Chapter 17

"Dark Lord?" Daphne whispered, her eyes wide.

"Yes, after years of people trying to paint me as one, I finally embraced the mantle of Dark Lord," he replied, still holding her gently in his arms.

"Why?" she asked softly, her eyes moistening again.

"Revenge, anger, hate..." he murmured. "What would you have done in my place?"

"K-Kill him." she replied, choking back a sob.

"I won't attempt to defend myself or justify my actions, Daph," Harry said resignedly. "I became a Dark Lord, and I did it knowingly and with purpose. I snapped, and all I cared about was my revenge, damn the consequences. Of course, being a Dark Lord is nothing more than having a fancy title that gives you power over the masses."

To Harry's relief, his declaration didn't seem to immediately repulse Daphne.

"I know," she replied calmly. "I know it's just a title, and you already told me you were at war. I'm not naïve, Harry. I know that they already considered you a Dark Lord, but I'll admit that hearing you say that you actually became one is…"

"I had a choice," Harry explained, his eyes closed as he felt the blood pulse in his ears to the rhythm of his nervously beating heart. He was sure that he was standing on the precipice of a defining moment in his relationship with Daphne. If she still accepted him after learning of his deeds as a Dark Lord, then his dream would still be alive and well. If not…well, he'd prefer not to think about that.

He took a deep breath and continued.

"I could have chosen the right path and continued to slowly undermine the Longbottoms and rally support for our cause. I could have stuck to our principles and still held the moral high ground in our victory. In my anger, I chose the easier path, the more satisfying path, but I don't regret it. All my fears and regrets died the moment my...our daughter was struck down, and I just didn't care anymore."

"What happened next?" Daphne asked softly.

"That same night, in front of my friends, followers, and the body of our daughter, I executed the captured Paladins in cold blood, mostly to send a message to their masters," Harry revealed. "It was at that moment, when I saw the horror and the fear on everyone's faces, that I knew what I had to do. I fully embraced the darkness, and by doing it, I ended the war in a matter of a few weeks."

"What... what did you do to them?"

"Like I said, I killed the Paladins."

"You alone?" she asked, and Harry nodded. "How?"

Harry pulled another strand of memory from his temple and placed it in the Pensieve.

"It's not something I can properly describe," he replied, offering Daphne his hand. For the first time that night, Daphne ignored the hand and went into the Pensieve by herself. Sighing, Harry followed after her.

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Several people were milling around the grounds of Nott Manor, which was heavily damaged and still smouldering in places. Tracey, Theo, Blaise, and Millie were all gathered around Harry, not a single dry eye between them. Their children weren't present, having been successfully evacuated earlier. Professor Flitwick was there, standing off to the side and solemnly conversing with Hannah Callen and her husband Justin. Astoria was on her knees and openly weeping next to a small bundle wrapped in a black cloak. Jason Hallys was kneeling beside Astoria with his head bowed in sorrow, his arm wrapped around her in support.

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Daphne felt like she'd been stabbed in the heart. Her eyes started welling up again as she caught sight of the little black bundle that was her daughter's body. She came closer to memory Harry, who was kneeling opposite Astoria and mumbling over Daphy's mortal remains.

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"I'm sorry, Daphy. I'm sorry Daph. I'm sorry. Please forgive me, I'm so, so sorry."

"Why?" wailed Astoria, as Jason pulled her closer to him.

"I don't know, Tori," Jason whispered, and Astoria buried her face in Jason's chest and continued to sob.

"Harry..."

Theo's call to him elicited no reaction.

"Harry, we have to go before the Paladins send reinforcements. You have to take Daphy's body away."

"No..." mumbled Harry.

"We'll deal with the prisoners," Theo insisted. He didn't notice how Harry had gone stiff at the mention of the other Paladins.

"We'll incapacitate them, as usual, and make sure they won't be a threat in the future, but we're running out of time. You must go now. We'll meet up..."

He never got a chance to finish, because memory Harry stood up from his position next to Daphy's body and started briskly walking in the direction of where the prisoners were being kept.

"What the... Harry?" Theo called anxiously, realising where memory Harry was heading. He and the others quickly moved to follow him.

Memory Harry reached the group of over two dozen captured Paladins. They had been relieved of their masks and wands, and they were sitting on the ground, being held at wandpoint by Harry's comrades. The majority of them were carrying some degree of injury from the battle.

"You dark bastards, give me back my wand," a familiar voice called out. Memory Harry immediately recognised it and walked directly towards the source.

"Weasley," he snarled, and the redhead turned to him at once.

"Potter, you dark wizard scum! You and yours should do yourselves a favour and surrender now. I can guarantee that you'll be given a fair trial, which is more than you deserve," Weasley taunted, rising to his feet.

"It's a shame that Neville failed to kill you, but I won't. I challenge you to a wizard's duel!"

Memory Harry's reply was a quick punch to the nose, knocking Weasley back down to the ground.

"Denied," he growled, delivering his former friend a swift kick in the ribs.

"Why did you come here?" demanded Harry, drawing his wand. "How did you know?"

"Screw you, Potter," Weasley spat, between gasps.

"WHY?" Harry demanded.

"CRUCIO!"

It had been a long time since Harry had resorted to using an Unforgivable Curse. Still, he showed no hint of hesitation or remorse, his face twisting into an expression of pure loathing as Weasley screamed in pain and curled in on himself.

"Why did you come here? Why did you attack today? What did you want?"

Weasley said nothing in reply, not because he didn't want to, but because he was unable to speak while under the throes of the Cruciatus Curse.

"SPEAK!"

"We discovered that you'd be here!" another Paladin said, hoping to help spare his comrade.

"How?" memory Harry demanded, ending the curse.

"We don't know," he replied, and Harry blasted him in the chest with a spell so powerful that the Paladin was sent flying into the wall behind them. He didn't move after that.

"Please! Lord Oberon didn't tell us how he knew," another Paladin replied, hoping to avoid a similar fate.

"Your Lord Oberon killed my daughter," Harry responded icily, prompting confused looks from the Paladins and even some of his own followers.

"Y-You d-don't-t ha-have a-a-a d-d-d-daughter, P-P-P-Potter," Weasley stuttered from the ground, still trembling from the effects of the Cruciatus.

"Yes, I do, Weasel."

"P-Probab-bly w-with a w-whore," Weasley scoffed, and memory Harry stiffened.

"What did you say?" he demanded, a malicious glint in his eye.

"Pr-Probably w-w-with a w-whore," Weasley repeated, receiving a kick in the face for his efforts.

Memory Harry stood over Weasley with a darkened expression, his magic flaring around him. No one else said a word. With a flick of Harry's wand, Weasley's arms and legs started bending at unnatural angles, the sound of his bones breaking audible even over his screams. Blood started pouring from the open wounds where his shattered bones had torn through flesh and were left exposed. With another wave, what could be seen of Weasley's right leg started to rapidly darken and rot. Next, Harry jabbed his wand, and a sickly yellow liquid erupted from it and drenched the other leg, which immediately began melting into a viscous, bloody goo.

Weasley's tortured screams echoed all around. Many of Harry's friends and followers looked away, feeling sickened by the sight, but none of them spoke or attempted to intervene. Weasley's fellow Paladins begged for mercy, but Harry wasn't done yet. His next curse caused Weasley's already shattered arm to be sliced repeatedly as if it was under assault by a thousand razor-sharp knives, adding to the pool of blood forming under Harry's erstwhile best friend.

"You want a Dark Lord?" memory Harry shouted at the Paladins, his voice filled with pain and anger. He ended his curse and turned his back to them to address his own followers.

"They killed my wife. They killed my daughter... They claim to be the champions of the Light, yet they kidnap and torture indiscriminately, and even attack our families in their homes."

"Do they really want a Dark Lord so badly?" he asked, over Weasley's cries of agony.

"Well, now they have one!"

