Amarantha's gem

CHAPTER 2:

Once, as Malcolm, he had discovered every single secret passage there was to Hogwarts with the marauders. He had been a Gryffindor, and his ability of parseltongue had been stripped from him in most lives. Thus, in most of his lives, he never accessed the chamber of secrets again. Regardless, he knew all the shortcuts that even the marauders map did not show him.

He hadn't done so alone. Malcolm had altered the lives of the marauders by simply existing. Malcolm was friends with Regulus Black, and had a relationship similar to James and Sirius. Where one was, the other was sure to follow. Regardless of the fact that both were from different houses, Malcolm and Regulus were an inseparable duo— until Walburga had demanded her youngest son become a death eater. 

Evidently, Regulus was one of the reasons why he pursued his own greed. Regulus had been the one to teach him etiquette, the politics of Slytherin, that being greedy didn't always mean you were a bad person. Malcolm often spoke of how it was Regulus who made his life better than before.

Malcolm had been heart broken, but never gave up on Regulus, even when Sirius had condemned his own little brother. But he had failed. Regulus had tracked down the locket and died trying to take it. Malcolm had realized this when Kreacher came to him, sobbing as he presented the Slytherin's locket.

Kreacher had come during a small gathering between the marauders, sans Peter. Sirius had nearly killed the elf, until it had sobbed of Regulus' dying wish. Sirius had paled, watching as Malcolm took the locket from him. The youngest Potter had looked absolutely murderous, storming towards the Potter Manor's ritual room, and threw the locket to the floor.

The spell 'Fiendfyre' had left his lips, as the locket was burned. After that, Malcolm had rightfully broken down, sobbing of how he lost his best friend and brother. The rest of the marauders were speechless as they watched the locket burn and Malcolm wail. A few weeks after that, they held a funeral for Regulus, Malcolm being the last to leave. There hasn't even been a body. They buried nothing but one of the few prized possessions Regulus would have never given away.

His bond with Sirius had been damaged after that. Sirius who was regretful and guilty, Malcolm who had been bitter and furious. It was a known fact that Malcolm had greatly favored and cared for Regulus, knowing that the boy's best friend was now gone had come as a shock.

Regardless, Malcolm still died 7 years after his best friend, promising that he would greet Regulus for Sirius. Although he had always thought he could never fulfill such a promise, Malcolm became Arcturus. Once Regulus was born, Harry's third life had smiled and said hello to his previous life's best friend.

Harry groaned quietly, hands in his pockets as he moved towards the sounds of wailing and sobs. Moaning Myrtle's bathroom had been a place he once frequented due to its historical connection, quite unfortunate. The second floor's girls' lavatory had been abandoned for 50 years after a ghost had decided to haunt it after their death. The ghost in question?

"Oh Miss Warren~" he called out to her in a sing-song tone. "Are you there?" He asked, as if ignorant to the ghost.

As expected, Myrtle exited the stall she had been crying in. Seeing Harry, she immediately brightened, remembering the charming boy that had come to visit her the year before. Harry smiled pleasantly at her, waving at the ghost as she squealed in delight. He chuckled as Myrtle flew loops around the bathroom, amused at the mere excitement the ghost felt. 

How pitiful.

"You've come to visit me! No one has ever wanted to visit me." Myrtle sobbed in joy, moving towards Harry. "Whatever do you need? Do you need to speak to someone? I'll promise to listen!" 

Harry only shook his head, but smiled regardless of her insistence. "I only need you to keep quiet about this. I'll be doing very… bad things. Surely, I would get in trouble if anyone were to find out what I've done. Could you keep quiet?" He asked, noticing the uncertainty in her expression.

He quickly added, "It'll be our little secret. No one but us will know." He offered his pinky finger, as if to make a promise with the ghost.

Myrtle gasped, excited as she nodded. They pretended to lock their fingers together, a false promise between the living and the dead. Harry smiled, "Thank you ever so much Miss Warren. I couldn't possibly trust my friends with this, they'll just tattle! But you? You're mighty kind." 

An adoring look morphed on Myrtle's expression, as Harry took a few steps back until his hand hit the edge of a certain sink. He smiled, winking at myrtle.

