A Hero's Past Part II

He pretended to be heartbroken and left the gathering crowd near Dumbledore's body. Retreating to the chamber, he grabbed a black hooded cloak and Apparated to Diagon Alley. With Dumbledore's death, the following instability would cause mass panic. He decided to get in early while people hadn't heard of his murder to get the equipment he would need for a long term scavenger hunt in the woods.

A fully loaded Wizarding tent equipped with the latest security enchantments. He also bought a trunk to keep his spare potions, library, and money. It was locked with a Blood Seal that ensured only he and those with his express permission could open the trunk.

He carried the trunk on a necklace charmed to be invisible and only removable by him. He started learning more wards that could help secure his base of operations. Anti-Apparition, Signature-based Portkey, Repelling, Confundus, and any that dealt with intent were the ones he studied extensively.

He Apparated back to the Chamber and started reading up on Healing spells, glamour charms, and anything that could potentially save his life and allow some anonymity. The Death Eaters would be playing for keeps, and their spell selection would reflect that, so Harry also started drilling in counter-curses, to cover a large range of Dark spells.

He had gone and retrieved Dumbledore's wand from the Astronomy Tower, only to have it shoot golden sparks from the tip as he picked it up. He felt a connection to the wand. One much deeper than he felt to his holly and phoenix feather wand. His magic sang to him in a way he hadn't experienced before as he held the wand.

While in euphoria he found himself entranced by the knowledge being poured into his mind. Ancient and powerful spells that he hadn't even seen in Salazar's library. Most of them were Dark spells, but the later ones were mainly Charms, Transfiguration, and Alchemy based spells.

The Elder Wand.

He didn't know how the name came to him, but it had just materialized in his thoughts. He wasn't sure what it meant, but decided to go to the one person he knew would be the most knowledgeable, Ollivander. Despite being a bit... eccentric, when it came to wandlore, Garrick Ollivander knew what he was talking about.

Consulting with Ollivander had been ominous, and enlightening at the same time.

"Mr. Potter. The legends say that the Elder Wand, one of the Deathly Hallows, is the most powerful in the world. Most wandmakers, however, believe its a load of tosh. A wand is simply a focus, Mr. Potter. It cannot grant its master invincibility, but I've always had a theory regarding how it achieved such legendary status.

I believe that this wand purposely corrupts the wielder, and steals their knowledge. It would explain how those who used it could perform feats of magic thought long lost to time. It has gone through many masters, accumulating spells and knowledge along the way, compelling others to seek it out.

Many thought it was the wand that gave its master power, but my theory seems correct going with what you claimed to experience. As a Potter, you are a descendant of the third Peverell brother, Ignotus. The last descendant of the Peverell family. Hence, the family wand has acknowledged you as its true master by blood and magic.

I am sure that even if you are disarmed, it will never betray you and change loyalties. The bond I see forming between you and the Elder Wand is a powerful one, Mr. Potter. If I'm correct, should you die, the wand will die with you, making it no better than a fancy wooden stick.

Regarding the other Hallows, your father James would often prank others with an invisibility cloak he claimed to be a Potter family heirloom. Didn't you ever wonder how a simple invisibility cloak could last generations?"

While there, he had decided to get a custom wand made for him, as being disarmed in a battle was a possibility. Having a spare wand that fit him perfectly would give him a trump card he could use to surprise and overwhelm his opponents.

Ollivander had been ecstatic to create a custom wand, as he hadn't made one in years. Harry presented him with the basilisk tooth, a couple of heartstrings, and 3 vials of venom. Getting over his initial surprise at the rarity of the ingredients, he took Harry to the back to check for other possible core ingredients.

It turned out that Harry was compatible with the heartstring of the Hungarian Horntail he had fought during the first task of the Triwizard Tournament. He also provided some of his blood to stabilize the ingredients, as Ollivander stated that they were powerful and finicky.

With his materials chosen and Ollivander excited to experiment, he left the store with the promise of receiving the wand after Dumbledore's funeral. Apparating back to the Chamber, he continued his preparation to fight the Death Eaters while he waited for the day of the funeral to arrive.

He had written a small but "heartfelt" eulogy that spoke of his admiration of Dumbledore and how he looked up to the man like he would a grandfather. He managed to swallow his contempt for the man and deliver it properly when the day arrived. He had choked up a couple of times as he cursed himself for writing such emotional crap that he couldn't even say it without involuntarily gagging.