With one final wave of his wand, numerous spikes erupted from the earth and pierced Weasley's entire body. Now paralysed, he could do nothing but whimper in pain until he finally bled out. Harry looked on in satisfaction as Weasley drew his final breath, and then he turned his attention back to the other Paladins.

"P-Please, mercy," one of them begged, eyes bulging in terror as Harry raised his wand.

"No more," he whispered, as orange flames erupted from the tip.

"NO MORE!"

Fiery serpents, chimaeras, and dragons consumed the screaming Paladins in a matter of seconds, some still feebly begging for mercy until the end. Once they had all been reduced to ash, memory Harry slowly walked back to the small bundle and picked it up lovingly, tears in his eyes. No one else dared to speak; they were still too shocked by what had transpired. Without a word, Harry apparated away with Daphy's body, and the memory ended.

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They were back in the Chamber once again. Daphne turned to look at Harry and saw him looking back at her with a solemn expression, awaiting her judgement.

"So, you killed them..." Daphne said, shivering slightly. "So what? They deserved it."

"Do you really believe that?" Harry questioned, and Daphne narrowed her eyes.

"What does it matter?" she replied tearfully. "They were with Longbottom. They were your enemies, and you were at war. Are you so weak that you need my approval for everything you did?"

"No, I don't, but I want you to understand..."

"I understand more than you think," Daphne interrupted.

"The fact that you believed I wouldn't makes me wonder if you really ever knew me at all. Or maybe you just regret your actions, and deep down, a part of you is hoping I'll condemn you for them."

Harry didn't reply. Was she right? Was he really just seeking absolution after decades of living with the things he had done?

Daphne dried her tears and continued.

"I don't care how it happened, as long as they paid for what they had done. First it was me, and then my baby girl... I don't care what you did, what you became, or what you are now, Harry. I won't let them get away with it, not again. I won't let them hurt me, you, or my baby again. I won't."

"They won't hurt anyone, Daph, least of all you," Harry replied softly. "You know I won't let them."

"Maybe not, but I won't stand around and watch you do everything yourself. I'm a part of this, whether you want me to be or not. You caused this. You told me everything, and now we're in this together. You can either accept me as the partner you claim you wanted, or I walk away, and I will hurt them without your help."

Harry raised an eyebrow in surprise. While Daphne was practically vibrating with anger, a grin was slowly forming on Harry's face. This was the woman he fell in love with all those years ago. She was right, after all, and he was finally seeing things clearly. He never should have doubted her in the first place, nor should he have doubted himself. He took a step towards her.

"Do you really think I would deny you this? You're right, Daphne, I told you that you were my partner in all things, and I meant it."

Daphne's anger deflated, and she covered her face with her hands and started sobbing.

"It's all right, Daph," Harry whispered, embracing her as she buried her face in his neck.

"They died once and they will die again, but I need you to be strong. I need you to be the brave, cunning witch that I know you are, if you want to be by my side when we destroy them."

Daphne nodded silently and Harry held her tighter.

"How did they die?"

"I got to Oberon first, and Titania a few days later," Harry replied.

"How?" she asked again, more forcefully.

"After leaving Daphy's body with yours, I basically went on a killing spree. I started attacking the Paladins in the street, and even some of the regime's more prominent supporters in their own homes, all without giving a single thought to the consequences."

"Idiot," Daphne whispered, but Harry chose to ignore her.

"After several days of constant attacks, I eventually calmed down and regained some sense of rationality, but my spree was not without consequence. I had caused so much fear and panic in such a short period of time, that Oberon called me out in the paper and challenged me to a duel."

"Clearly a trap," mumbled Daphne, and Harry nodded in agreement.

"Obviously. They had become way too full of themselves. That's what made it so easy to reverse their trap back onto them," he explained.

"And how did you do that?" Daphne asked curiously.

"I announced Godric's Hollow as the site of the duel, but only after I'd already had time to prepare my trap. I'd sent my followers there days before to set up some pre-prepared rune clusters, which would allow me to quickly raise my own anti-transportation wards. I also replaced most of the village inhabitants with my own people. By the time their people showed up a couple days before the duel to prepare their trap, mine had already been set."

"You replaced the village inhabitants?" Daphne asked with a raised eyebrow.

"It was easier than you might expect," he shrugged.

"Godric's Hollow was already filled with people who supported our cause. It helped that the Longbottoms' regime had become fairly unpopular with the general populace. As soon as the villagers saw our people coming, they welcomed them with open arms and some even aided them in their mission. Quite a few of them stayed in the village with my followers, either to join in the upcoming fight or help sabotage their traps. When the day of the duel finally arrived, the Paladins had no chance."

"Oberon died," Daphne flatly stated.

"Oberon died," he nodded.

Daphne pointed to the Pensieve, and he knew at once what she wanted.

"Are you sure?"

She just glared at him, and with a chuckle, he grabbed her around her waist and kissed her hard on the mouth.

"Gods, I love seeing that look on your face," he said in a low voice, making Daphne blush. With a grin, Harry withdrew the memory and dropped it into the Pensieve. This time, Daphne took his hand, and they entered it together.

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Memory Harry steadfastly approached the village of Godric's Hollow, walking with a sense of purpose as his black cloak billowed in the wind. The outskirts of the village were calm and devoid of people, but Harry continued on. He stopped a short distance from the village proper, where nearly fifty people clad in robes and armour were waiting for him. Oberon was standing in the centre of his Paladins with his arms crossed, wand in hand.

"Glad to see you showed up, Dark Lord," Longbottom said contemptuously.

Harry said nothing in reply.

"Today, we will finally end this, Potter. You will pay for all the lives you have taken."

"Will I?" Harry asked defiantly. "And how do you intend to do that? By sending your minions against me? It's supposed to be a duel between the two of us, Longbottom, and as you can see," he said, gesturing to the empty space around him, "I did come alone."

Oberon/Longbottom snorted.

"Did you actually believe I'd be stupid enough to face you alone?" he asked, and the Paladins surrounding him chuckled. "It's important to know your limits, Potter. I may be a powerful wizard myself, but I'm well aware that I'm still no match for you, even with my wife's teachings."

"So, you concocted a trap," memory Harry snorted. "How predictable. Tell me, Neville, how long did it take for you and your pathetic generals to come up with this amazing plan?"

"You mock us, and yet here you are, alone and defenceless in the face of our superior numbers," Longbottom replied. "Not even you could stand a chance against us. You cannot escape by portkey or apparition, and we've made sure no reinforcements can reach you. Surrender now, and we will grant you a fair trial."

"That's quite a generous offer," memory Harry replied, calmly drawing his wand. "Allow me to return the favour and offer a counter proposal. Surrender now, and I will let you live."

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"You'll do what?!" Daphne exclaimed, turning sharply towards Harry.

"Just keep watching…" he reassured her.

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The Paladins all laughed.

"Surrender to you?" laughed Longbottom, looking around at his Paladins and inviting them to share the joke.

"Open your eyes, Potter, and see what's around you. You're all alone here. We've raised wards to prevent your escape. You can't call for reinforcements, and should I need them, I have the people of Godric's Hollow on my side. Why would I even consider surrendering to you?"

A smile crept across Harry's face. With an emotionless laugh, he raised his wand above his head, and a white flash illuminated the entire area. At first, it wasn't obvious what had happened. A few seconds later, one of the Paladins looked up and pointed to the sky. Hovering in the air was a large, black emblem depicting two wands crossed over each other in an X.

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"What's that?" Daphne inquired, looking up at the symbol.

"The Black Wands mark. It was essentially my version of the Dark Mark."

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"And what exactly did you hope to accomplish by casting your dark mark, Potter?" demanded Longbottom, but Harry didn't deign to respond.