Open.§

Myrtle gasped, a bit frightened as the sink moved. Harry only turned to her with a friendly look. "I wanna explore Hogwarts. I have to be brave and check this out as well, right? I'm Gryffindor after all." 

"Oh! How brave." Myrtle fawned, as Harry summoned stairs. He spared the ghost one last look, before walking down the stairs. His friendly expression immediately turned blank, then he scowled. Coming so close in contact with such an obsessive and naive ghost was both a nuisance and convenient. 

Among the ghosts of Hogwarts, Myrtle Warren was one of the most gullible. It only took a few sugary words and acts of kindness for her to do anything as others said. But you had to indulge her frequently to take her loyalty. It might be a hassle, but Harry was capable of doing so for the rest of the month until it was summer break. He didn't need Myrtle telling other teachers of his activities. She needed to be absolutely loyal to him, to the point she would devote the rest of her afterlife to him. 

Harry was quiet as he went down to the chamber. He hummed as he saw the state of it. The entire chamber had the same rotting smell Harry was familiar with, causing him to snarl. He whipped out his wand and began to simultaneously clean the place while also observing the rotting corpse of the basilisk. It had already been a year, yet there was still some flesh and muscles remaining in the corpse.

Narrowing his eyes towards it, he couldn't help but murmur several complaints upon the corpse. He took a closer step, twirling his wand like a baton. The corpse wasn't in bad shape. Its teeth and bones were still intact, but the issue was the remaining muscular tissue hanging off the bones. Harry snarled, waving his wand in an aggressive manner.

" Fiendfyre! " He yelled, as the flames began to devour the flesh. He carefully maneuvered the fire to only burn the flesh, not damage the bones. What he needed were the bones. "That's good enough."

The basilisk was nothing but bones now. Harry wore a satisfied smile, inspecting the Basilisk bones. The bones and flesh together would have given him a hefty fortune. But the bones still had its uses even before they could be sold. 

"Well this is gonna take long." Harry groaned, running a hand through his hair. 

Some bones were slightly burned, blackened by the flames of his spell. Although it might not seem much, it would prove more of a nuisance to Harry than anyone else. The constant urge to just grab the skeleton and rip its pieces was there, as his annoyance raised and fell. Inconveniences like this were never welcome to him, not after he began his third life and moved on to the next. Him waking up as Arcturus had allowed the Black madness to seep into his soul, making his anger unstable and unpredictable.

"Tsk, I should have made a spell more efficient than Fiendfyre." He clicked his tongue, shoving his wand into his pocket. Hand raised, he closed his eyes and focused on the lingering remnants of the Basilisk's soul.

He found a dark mass trapped within the skeleton, a smile creeping up his face. Opening his eyes, he revealed vivid green eyes reflecting the killing curse, an insidious smirk on his face.

There she is. Rise from the dead, dearest Amarantha.§

The black mass reacted immediately to his alluring voice. Although it was still the voice of a child, a bit high pitched and none too similar to what he once sounded like. The soul still reacted, feeling the power within him as the black mass moved towards his outstretched hand. He grinned, cradling the mass in his arms. He cooed at the wandering soul, eyes glinting.

Forgive me for having slayed you my dear, it seems I woke up too late. No matter, you will continue to serve me diligently, correct?§ Harry apologized, the darkened soul forming into a ribbon like form, coiling around his arm. He felt satisfied with that. 

It has been long since he last held the Basilisk in his arms. Timelines were fickle, and with Amarantha's reaction to him, at least one of his previous incarnations were part of the timeline he now existed in. That was an issue with Harry's reincarnation. Some incarnations of his could exist in the same timeline, the same universe, so long as they never directly interacted. Incarnations being the ones possessed by his current soul, and not variant selves.

I promise to restore you to your glory soon enough. I just need some time… and a certain someone's blood.§ He hummed, caressing the black mass. §You will be patient, right?§

The mass coiled tighter around his arm. §Yes… my lord.§

Very good. Placing you here was a good idea after all. My father must be sulking now because of it.§ Harry smirked. The mass— wraith Harry would have preferred to call now, seemed to shake as if laughed with him. He couldn't help but coo at it. "Good girl." He spoke in English, waving his hands as the wraith floated over his hand.

