold power.
During Voldemort's first reign of terror, Albus was forced to tap into the Elder Wand's dark power as the Order of the Phoenix came under attack.
The battle was won, but Dumbledore could feel the corruption slowly seeping into his heart. He'd let himself use the Elder Wand's power.
From there, Dumbledore was forced to use more and more power as Voldemort became stronger, as Albus was thrust into the position of a pillar of strength and forced to be this symbol of protection.
The Elder Wand corrupted him more and more, twisting his thoughts and morals.
Fawkes's presence and his Occlumency allowed him to keep his mind, but that only meant he was forced to watch as he became something he wasn't, something he loathed.
He barred the Order from using lethal force, terrified that if he saw his followers use it, he wouldn't be able to stop himself from using it too, and he'd lose the battle within himself.
Albus was right.
Mad-Eye had killed a Death Eater in front of him. Granted, it was self-defense, and Mad-Eye didn't have a choice, but that didn't matter anymore.
The allure of power became too great, too much for Albus' mind, and it finally cracked.
Dumbledore began using stronger magic against the Death Eaters, hitting them harder, injuring them more, casting faster and more relentlessly.
The public didn't care, nor did the Order. He was becoming more and more of a symbol of power, which is what they wanted. Who cared if their symbol was suffering, as long as it was powerful?
His motto of 'the Greater Good,' originally a way to remind himself not to fall back into his old ways, became the motto of his followers and a hypocritical gesture for a better future.
He had managed to split his mind in two using an advanced Occlumency technique he'd learned while trying to investigate Voldemort's past and the Dark Arts. It was supposed to be used to make a Horcrux and keep the two halves linked together, but Dumbledore took it further.
He completely split his mind in two, neither able to influence the other. A pure good side, of what he believed he should be, and a pure dark side, of what he'd become.
But the more he used the Deathstick, the more he used this vile essence of war, the more Dumbledore's darkness overtook his mind, the more he became just the other side of Voldemort's coin, nothing more than someone playing pretend.
It was a drug, cripplingly addicting and irresitable. He tried other wands, probably went through hundreds of them with Ollivander, but it wasn't enough. He needed the Elder Wand, he needed the power.
And now he was here, broken and alone with his darkness. But there was a part of him that remained strong, a small sliver of light that still shined through; a part that Albus hoped was the real him, the true Albus Dumbledore.
Albus's vision went dark as consciousness slipped away from him like silk in his fingers, but if one were to look close, then one would see a tiny smile.
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Author's Note: And that's the chapter! Pretty short, I know, but I like it.
Death Eaters are on the move again! For those of you wondering, they're just low-rankers, nobody important. Voldie apparently had a bunch of them during his last reign, so a few dozen once he comes back should be reasonable.
Harry has now accepted one of his two Marks! The Mark of Fate grants him all those powers Aahna mentioned, along with just plain up fate manipulation and other busted abilities, but for those wondering, he's not going to be using those in combat for a while, and definitely not on a major scale. He's still a kid, he doesn't have the experience to do that.
Not sure when Luna and Harry are going to accept their main Marks, but I do have a question. Mage Sight is technically already a gift from magic, so what if Magic itself had Marked Luna too? Kind of a two-and-two type of deal with her and Harry? Not certain on it, but it could be cool, though it would open the door to them being a bit too OP for my taste. Tell me what you think.
Dumbledore, meanwhile, continues his struggle. I wonder how many guessed that his whole thing was against himself?
For those confused, Dumbledore was gray before the Elder Wand, but aiming to be light and to be good. But the Elder Wand slowly corrupted him, turning him from gray to dark, while twisting him to believe himself to still be good, all due to Thanatos' curse from chapter 14.
But Dumbledore, being the Occlumency master that he is and having a phoenix Familiar, managed to split his mind in two and preserve his 'original' self inside his own mind. But the power of the Elder Wand still corrupted him until he had basically two personalities.
I'm trying to mix the canon's 'good-intentioned and ultimately good person with a LOT of mistakes' Dumbledore to the story's 'gray on a good day, covered in blood on a bad one' Dumbledore, and I think I'm doing a decent job.
Anyway, that's all. I hope you enjoyed the chapter and I'll see you in the next one!