Once again, the area was lit up by huge flash, and the Paladins suddenly found themselves surrounded. There were dozens of witches and wizards, wands drawn and awaiting the order to attack. Others were carrying swords, axes, or other weapons, some of their wielders looking quite savage. There appeared to be a few giants and trolls scattered about too, and even a few battle-ready centaurs. To add to the Paladins' problems, more wizards filed out of the nearby buildings and blocked their escape. It seemed that Longbottom's assertion that the people of Godric's Hollow were on his side had proven to be incorrect.

The trap had been sprung, and the Paladins were now surrounded and vastly outnumbered. Harry stepped forward to address his enemies, his arms held out wide.

"Allow me to present my army. Our ranks are filled with those who have been wronged by you and your bitch of a wife for all these years. Wizards, witches, werewolves, vampires, giants, trolls, and centaurs, all of them united by a common purpose. We all want your blood!"

The tension was almost palpable, as if the entire area was primed to explode and was just waiting for a spark. Longbottom looked like he was starting to panic. He glanced around at his companions, many of whom were already quailing in the face of the bloodthirsty looks directed at them by Harry's army.

"We surrender!" Longbottom shouted, realising they had no chance.

Everyone turned to look at Harry.

"Do you, now?" he said, a dangerous gleam in his eye.

"Yes, you offered to spare our lives in exchange for our surrender," Longbottom replied, tossing his wand to the ground.

"We surrender to you, Lord Potter."

"Neville, Neville, Neville..." Harry countered, his eyes blazing.

"I lied."

Quicker than anyone could blink, a red jet of light sped from Harry's wand and struck Longbottom in the chest, making him immediately drop to the ground screaming.

"SLAUGHTER THEM ALL!"

The vampires, being the fastest, were the first to leap into the fray, followed closely by the untransformed werewolves. It was an absolute bloodbath, with the Paladins being caught up in a storm of blades, claws, and fangs. The wizards and centaurs provided support from the perimeter, their spells and arrows picking off those who broke free from the cluster. One particularly large giant had picked up a Paladin by his legs and was swinging him like a club to bludgeon the others.

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Daphne was entranced by the cold efficiency of Harry's army - the lethal dance of the vampires, the savagery of the werewolves, and the almost poetic way the various creatures and races worked together to methodically exterminate their enemies. One after another, the Paladins' gold and white uniforms were painted red with blood and gore. She felt her stomach complaining at the sight, but she stood firm and resolutely bore witness to the massacre unfolding in the streets of Godric's Hollow.

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Memory Harry left the bulk of the battle in his followers' capable hands, having eyes only for Longbottom. He was taking his time, employing liberal use of the Cruciatus Curse and other spells that would cause pain, but leave the body mostly intact. While Longbottom was writhing on the ground, Harry sent a Reductor Curse into each of the other man's knees, the impact almost severing his lower legs completely.

Harry took the opportunity to survey the battlefield, but the fight was already over. The vampires were busy gorging themselves on the blood of the fallen, while the others were either tending to their own injuries or wandering around and finishing off their wounded enemies.

Their victory secured, everyone's attention turned back to their Lord's confrontation with the man who once styled himself Lord Oberon. Harry stood over his downed opponent with a stony expression.

"You lose, Longbottom."

"Screw you, Potter. You have no honour."

Harry chuckled darkly.

"Honour?" he spat, sweeping his wand in front of him. A deep gash appeared across Longbottom's chest, making him cry out as blood poured from the wound.

"You dare speak to me about honour?" memory Harry growled. "You, who stand atop the bodies of thousands? Ask them, my Lord Oberon, ask your own victims what honour matters to the dead. While you're at it, ask my wife and daughter if they think I should spare your life."

Fuelled by his anger, Harry's magic swirled around him as if he was standing in the eye of a hurricane.

"I suppose this is the part where I make my victory speech. I guess I'm supposed to gloat about my superiority and my power, the righteousness of my cause...but none of that matters right now."

His features morphed into an expression of pure rage.

"You took my wife and children from me. You will die, simply because I FUCKING HATE YOU!"

Lightning surged from Harry's wand as he cast the Fulminous Curse, cooking Longbottom inside his armour. The man screamed in agony, while Harry's allies wrinkled their noses at the smell of burning flesh permeating the air.

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Daphne stood next to memory Harry with an icy expression, wanting to be as close as possible so she didn't miss a second of Longbottom's final moments. She squeezed real Harry's hand as they both listened to the tortured screams of the man who had helped ruin their lives.

"Go to hell, you son of a bitch," she whispered, and Harry gave her a one-armed squeeze.

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Memory Harry finally dropped the lightning. The only sounds were Longbottom's raspy gasps for breath, as the man no longer had the strength to scream. His skin was blackened and flaking, and his armour and clothes had started to burn. With a twitch of Harry's wand, Longbottom was lifted into the air, his arms and legs stretched to his sides as if he were being drawn and quartered. With another twitch, his clothes were ripped from his body, leaving him completely naked, hanging in mid-air.

There was a massive surge of magic as memory Harry cast his next powerful spell, the result nearly making real Daphne vomit. Every inch of Longbottom's skin was neatly ripped from his body and fell to the ground below him. What was left was a hideous display - a body devoid of skin, dripping with blood, its chest charred and blackened. The gaze from his lidless eyes spoke of unimaginable suffering, yet he did not make a sound, apart from the occasional whimper.

Memory Harry started repeatedly casting the same greenish-grey curse at what was left of Longbottom. At each point of impact, the muscles started to atrophy and turn the same sickly colour as the curse that caused the damage.

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"What's that curse you're casting?" Daphne asked.

"It's a Fast-Rotting Curse," he replied, and Daphne could see that it was aptly named.

"Is it painful?" she asked hopefully, and Harry nodded gravely.

"He would feel the pain of rotting from the inside, his organs shutting down one by one until the curse reaches his heart and he finally dies. So yes, I would say it's quite painful."

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The corruption from the curse was visibly spreading throughout the body. Not one to sit idle, memory Harry cast another volley of Cruciatus Curses at Longbottom, though it had little impact, as he was already dead.

Memory Harry released his spell and let the body hit fall to the ground, ignoring the celebratory cheers of his army and watching the body crumble and rot away in front of him.

"POTTER! POTTER! POTTER! POTTER!" they all chanted, and memory Harry raised his head to address his followers.

"Prepare yourselves! In two hours, we join our brothers and sisters in the march against the Ministry. Let us end this damned war once and for all!" he announced, his gathered army responding with shouts of agreement.

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The memory ended, and the couple left the Pensieve.

"That was disgusting," Daphne whispered, but she had a satisfied look on her face.

Harry shrugged noncommittally, then Daphne reached out and pulled him into a hug.

"Thank you," she said, and he held her tightly without saying a word.

"Where were Theo, Tracey, my sister, and everyone else? What happened with Titania?"

"That wasn't my full army, only a part of it," Harry explained. "The other half was preparing for the assault on the Ministry. The Notts and Astoria were with them, along with the other remaining Black Wands. While Longbottom was a priority for me personally, the Ministry was the top priority for the resistance movement."

"I'm guessing they didn't like you sending them away," Daphne quipped, and Harry rolled his eyes.

"You would be correct, but in the end, they did as I asked them to. The plan worked."

"And quite well, I have to say. But what about Granger?"

"Before we took care of her, we invaded the Ministry and captured everyone who was considered high profile in their regime. Many were executed, and we established a provisional government in less than a day, with a council of humans, werewolves, vampires...everyone in our alliance," Harry told her.

Daphne's eyebrows shot up.

"And everyone just accepted that?" she asked.

"They didn't have a choice. Those who complained quickly learned not to, but there was far less resistance than even I expected. It turned out that a majority of people actually considered us heroes and liberators. After we won, there were celebrations across the country, not just the major spots like Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade. It made all the celebrations after Voldemort's demise seem pale in comparison."

Daphne just shook her head in amazement.

"That afternoon, we were finally able to determine Titania's location. Everyone wanted to go with me, of course, but that just wasn't feasible. In the end, I took half of the army, along with Theo, Tracey, Blaise, Millie, Tori, Jason, Hannah, and Justin. The rest stayed behind to keep the peace and get started cleaning up the Ministry, St. Mungo's, and a few other important locations.