The wraith coiled and flinched, before slowly pressured into a smaller and smaller size. The wraith grew darker as it grew smaller and a dark green gem landed on Harry's palm. The wraith trapped within it, humming softly as he raised it up.

"It won't take long till I get that bastard's blood. Honestly now, I envy him for actually being related to father and elder brother."

Harry exited the chamber with a green gem in hand, walking up the stairs to Myrtle Loyally guarding the lavatory. He smirked, before dawning a look of gratitude towards the ghost. "Myrtle! You actually stood guard." He exclaimed with a surprised tone.

Myrtle turned towards him with a beaming smile. "Of course! Why wouldn't I?"

Harry scratched the back of his head. "Well… I never expected for you to be so considerate… my friends have often told me after all." He murmured. It wasn't particularly a lie. Hermione had tattled to a teacher in their first year and many of those he trusted had stabbed in the back by telling others of his actions. In his first life they were somewhat a nuisance with how Dumbledore easily manipulated them— but who was he to blame ignorant children when he was one himself?

Myrtle gasped, "Oh no! What horrible people they are!"

"Oh! Oh no. They're wonderful, really they are, but sometimes… sometimes they think what they're doing is best for me. You can say they can be rather controlling at times." He chuckled nervously, avoiding eye contact with Myrtle. The illusion was set and anyone who could see him would have thought he had overbearing friends. Which he sometimes did; in the form of Hermione Granger. "They're good friends…" 

"Well— I don't think they are! They should respect your decisions and privacy." Myrtle huffed, crossing her arms. Her voice sounded quite violent and aggressive as she spoke. After all, Myrtle Warren was a victim of severe bullying when she had been at school and died simply because she was a muggleborn. Knowing that someone was being bothered in a similar manner of bullying caused her to recoil and burst in anger. 

This was one of the few reasons why Harry had decided that Myrtle and Peeves were his favorite of Hogwarts ghosts. Myrtle was naive due to her immense empathy and sympathy and Peeves was a wondrous troublemaker that would bring amusement to him.

"Well… thank you Myrtle." He gently thanked her. "To be honest, I had planned to make the chamber my own little place. Being around others is quite suffocating and…"

"Oh! I understand that completely. When I was still a student, I'd come here for some time away from Olive Hornby." She explained. "I promise to keep this a secret." 

"That's comforting. Look on the bright side! Every Time I have to go to the chamber, I'll see you." He chuckled, grinning at her. "It's nice to see that I have a friend who understands." 

The ghost faltered, before crying out tears of joy. This was Myrtle Warren's biggest weakness. She was a friendless child when she had been alive and now was a ghost disliked by the majority of the students. She was vulnerable to kindness and becoming someone's friend was a blessing.

"See you later Myrtle!"

"See you Harry!" 

Harry left the lavatory, rubbing his thumb against the green gem. He felt satisfied with Myrtle's enthusiasm and eagerness towards him. Ghosts were especially useful to him after all.

"Mate, where've you been?" Ron yelled. He looked quite agitated, having searched for Harry for a few hours now. "You've made Hermione so worried! You should've told us you'd be busy, we would have understood and— and— have you ever eaten? You still look like skin and bone. Dear Merlin." Ron grumbled.

Harry smiled, nodding as Ron nagged at him. The two moved efficiently as Harry took the lead. Ron did not notice when he was being guided. Harry was quite glad with his ignorance, moving towards the great hall. It was already lunch by the time Harry had left the chamber, Amarantha's gem now hanging on a chain around his neck. He hid it beneath his uniform, comforted by the presence of the basilisk.

"Oh! Harry. Ron's finally found you." Hermione smiled, patting the seat beside her. Harry quietly sat beside Hermione, as Ron sat opposite to them. She had a book opened as she ate, glancing towards him in slight concern but continued to smile.