"So, you found her...and?"

"We invaded the new Longbottom estate in force. There were quite a few Paladins stationed there, but they could only put up token resistance against our superior numbers, and we easily took control of the grounds and the manor. In the end, I blasted my way into the library where she was hiding and faced her alone."

"I want to see it," Daphne stated, but Harry had expected she would and was already pulling the memory from his mind. Entering the Pensieve, they found themselves accompanying memory Harry as he marched through the corridors of an opulent manor, his wand in his hand.

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Memory Harry paused in front of a set of large, oaken double doors fashioned with gold hardware. He waved his wand, and the massive doors exploded inwards, allowing him passage into the grand library. He cautiously stepped through the doorway with his wand raised in front of him.

"Come no further!" a shrieking voice commanded. Hermione Longbottom was standing at the far end of the room, her wand out and taking up a defensive posture. She was wearing expensive looking gold and white robes, which did little to hide the swell of her pregnant belly. Interestingly, in her other hand she was holding a strange, leather book, which was attached to her waist by a delicate gold chain.

"You don't get to demand anything from me, bitch," the Dark Lord replied.

"You monster! Reducto!"

Memory Harry easily deflected the curse and countered with a powerful Blasting Curse of his own. An unfamiliar red shield materialised in front of Hermione, and Harry's curse ricocheted off it and demolished a nearby bookshelf. Harry looked surprised by this development. His spell should have been strong enough to break her shield, or at least drive her backwards, but neither she nor the shield seemed to be affected in the slightest.

"I'm a monster? So says the woman responsible for thousands of deaths, among them her own godson, my wife, and my children," Harry growled, and then he lobbed a purple curse towards Titania, who ducked behind another bookcase.

"I told you it was an accident! What happened to Daphne was regrettable..."

"DON'T EVEN DARE!" he shouted, and then he blasted the bookcase into smithereens. Titania's shield remained up, but the blast actually seemed to affect her this time, and she nearly fell backwards. Did the shrapnel from the destroyed bookcase somehow penetrate her shield?

"Teddy was an accident as well!" Hermione shouted, her wand pointing at Harry. "He started to develop werewolf strength and speed. He was our best chance to learn how to cure the disease! It was unfortunate that he died during the lab tests..."

"Unfortunate?!" roared Harry. "Unfortunate? You experimented on our young godson until it killed him, and all you can say is that it was 'unfortunate'? Was my wife's death unfortunate because she drank the potion that was meant for me?"

"Of course! If she hadn't drank it, then she would still be alive. You would have voted for us, and everything would have been fine..."

"You tried to break up my marriage and enslave me over a bloody vote - you aren't innocent in this!"

"Our path was righteous," Hermione snorted. "We intended to bring change to our world, and sometimes sacrifices needed to be made to achieve our goals. Ginny wanted you, so we gave her a way to have you and ensure your cooperation all at the same time. All she had to do was make sure you voted for us, otherwise, we didn't care what you did."

Even through his rage, it was easy to see that memory Harry was baffled by his one-time friend's twisted logic.

"Are you even listening the filth you're spewing? You caused all of this! You and your husband nearly destroyed us and our way of life!"

"We made it better!" she replied angrily. "We brought the Wizarding World into the twenty-first century! We took the power away from the old families and gave a voice to the oppressed, the muggleborns, and those ignored by the old regime."

"And yet, most of them also fight for me against you."

"Traitors, that's what they are. They will be dealt with."

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Daphne was dumbfounded by what she was seeing. It was true that she never liked Hermione Granger. Daphne always thought she was bossy, authoritative, overly opinionated, plus some other less than savoury traits, but this was on another level. This Hermione Longbottom seemed completely unhinged.

"Is she stupid, or was she...I don't even know... I mean, what the hell?" Daphne wondered out loud. Harry snorted, but he didn't take his eyes off the memory.

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"You seem to think you'll be leaving this place alive," snarled Harry, as his spell was again deflected by her shield, the ricochet splitting a nearby shelf in two.

"What is that shield?!"

"Ancient Magic beyond anything you've ever seen, Dark Lord," she replied with a cruel laugh. "You cannot touch me. Surrender now, swear your allegiance to me, and I will let you live."

"Don't be ridiculous," Harry shouted. He proceeded to cast several Blasting Curses in short succession, but instead of targeting Titania, he took aim at her surroundings. His magic may not be able to penetrate her unusual red shield, but she was vulnerable to physical impacts - he had seen how the exploding bookcase had almost knocked her over earlier.

Titania held her ground and focused on her shield, but Harry's tactic proved effective. The wall, the floor, and the shelves around her started exploding, and soon she was knocked off her feet, losing her wand in the process.

Harry summoned her wand from the ground.

"Now I'm going to kill you, you bitch..."

Terrified, Titania looked up at him as he snapped her wand with one hand. With a snarl, she picked up the strange leather book she had bound to her waist and raised it above her head.

"RHASSEL'THOTH, I ORDER YOU TO COME TO MY AID!"

She looked positively feral, her face contorted with anger and hate. Memory Harry steeled himself and started scanning the room with his eyes, not sure what to expect.

————————————

"What is she doing?" Daphne demanded.

"You'll understand soon enough," Harry grimaced, crossing his arms. "I can tell you that she's even more stupid and weak than you believe."

Daphne turned to him and saw that his eyes were glowing again, looking down at the memory of Titania with a look of utmost loathing.

————————————

Memory Harry had apparently determined that whatever last-ditch ploy she was attempting had failed.

"Was something supposed to happen?" he taunted, creeping towards Titania like a predator stalking his prey.

"TRAITOR! TRAITOR! GIVE ME YOUR POWER! COME TO MY AID!" shrieked Titania.

Harry closed in on her and punched her directly in the face, his fist passing through her red shield unimpeded. The book flew out of Titania's hand, and Harry wrapped his hands around her neck.

"Beg..." he whispered as he squeezed, Hermione Longbottom's eyes starting to fill with blood as her capillaries started to burst. Her arms flailed wildly as she tried to force Harry to release her, but he was much too strong for her.

"Please...I'm pregnant," she choked.

"SO WAS DAPHNE!" he screamed, tears pooling in his eyes.

"My child is innocent!"

"SO WERE MINE!"

"Please," she gasped, and the tightness around her neck eased. He slammed her against the floor and stood up, breathing heavily. Titania was gasping for breath and massaging her neck.

"My Daphne - my wife, my life, my heart, my everything...she died because of you and your stupid manipulations," he spoke, nearly in a whisper.

Harry slid his wand into his holster and drew a long hunting knife from his belt. Titania's eyes grew large, and she tried frantically to back away.

"Because of you and your bastard of a husband, she was taken from me, as were our children. Children who Daphne never held in her arms, who she never got to watch grow. You dare beg for your life using your unborn child as an excuse?"

He was now looming over the terrified woman on the floor, his knife gleaming in flickering light.

"I swore I would kill all those responsible, and you're the last one left..." he whispered. "I'm going to enjoy killing you, but fear not - I am not as cruel as you are."

In a flash, Titania was pinned to the ground, held in place by Harry's left hand. Her screams of fear transformed into shrieks of pain as the cold steel ripped through her belly and into her womb.

————————————

Daphne took a few steps backwards. She was absolutely horrified, but too shocked to look away.

"No... No..." she whispered, closing her eyes and vigorously shaking her head, no longer able to watch. She chanced a glance over at real Harry, and she was almost surprised to see that he looked just as disgusted as she felt.

"Why?" Daphne asked him. "Why didn't you just kill her? Why did you have to go that far?"

Ashamed, Harry shook his head. He was obviously repulsed by his own actions. He pointed at something on the ground, but all Daphne could see were some books strewn haphazardly across the floor.

————————————

The screams and sobs slowly were replaced by quiet whimpers.