"Harry, mate, here's some chicken. And some bacon. And some—"

"Oh for god's sake, Ronald that's too much!" Hermione exclaimed, frowning at the growing pile of food that Ron was stacking on Harry's plate. The redhead only hissed.

"You're beginning to sound like my mother." Ron retorted, but continued on to pick out food for Harry.

Harry found it funny. Ron insisted that it was Hermione who was acting like Mrs. Weasley, when in fact it was Ron. It was like how Harry remembered it. Ron was the one who constantly mothered him when they had been children, and Hermione was the strict fatherly figure in the group. He was obviously the child who had to deal with his parents bickering.

"No worries 'mione. Ron's only worried. Unfortunately I ended up forgetting about breakfast." Harry admitted as he bit at the bacon on his plate. He was not surprised when Ron slammed his hand on the table.

"Harry James Potter!" Indeed, Ron sounded like his mother. "Do. Not. Skip. Breakfast! It's the most important meal of the day. Do you wanna starve for the rest of the day?"

"And you say I sound like your mother." Hermione rolled her eyes, but narrowed her eyes at Harry. She looked a bit disappointed in him, shaking her head. "But I agree with Ron. Exams are coming up Harry! How are you going to study with an empty stomach?" 

"And, are you even getting enough sleep?!" Ron screeched, pointing towards the dark circles under Harry's eyes. 

A laugh erupted from his lips, startling his friends. Harry was absolutely happy to see his friends again. He had been greedy, wanting and wishing he could see them but he could not satisfy such a desire. After being Orpheus, he hadn't been able to see his friends in a long time. He was content with seeing them act like his parental figures again.

"Thank you." He whispered. "I didn't get much sleep last night. It's been a bit hot in the dorms." 

"Oh… that's understandable. Someone has said that Neville was snoring so loudly that it could be heard from the common rooms." Hermione commented. 

Harry and Ron immediately met eyes, the dark haired boy smirking. Ron's face became as red as his hair, looking away in embarrassment. 

"Ah yes… Neville definitely was the one who kept snoring." Harry snickered, leisurely eating his food.

Hermione hummed, staring at him. "Your etiquette seems to have improved." 

Harry stiffened. He looked down to the knife and fork he was holding, gulping as he realized what Hermione was right. Perfect etiquette had been engrained to his soul after numerous lessons regarding such subjects. It was impossible to get rid of a habit that had stayed with him in multiple lives. But he was Harry Potter again. The boy who had been raised in a muggle household and taught a smidgen of etiquette, both wizarding and muggle. It was an issue. Another inconvenience that grated at his patience.

"Oh… weird… maybe it's my tiredness. I ended up dreaming about some sort of aristocrat fantasy version of us. Dumbledore was a king in the dream, 'Mione was a scholar, and Ron was part of a Baron family." He joked, excitedly explaining his dream.

Hermione immediately perked up at the mention of aristocrat fantasy. It was some sort of genre in muggle fiction. "Is that so? What about you?" 

Harry hummed, "I ended being from a fallen Marquis household. Malfoy was… unfortunately, a Duke family. You-know-who was also in the dream. He was the king of the enemy kingdom that Malfoy was part of." 

"That is actually rather interesting. Go on." Hermione admitted, eagerly listening as she bit at the bread on her plate. Harry couldn't help but smirk.

The capability to create elaborate stories was something he had gained in one of his lives. "Well, my family is considered a fallen family because I am the last member. Mom's family is a Baron family and my relatives wanted to extort me for my fortune! But eventually, I get saved by a bunch of knights who bring me to the king, Dumbledore." 

"Mate, it's like you're the damsel in distress." Ron bluntly stated. He yelped when Hermione smacked his face with a book. The bookworm looked utterly offended, glaring at Ron before she urged Harry to continue. Poor Ron was nursing his bruised cheek.

Harry chuckled, indulging Hermione in his own plot. He had once enjoyed story telling, especially when he had been Arcturus. Creating stories to indulge Dorea's curiosity and creativity. At least a quarter of those stories he had made were of Dorea being the main character, the hero who won the battle against destiny. Some stories were of his first life, altered in a manner that would sound unbelievable— not that he needed to do much with the altercations. 