"There," memory Harry said, "now you can die, having held your son once. That's once more than Daphne ever got, which is more than you deserve, you damn bitch."

Daphne opened her eyes again and saw Titania cradling a tiny baby in her arms, both of them covered in blood and obviously suffering. Harry's arms were soaked with blood up to the elbow, helping hold the baby in place as Titania drew her final breaths.

————————————

Daphne stepped up closer to get a better look at memory Harry, and she was astonished to see that the whites of his eyes had turned an inky black.

"Harry, what's happening?" Daphne asked nervously.

"Something far more insidious than the Imperius Curse, Compulsions, or even possession. Control, through the complete subordination of one's will."

"C-Control? What do you mean?"

"When you magically control someone through spells or potions, what you are essentially doing is overpowering that person's will. The target has no say in the matter; they do as you command, whether they want to or not. This was different. I wanted to kill her. The idea to cut her child from her was mine, or at least that's what I thought. His power...it infected me. He filled me with rage and regret, and he tore through my inhibitions like they were wet paper. There where whispers of encouragement, so subtle that I almost didn't consciously notice them. He pushed me to dispose of Titania in such a gruesome manner, but it felt like it all came from within me."

"W-What?" she asked, clearly not understanding. "What do you mean? Who's he?"

"The piece of soul inhabiting that damned book on the ground," Harry replied, pointing again to the same spot floor. This time, Daphne looked more closely and recognised the book Titania had been holding moments before.

"Wait, a soul? As in a Horcrux?" she asked, and Harry shook his head.

"At first, that's what I thought too, but no. In some ways it's similar to a Horcrux, only far worse, and several times more dangerous."

————————————

Memory Harry lifted his wand, and the outer wall of the library exploded outwards, leaving a gaping hole that flooded the room with the light of the setting sun. Harry approached the hole and looked down onto the grounds. His army was gathered below and looking up in anticipation. With a wave of his wand, the bodies of Titania and her child passed through the hole and hovered in the air.

"MY FRIENDS!" Harry shouted, his voice amplified, "WE HAVE WON!"

The crowd roared in approval and jeered at the bodies floating on display. Then the chants began, chants of victory and the name of their Lord and leader.

"VICTORY!"

"POTTER! POTTER! POTTER! POTTER!"

—————————————

Daphne did a double take, thinking she had seen her sister snogging Jason Hallys near the front of the crowd, but they were too far away to be certain.

—————————————

Harry released his spell, and the bodies fell from the air and splattered on the ground. No one paid them any attention, as they were all too busy celebrating and spreading word of their victory. He took a step back from the hole in the wall and turned to walk away.

"You did well," a raspy voice echoed from all around. Memory Harry stiffened and searched the room for the source of the voice, but there was no one there.

"That worthless witch dared try and command me, but she was weak. She did not have the capacity to understand true power. My power."

"Who's there?" Harry demanded, gripping his wand.

"My name is Rhassel'Thoth, mortal," the amused voice said. "Pharaoh Rhassel'Thoth, archwizard of the two kingdoms, master embalmer, and the creator of what you mortals now call necromancy."

—————————————

Daphne's eyes widened fear. Real Harry was still glaring at the book, but his anger subsided once he noticed Daphne's reaction, and he moved to reassure her.

"Don't be afraid, nothing ended up happening," he said, but Daphne gulped and squeezed his arm. She didn't know how he could've kept so calm.

—————————————

"Where are you?" memory Harry demanded, and the voice responded with a dry chuckle.

"You have seen my vessel with your own eyes, mortal. Seek the tome the foolish woman held as she demanded my power. That is my vessel."

—————————————

Memory Harry did as he was instructed. Daphne examined his eyes again and saw that his irises had now turned a darker shade of green, nearly blending in with his all-black sclerae. Out of all the memories Harry had shown her, this one had concerned Daphne the most, but she chose to take him at his word and trust that nothing else bad would happen.

—————————————

Memory Harry picked up the leather book and examined it closely. It appeared to be ancient, its deep brown leather worn and cracking.

"What is this?" he wondered out loud.

"This is one of my tomes. It is bound in human skin and written in human blood," the voice said. "I created many of such artefacts in my life, and inside each one I left a piece of my essence. The witch and her husband obtained my vessel during a trip to what you now call Egypt. They brought me back here, away from my enemies, where I could become strong once more."

Memory Harry opened the book, and he was surprised to find that he was able to read and understand the hieroglyphs written in the pages. His eyes danced as his mind was instantly flooded with knowledge. He flipped through the pages, somehow comprehending diagrams of rituals and ancient spells so complex and powerful, that modern magic paled in comparison.

It was all his for the taking, and all he needed to do was claim it. Everything he could ever need was housed within these pages. What else might this ancient pharaoh be able to teach him?

"Good, good… I can see you are already enthralled by my knowledge," the voice chuckled darkly.

—————————————

"Harry, what is going on?" she demanded, starting to feel truly alarmed. "It's only a memory, and even I can sense that it's evil, why couldn't you?"

"I couldn't, because I was already under its power," he replied, and Daphne gasped.

"Looking back, he must've decided to target me as soon as I'd arrived. He could probably tell how much more powerful I was and determined I would be a more useful servant than Titania. By the time the bitch raised the book in the air I was already falling under its power, and I didn't even know it. My bloodlust, the moment I ripped her open, and..."

Harry dropped his head.

"With every action I took at his behest, I fell more and more under his control. I was only moments away from being completely consumed by it. If I had, I would've become something far worse than Titania and Oberon could've ever dreamed of."

—————————————

"The witch and her husband came to me willingly, and I agreed to teach them. I found her attempts to deceive me quite amusing. She would have had me teach her everything I knew, only to use it all to put an end to the Dark, as if that were possible. Dark, Light; one cannot exist without the other. She neither understood real power nor the nature of magic."

Memory Harry continued skimming the pages.

"She believed herself to be strong-willed and fit to rule, yet she was so easily manipulated. I didn't even need to force my will upon her. She listened to me willingly, all on the promise that I would help her cause. She gathered followers and took up arms in an attempt to eradicate the Darkness, but the entire time, she was unknowingly carrying out my plans!"

The voice laughed maniacally.

"She dispatched or marginalised any who could oppose me in this land, and she built me the beginnings of a powerful army of servants. She served her purpose well, but you...you are so much more than she ever was. You are everything she yearned to be - powerful, resolute, and a respected leader. You are all of those things, and yet, through me, you can become even greater. Your power must be mine, Harry Potter; you shall be my greatest servant. You are far too powerful to be left unchecked."

—————————————

Daphne gulped nervously. She could see memory Harry becoming visibly more enthralled, the more he read through the tome. He had a manic expression on his face, and his eyes kept getting darker and darker, to the point where they were almost completely black.

—————————————

"Take my vessel with you and go, Harry Potter," the voice commanded.

"Take it, and protect it with your life and the lives of your kin. Serve me well. Gather my servants and my remaining artefacts, and help me return to the world of the living. In return, I shall grant you your heart's innermost desire."

"Daphne...Daphy..." memory Harry whispered, and the voice laughed triumphantly.

"Ah, your wife and child. Bringing them back from the land of the dead is nothing. Once I've given you my teachings, even you will be able to accomplish this feat. All I need is your allegiance, and a pact sealed in magic and blood. Do this, and all you desire will be yours."

Memory Harry closed the tome, his eyes now black as midnight.

—————————————

Daphne couldn't fathom how memory Harry was able to escape the necromancer's influence, and she was starting to panic. Real Harry was still perfectly calm, though he was staring at the tome as if he was hoping to destroy it just by glaring at it.

—————————————

"My love... my children... all I want..." memory Harry whispered in a trancelike state.

He readied his knife to swear the required blood oath, when something happened. There was a whisper, perhaps even a memory… It was difficult to tell what had actually happened, but all of a sudden, memory Harry had started gasping for breath and was wildly looking around the room. Much to real Daphne's delight, his eyes were quickly reverting to their normal white and beautiful emerald green.