Hermione was absolutely dazzled, gushing on how she had read numerous regency books. Mostly romance, but regency regardless. They were novels, fiction, but the thought of herself being part of such a world made her melt. Harry understood her sentiment. Fiction often sounded better than reality itself. He had been desperate for an escape once, and drowned himself in books until he began calling a library home. 

"Wait so— Dumbledore tells you you're the chosen one because of a bloody prophecy? That sounds like a load of rubbish!" Ron scoffed. He wouldn't admit it, but he ended up becoming invested in the story when it was mentioned that Ron ended up becoming a knight.

"Well… it would be logical…" Hermione grumbled. "But prophecies can be interpreted in many ways. Who's to say that it was you who was spoken to in the prophecy? Maybe the evil king the prophecy mentioned wasn't You-know-who but someone else in the future." She tried to reason, looking utterly annoyed. "With how complicated and illogical prophecies can be, I am forever grateful to have dropped Divination." 

"Yes, about that— I might drop divination for Ancient runes." Harry commented, surprising his friends. Hermione looked delighted, while Ron was frowning.

"Why? I don't want to give up Divination…" Ron mumbled.

Harry frowned, but shook his head and grabbed Ron's shoulder. "Ron, mate, you don't have to give up Divination. Actually, you're bloody brilliant at it!" He encouraged him. He wasn't actually lying. Ron did have a talent.

"I am?"

"He is?"

Harry shook his head, exasperated of the two. "Yes, you are! Remember when you made the prediction of me suffering but I'm gonna be happy about it?" Ron flinched. Now that Harry's thought about it— Ron genuinely did have a knack for divination that somewhat frightened him. "Well, I am happy… but because Sirius is still on the run… I'm…" 

"Suffering." Ron realized, gasping. "Merlin's pants, I predicted the future! It was vague, but I did it!" 

Hermione only hummed, but she looked proud. Although she may hate Divination with a passion, she was glad to see her friend so happy to accel at it. She was also happy with how Harry was pursuing more difficult subjects.

"I'm gonna buy you a bunch of tarot cards on Christmas." Harry jokingly said, to which Ron blushed. Hermione chuckled, nodding in agreement. "You better be predicting our futures. Who knows, maybe I'll get myself a girlfriend and you'll get a vision of how we're not compatible." 

Hermione grinned, "Maybe not relationship advice, but you might be able to help… just a bit." She pressed her index finger and thumb together, teasingly smiling at Ron. "But you'll have to help yourself with that before you start giving us advice."

"I agree with 'Mione." 

Ron pouted, dramatically huffing and looking away. "What nice friends I have." He sarcastically said, but his eyes showed a deep fondness.

Warmth spread across Harry as she watched the two bicker and tease each other. It had been years, centuries perhaps since the last he's seen them like this. But Harry was indeed greedy, and had focused on himself more rather than his own friends. He watched them in their natural element, feeling his selfishness once again acting up. He wanted everything to stay the same, to do nothing and watch the world burn as he spent the rest of his life having fun with his friends. But he couldn't.

Vivid green eyes met soft baby-blue eyes, a twinkle behind those half-moon spectacles. A gaze all too familiar to him. He smiled, waving at the headmaster who waved back.

Manipulative bastard. He thought as he kept the smile on his face, making sure not to look directly at the headmaster. His mind wasn't somewhere people could just waltz in to.

He was Harry Potter again after all.

Notes:

Incarnations - this is what the lives of Harry Potter are referred to. They are different people but have the exact same soul in their bodies.

Variants - different version of people(Harry Potter). Not to be confused with incarnations. Their souls are slightly different from one another.

If you have trouble differentiating Incarnation from Variants take this as an example. Malcolm is an incarnation, while the Harry Potter of his universe, his nephew, is a variant. Another example, Orpheus is an incarnation, while his god brother is a variant.

See the difference? Incarnation is the lives of Harry Potter while Variant is different versions of Harry Potter. I hope this helps!

Although I do guess that marvel fans reading this will immediately understand what a variant is. It's almost exactly the same as Marvel when it comes to Variants, but with slightly different elements to it. 

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