"What?" he inquired loudly, looking around the room in confusion. Then he suddenly remembered what he was holding, his eyes widening at the sight of the tome in his hand.

"HOW?!" the voice roared, and Harry staggered slightly as he felt his mind come under assault. In a panic, he threw the tome to the floor and cast a torrent of Fiendfyre directly at it.

Surprisingly, the tome didn't immediately burn, even though everything surrounding it was immediately incinerated. For a moment, it seemed that the artefact was going to successfully fend off the serpentine flames, however, the Fiendfyre proved to be more powerful in the end. The cover started to blacken and catch fire as the first of the flames penetrated its protections, and the rest was consumed within seconds.

"NNNNOOOOO!" the voice shouted again, and a grey, smoke-like figure emerged from amongst the flames.

The shade of the long-dead necromancer had taken form above the ashes of its earthbound vessel, its glowing red eyes focused on memory Harry. The shade raised its arms if preparing for an attack, but with a scream, it faded and disappeared, as it was finally consumed by the smoke and flames raging throughout the Longbottoms' library.

Memory Harry was bent over slightly with his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath, when a new voice called out to him.

"Well done, Master Potter."

Memory Harry immediately directed his wand towards the voice. Standing in the doorway was a pale man decked out in chainmail, underneath a set of dark red robes. In his hand was a gleaming silver longsword.

"I feared I would have to kill you, but I'm glad it didn't come to that."

"Who... Who are you?" memory Harry asked.

The man smiled at him, revealing his sharp fangs.

"My name is unimportant, for now," the vampire replied. "Just know that you have made powerful friends this day, Master Potter."

"But..."

"We need to leave, before the flames overtake us," the vampire interrupted. "I don't know about you, but I have no intention of dying today."

Memory Harry hesitated a moment, but he recognised the sense in the vampire's plan and quickly followed him out of the library and away from the inferno.

—————————————

The memory ended in a flaming swirl, and they were back in the Chamber.

"You know, I really was afraid..."

Harry didn't get to finish his thought, because Daphne immediately latched onto him and started sobbing. He exhaled deeply and started rubbing her back.

"It's alright, Daph."

"What... What was that thing?" she asked between sobs.

"More than a Horcrux, but less than a man. Locked within that book was a piece of an enormously powerful wizard's soul. I'd learned quite a bit about Horcruxes while hunting Voldemort's, but that artefact was much stronger and capable of so much more than a mere soul container."

Daphne stopped crying and regained her composure. She stood on her tip toes to give Harry a leisurely kiss, and then she was back to her usual self.

"I know it was just a memory, but that was still one of the most terrifying things I've ever witnessed," she whispered. "I just wanted to see Titania killed, I wasn't expecting that..."

"Believe me, I understand, but it all worked out in the end. Oberon and Titania were dead, and we won the war. We had the support of the people in creating a new government, and peace had finally returned to our world."

"And yet, that thing…" she said, and he shook his head.

"That vampire wasn't lying when he said I'd made powerful friends," Harry explained, smiling softly at her. "They made contact a short while later, and through them I learned that the tome I incinerated was the very last artefact. With its destruction, a war more than four thousand years old had come to an end."

"That's a relief, I guess. The whole thing was so unbelievable, and yet... there's no way to discard what I saw," Daphne said quietly.

"My crossing paths with it was just a coincidence," Harry assured her, and Daphne snorted. Maybe it was happenstance, and maybe not, but nobody could deny that Harry seemed to have a knack for landing himself in these situations. She just hoped that it was an isolated incident, and that…monster…wouldn't be a problem in this timeline.

"So, Oberon and Titania were corrupted by the...tome?" Daphne asked uncertainly.

"In a sense, but you heard him. He said they went to him willingly, and I still hold them responsible for every single one of their heinous acts," Harry replied firmly.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to excuse them," Daphne replied hastily, "I'm just trying to understand."

"They found the book in Egypt and voluntarily sought help from an ancient necromancer. They may have been influenced by it to an extent, but they knew what they were doing. As you heard, the shade found the situation quite amusing."

"It almost feels like a pyrrhic victory, doesn't it?" Daphne asked.

"Maybe," he replied, looking contemplative. "It was for me, at least. The Longbottoms had already been to Egypt when you were killed. You might even say that you were the first casualty of the war. Add to that the fact that losing Daphy was what drove me to take the steps that ultimately ended it…"

"It must have been so hard for you," she said, caressing his cheek.

"We'd lost a lot, but Oberon was dead, Titania was dead, and eventually I learned that Rhassel'Thoth was dead, for good this time. My personal losses aside, we actually ended the war in a fairly decent place, which allowed us to rebuild our society relatively quickly."

"Once the fighting was done, life quickly returned to normal for most people," he sighed. "For me, that meant loneliness and regret."

Daphne smiled softly.

"Not anymore," she said resolutely, wrapping her arms around his neck and snogging him for everything he was worth.

"Wow..." he said, several minutes later.

"That's for winning the war, resisting the corrupting influence of the shade, and avenging our..."

She choked back a sob.

"…our Daphy...our baby girl."

Harry pulled her into his chest and began silently stroking hair.

"How did you endure it?" she asked.

"I hardly did..." he replied softly.

"I buried myself in work and spent some time with our friends and family, but even with those distractions I barely held it together. Sometime around my fiftieth birthday I found some mind spells that allowed me to create versions of you and Daphy in my mind. I thought it might help, but instead, I completely lost myself. I spent so much time locked inside my own mind with them that I almost died of hunger and thirst."

Daphne's eyes widened.

"Thankfully, Dobby was there to help pull me out of it. From that point on, I just tried to keep myself occupied. I threw myself into my research and tried to learn as much as I could, which is what ultimately set me down the path of creating the ritual that let me come back for you."

"I just really hated my life," Harry sighed. "If it wasn't for Astoria..."

"Why?" Daphne asked sharply, and Harry realised he needed to make sure she didn't get the wrong idea.

"Astoria was only ever a sister to me," he reassured her. "She was the closest family I had left. We spent plenty of time together, but nothing like that ever happened, and neither of us ever wanted it to."

"Good," Daphne whispered, wondering where that wave of jealousy came from.

Harry yawned. He checked the time, and they were both surprised to learn that it was nearly four o'clock in the morning.

"Wow, time did fly," Harry chuckled, while Daphne sat back down in the chair and hid a yawn behind her hand.

They were both still wearing their dress robes. The ball and the conflict with the Weasleys felt like a lifetime ago. Had it really only been a matter of hours? After everything she'd witnessed and experienced that night, Daphne didn't feel like the same person she was before. She'd changed. She knew what she wanted out of life, and she knew what she needed to do in order to get it. Everything else seemed trivial by comparison.

"So, now you know the full truth about why I despise Longbottom, Granger, and the Weasleys. I've shown you who I really am, and the things that I've done. Knowing all this, has anything changed for you?"

"Yes," Daphne admitted. Harry held his breath for a moment, but he waited for her to continue.

"I can't stay idle and watch you do everything alone. You say I'm your partner in all things, and it's time I started contributing. I want to help you. First against Voldemort, and then in taking vengeance on the bastards that killed me and our daughter, and nearly destroyed our world. After that, I want…"

Daphne blushed.

"What?" he asked, and Daphne shed a single tear.

"I want Daphy back, Harry. I never knew her, but I want her."

Harry rose from his seat and knelt by her side, taking her hand.

"Daphy may be lost to us, Daph... Millie never told me where she got the baby that became our Daphy, nor where she found the recipe for the potion. We can have another daughter, but she won't be Daphy," he whispered.

"I know," she said quietly, wiping her tears. Harry stood and pulled her up into a hug.

"Do you want to call it a night?" he murmured into her hair. "It's been an emotional day for both of us."

"I do. I'm exhausted," she replied.

"Dobby can take you to your dorm."

Daphne's stomach sank at the thought of going back.

"No, I don't want to be alone tonight," she responded, blushing slightly.

"Can... Can I stay with you? Nothing will happen, only sleeping," she felt the need to add, which Harry found amusing. Naturally, he agreed, and Dobby was sent to Daphne's dorm to retrieve her pyjamas.

"I should tell you, I usually sleep in my underwear," Harry said with a wry grin, and Daphne's cheeks flushed again. "But I think my other self had some pyjamas in the trunk, let me check. I wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable."

"You wouldn't," she replied quietly, while Harry searched through his trunk.

"Is it alright with you if I sleep only in pyjama trousers?" he asked over his shoulder, and Daphne nodded her agreement.

Dobby popped into the room holding a set of thin, silver pyjamas.

"Is this what you wanted, Mistress?"

"That's right, Dobby, thank you."

Dobby conjured a large screen for Daphne to change behind. When she was done, she handed her dress to Dobby, and he took it back to her dorm for her. She sat down on the bed to wait for Harry, thinking about everything she'd discovered that night. There was no doubt that it would be a day she would never forget. Harry arrived a few minutes later, shirtless. Her eyes widened slightly at the sight, and not because of the prominent scar on his arm.

"Comfortable?" he asked, as he climbed into the bed and slid under the covers.

She nodded, trying to control her blush.

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

Daphne only nodded again.

"If you're sure..."

Harry laid back on his pillow and Daphne curled up into his side. He turned the lights off, and they both of laid there in silence for a time. Neither of them knew it, but they were both thinking about how right it felt to lay in each other's arms, and the sense of completion it brought.

"I've missed having you beside me..." he whispered, giving Daphne a quick squeeze.

"It feels so right..." she agreed, and with a contented sigh, she snuggled in closer.

"Harry?"

"Hmm?"

"In the memory, I thought I saw my sister and Hallys kissing..."

"Oh… Yes, you probably did," Harry confirmed. "They started dating during the war and were married shortly after it ended. They asked me to perform the ceremony myself."

"What?" Daphne asked, propping herself up on her elbow. "And you didn't think to tell me that, why?"

"I didn't think it was really important yet?"

Daphne snorted.

"Turn on the lights, Potter," she ordered.

Harry complied at once, grinning when saw Daphne perched over top of him with that look she always had when she was about to demand information.

"Was she happy with him?"

"I'd never seen her that happy before," he replied. "She truly loved him, and he truly loved her."

"That's good enough, I guess," Daphne sighed, then looked at Harry with a teasing grin. "Why did they ask you to do the ceremony? Did you retire from the Dark Lord business and become some sort of priest?"

"Ha-ha, Greengrass, very funny," he replied dryly, making her laugh.

"Astoria was one to respect tradition, so Jason came to me and asked for my permission to marry her, since I was Astoria's older brother, for all intents and purposes, and the only family she cared about. I was happy to give them my blessing, of course. They asked me to preside over the ceremony because I was the Dark Lord Potter and Minister of Magic; there was no higher authority in all of Britain."

"What?" she exclaimed.

"What do you mean, what?" Harry asked.

"Minister of Magic?" she demanded, and Harry rolled his eyes.

"Yes, about that," he started.

"It turned out that the new Wizengamot decided there was only one person they wanted as their leader, and they weren't going to take no for an answer. That's how I got saddled with the Minister of Magic and Chief Warlock jobs for nearly fifty years," he said, rolling his eyes. "Yippee!"

Daphne burst out laughing and flopped back down on the bed.

"If you can stay awake a bit longer, I can show you the memory of when our friends convinced me to accept the positions," Harry offered.

"At this point we might as well," agreed Daphne, "but after that we should get some sleep."

Harry nodded, suppressing a yawn.

"This works out perfectly, because I was going to end up showing you this memory anyway. Oddly enough, this is the same night I was contacted by the 'powerful friends' the vampire mentioned when I destroyed the necromancer's artefact. Their representative came to me shortly before the conversation with our friends about my becoming Minister."

Daphne looked at Harry sceptically as they got out of bed and made their way back to the Pensieve.

"That seems almost too coincidental, but this is you we're talking about, so…" she teased.

Harry just rolled his eyes and placed the memory in the basin, then they both entered the Pensieve once again.

Harry was alone in a dimly lit room, sitting in a comfortable looking leather chair and sipping what appeared to be red wine.

"Where were you?" Daphne questioned.

"This is one of the waiting rooms inside the Ministry of Magic. Even though I was a Dark Lord, the new Wizengamot asked me to come so they could award me the Order of Merlin for all my efforts in the war."

"Interesting…"

"I didn't even want to go, to be honest. The only reason I showed up was because Astoria guilted me into it. She told me, 'Your wife and daughter would be proud to see you receiving the reward for all your efforts', and I didn't really have a good argument against it.

—————————————

As memory Harry was waiting patiently, a newcomer entered the room. He was a tall, pale man wearing red robes trimmed with gold, and looking every bit the aristocrat.

"You are the Dark Lord Harry James Potter-Black, correct?" the man inquired.

"I am indeed. I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage," Harry replied politely. Being a Dark Lord was no excuse for poor manners, after all. While being ruthless and powerful was an occupational requirement, it was important to be charismatic as well.

"I am Count Bahadir Asil," the man introduced himself with a bow. "I am a member of the Meharjhai clan."

"I'm afraid I've never heard of it," Harry responded.

"I'd be surprised if you did, Lord Potter," the count replied with a friendly smile. "Though our clan may be ancient, it is also quite secretive."

Harry took a closer look at the man and noticed his prominent fangs.

"You're a vampire."

"Indeed. I have come to bring you a message from my sire and clan master, Patriarch Rhamessu-Sethi," the vampire claimed, offering a scroll to Harry and claiming a seat opposite him.

Harry took the scroll and opened it, finding nothing inside but hieroglyphs.

"My apologies, but I don't know how to read this."

"I can translate for you, if I may be so permitted."

Harry handed the scroll back to the count and waited as the man read through it.

"It is as I suspected," the man replied pleasantly. "My patriarch offers you a formal greeting in his mother tongue, but that's not really important. He goes on to salute your bravery and your victories in battle, and he says that he considers you a great warrior."

Harry looked contemplative.

"He also wishes to extend his gratitude to you and your kind, for your final defeat of the great enemy, Rhassel'Thoth."

Harry's eyes grew wide with interest.

"Hold on, the necromancer's soul in the tome?" he asked, and the vampire nodded solemnly.

"My patriarch offers a short resume of the great enemy along with the history of the Meharjhai clan. If you wish, I can translate it for you."

At Harry's nod, the count continued.

"Millennia ago, in what we today know as Egypt, a powerful wizard was born and given the name Rhassel. He grew to have a fascination with death, even becoming an embalmer in service to the Pharaoh. He used his magic to experiment with the sacred proceedings of the dead, and he discovered how to partially reanimate corpses and force them to do his bidding. He learned how to entrap souls, dominate minds, and create spells to destroy and control life. Ancient legends state that he experimented upon my kind with the intention of devising a method for achieving eternal life."

"At the height of his power, he took the name Rhassel'Thoth and gathered an army of his own, which he used to conquer the kingdoms and name himself Pharaoh. The next hundred years were mired in darkness, until the first Meharjhai, a group formed by priests and soldiers, came together to oppose him. After many years and countless battles, but the physical shell of Rhassel'Thoth was eventually destroyed. That was when our ancestors came to learn of the many artefacts created by him, each of them housing a small sliver of his essence."

"Like a Horcrux?" asked Harry, and the count shook his head.

"Regrettably, Herpo the Foul created such horrid things by studying one of the great enemy's artefacts. While inferior to the objects that inspired them, Horcruxes serve the same general purpose as the enemy's artefacts. They both even require the mutilation of one's soul."

"If not a Horcrux, then what exactly was that thing?"

"I believe that the best explanation would be to describe it as a sort of window."

Harry raised an eyebrow, his inquisitive expression making the count chuckle.

"The great enemy is dead and resides beyond the world of the living, but not completely. While those artefacts remained, the enemy would have a 'window' by which he could partially manifest in the world of the living. Through these items, he could possess living creatures and perform some limited magic. With the right conditions in place, the artefacts could even enable him to step through the 'window' and fully return to our world. Fortunately, our ancestors managed to destroy several of the artefacts all those millennia ago, greatly diminishing the great enemy's chances of returning. However, as long as a single artefact existed, Rhassel'Thoth was a threat to our world."

"Now, we Meharjhai have been at war against the great enemy since the beginning, and throughout history we managed to destroy several more artefacts. Believe it or not, but Carthage was actually corrupted from within by one of these artefacts, forcing the Meharjhai to sponsor Rome to destroy the city."

Memory Harry looked impressed. The power these Meharjhai wielded must be significant if they were able to achieve such a thing, even in the ancient world.

"But none of that is relevant. For now, all you need to know is that some years ago, we located the stronghold where the enemy's final artefact was housed. We attacked in force, but the high priest, an individual known as Varrard'Thoth, escaped with the book. He was a cunning man, one who claimed to be the great enemy's greatest disciple. He was eventually found and destroyed, but he had already hidden the tome and we were unable to locate it."

"In Egypt?" asked Harry, and the count nodded. "This Varrard'Thoth must have passed it to someone, and the Longbottoms somehow acquired it."

"That is our suspicion, as well. We followed the tome's trail to Britain nearly four years ago, staying hidden while we planned to recover the item. We were not successful in infiltrating the Longbottom estate ourselves, so some of our warriors joined your army in hopes you would achieve our goal for us."

"The vampire..." Harry remembered.

"Viktor Arpad," the count confirmed. "Vampire, and a skilled infiltrator. He spoke highly of you, and of your battle of wills against the enemy. He also mentioned that you nearly yielded. May I ask you where you found the will to resist?"

Harry gazed back at the man, deciding whether or not he wanted to share the tale.

"For a moment, I believed I saw my wife and daughter calling for me from behind a glass wall. They were yelling and trying to get my attention. It looked as if they were doing everything they could to break its spell over me... It was enough."

"Yes, love is indeed powerful. Whatever the cause, you were able to destroy the tome, and for that, we Meharjhai are in your debt. We would like to reward you for your efforts, and perhaps do some business with you, as well."

"Oh?"

"Yes, which leads us to the rest of the Patriarch's missive. Those who contribute to our mission are usually offered membership in our clan. After becoming a member, you would have access to all of our lore and secrets. In return, we would request that you to add to our library and occasionally offer your assistance to our members, should they stand in your area of influence. Furthermore, should you be interested, you may approach some of our werewolf or vampire members and request their gift."

"I see," Harry replied thoughtfully.

"I believe that at this point, you may be wondering if there is a catch," the count predicted.

Harry inclined his head.

"Well, apart from the slim possibility of being summoned to battle or provide aid, should the need arise, the clan would request nothing more of you beyond a vow of silence and secrecy. I was tasked with making you the offer and giving you a week's time to consider. I shall be staying at the Savoy Hotel for the next seven days, and you may contact me there at any time."

"I admit that your offer seems intriguing. I must ask, if Rhassel' Toth has indeed been vanquished, then why do you still need to recruit?"

"Just because a flood has passed, that doesn't mean you shouldn't prepare for the next one," the count recited wisely. "One never knows when the next great enemy may arise."

"You realise, of course, that I am considered a Dark Lord."

"You wouldn't be the first in our midst," the count replied pragmatically.

"I see. You mentioned something about business?"

"We would like to learn the spell you used to destroy the tome. Viktor Arpad was no wizard, and he was unable to provide us with much information."

"What's in it for me, if I were to share this knowledge with you?"

"What is it that you want?"

"You can't give me what I want."

"No, I cannot," the count replied knowingly. "You are not the first to lose everything, Lord Potter-Black," the man said, then returned his attention to the scroll.

"That being said, the Patriarch goes on to request that you address any and all questions or doubts to me. The missive ends with a cordial salutation, and then he signs off, 'Respectfully, Rhamessu-Sethi'."

The vampire rose from his seat and smoothed out his robes.

"As I said, I will be staying at the Savoy for the next week. Please feel free to contact me there anytime, whether it's about your answer to the membership offer, or your price for the spell. I must go now; there are people coming. Have a pleasant day, my lord."

The vampire faded from view and disappeared, leaving Harry alone in the room, slightly awestruck.

The door to the room opened only seconds later, and his friends filed into the room with him. Theo and Tracey were first, followed by Blaise and Millie. Astoria came in next, pulling Jason behind her. It was pretty obvious that they were up to something, and judging by memory Harry's posture, that hadn't slipped his notice either.

"Hello, Harry. How are you?" Tracey asked, being overly polite like she often did when she was nervous.

"Can I get you something to drink, Harry?" asked Millie graciously, and Harry just crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat.

"What's going on?" he demanded.

"Well, my lord, I'll be blunt," stated Jason, who was the only one who didn't look anxious. "The country is in need of strong leadership. We need someone strong, unbroken, powerful, and ruthless. In other words, you."

"No," Harry replied flatly.

"We expected you to say that," Blaise chimed in. "Unfortunately, the Wizengamot is of the same opinion. Over three quarters of the body have elected you to the positions of both Chief Warlock and Minister of Magic, with all the emergency powers the positions impart, and they have refused to accept any other candidates."

Harry started massaging his forehead.

"Harry, we need someone strong to set an example for the country. We need someone who can truly lead us and prevent another collapse..." Astoria started, but Harry seemed to have tuned her out. His thoughts drifted to a different Greengrass girl, and her ideas for a better future for their world.

"A strong wand, a strong voice, and a charismatic leader...you."

"You know I don't like politics," Harry declared, "but I owe it to Daphne."

The others looked around at one another with surprised, but obviously pleased expressions.

"Does that mean you'll do it?" Astoria asked excitedly, and Harry nodded.

"I will lead us, and I promise you that our world will rise again, greater than ever before. One way or another..."

—————————————

The memory ended and the couple were once again back in the Chamber, in their pyjamas. Daphne was grinning at Harry, but she was also swelling with pride and respect for him and what he had accomplished. Harry, however, was contemplative. The memories sent him thinking about the events that followed, which culminated in the Witching Wars and his installation as the de facto dictator of Magical Britain.

"That's pretty much all there was to it."

"I'm guessing you also said yes to the Mehar- Me-hardeye?" Daphne asked, Harry chuckling as she mangled the name.

"Meharjhai. I traded them the secret of Fiendfyre for the manual on how to fade, and yes, I agreed to join with them, and I gained access to more troves of knowledge than I ever imagined. I studied them for years, and my power and abilities increased exponentially. Between what I copied from the Meharjhai, the Potter and Black family libraries, and the volumes I had taken from this very Chamber, I had one of the most complete private collections of magical knowledge in the world."

"Did they ever ask you for something in return?" Daphne asked.

"Nothing special, apart from the occasional favour, just like the count said. Even that benefitted me, because it allowed me to make several contacts that ended up helping me in the long run."

"A Slytherin approach, then."

"My heart was always Slytherin," Harry replied, pulling Daphne into a deep kiss. A few minutes later, Daphne broke the kiss with a blissful sigh, and they climbed back into bed.

As Daphne snuggled close to Harry, she couldn't help but mull over his words.

"My heart was always Slytherin."

She couldn't think of anything more perfect, the double meaning warming her own heart. This was the closest she had ever felt to someone, and she was never going to let him go.

"I love you, Harry," she whispered. If it wasn't so dark, she might have seen the brilliant smile that formed on Harry's lips.

"I love you too, Daphne."