The audience, however, had lapped it all up. Here was the saintly Boy-Who-Lived, the Golden Gryffindor, getting emotional over his mentor/surrogate grandfather's death. He had used a spell provided by the Elder Wand to transfigure a random stick into a replica of the Elder Wand and placed it inside Dumbledore's grave. It would look and feel authentic, but it would just be a stick.

There was no way Voldemort would miss an opportunity to become the master of the Elder Wand. He wished he could be there to see Voldemort's face when he realized it wouldn't work for him. Hopefully, he would kill a couple of followers trying to become the new master. As far as Harry was concerned, the only good Death Eater was a dead one.

Nobody was able to see through the facade of sadness that Harry had on, save for one person. Luna Lovegood. The lovable scamp had approached Harry and mentioned that the Blibbering Humdingers told her he felt the exact opposite of what he said.

Merlin, how he loved her quirkiness. She had always had the uncanny gift of knowing things she shouldn't, and boy it had thrown Harry for a loop on multiple occasions.

Ollivander had arrived and handed over Harry's new wand after the funeral.

"This is your new partner, Mr. Potter. 13 and 1/7 inches. A completely liquid core made of basilisk and dragon heartstrings melted down in basilisk venom stabilized using your blood, encased in thousand-year-old basilisk ivory. Unyielding and powerful, excellent for Transfiguration, Charms, and the Dark Arts. I daresay this is one of the most potent wands I have ever crafted.

I took the liberty to etch some secret Ollivander family runic Glyphs inside the casing that aids and amplifies the flow of magic. It is the only wand not wielded by a member of my family that will have these Glyphs, and I would appreciate it if you kept them a secret."

Harry gave him an Oath of Secrecy to not speak about the runic Glyphs in his wand and went to board the Hogwarts Express for the last time.

The following summer had been better than every previous one. He had warned the Dursleys about Voldemort, and like the cowards they were, they ran as far away as possible. He was left alone in the house for a week before the Order decided to move him to Grimmauld Place.

When he was looking for his room, he coincidentally found out who R.A.B. was. Regulus Arcturus Black. Sirius' younger brother. In his capacity as Lord Black, he had demanded Kreacher to tell him the location of the locket, only to find out that Mundungus Fletcher had stolen it after Sirius' demise at the Department of Mysteries.

While there, he spent most of his time in the library studying the various tomes or practicing his spells and wardbreaking in the dueling room. While in the library, he met the portrait of Arcturus Black III, his maternal granduncle. He was informed by Arcturus about the Potter family's history, particularly the exploits of his grandfather Charlus Potter.

Arcturus told him about the Peverell vault and how it contained the family grimoire, said to hold some of the most potent enhancement rituals written by Morgana Le Fay herself. He spent almost two and a half months talking and planning with Arcturus about the war and the Horcrux Hunt. He turned out to be a wellspring of information about small-unit tactics and useful battle magics and spell chains.

As he was leaving Grimmauld Place to attend a wedding at The Burrow, Arcturus gave him some last-minute advice. Those words became the ideal he would live by for the rest of his life.

"When you fight in this war, keep in mind the famous words of the Muggle American General George Patton. 'May God have mercy for my enemies because I won't.' Your enemies are animals who have no qualms against torturing and murdering the innocent, Harrison. Treat them accordingly, and show no quarter." Nodding stoically, Harry had left Grimmauld Place, unknowingly for the last time.

He had gone to the Burrow and met with the traitors, who were all trying their best to play their respective roles. Ginny made several passes at him, Hermione nagged and hugged him more often, and Ron was quiet and understanding for once. If he hadn't witnessed their treachery firsthand, he would have thought they were the best friends in the world.

While he was there, he had met with Fleur Delacour, the Beauxbatons Triwizard Champion. The quarter Veela had moved to England and taken up a job at Gringotts to become a Cursebreaker. She had met Bill Weasely on the job and they started dating. A few months later, they were getting married.

He had noticed how odd she had been acting and had taken drastic measures. Walking into her room, he had cast Silencing Charm on the door and a Body-Bind on her. He forced a Flushing Potion down her throat, and the effects were immediate. Rushing to the bathroom, she had puked up the various potions she was dosed with for the next couple of hours and came back a different person.

While she was indisposed, Rufus Scrimgeour had come calling to distribute the items listed in Dumbledore's will. Harry received the Snitch he had caught in his first game at Hogwarts. He knew the Gaunt Ring was within it and took less than 10 minutes to get it open. The password had been rather pedestrian. He had felt a little insulted at how easily the riddle was solved.

He had recognized the stone set into the ring as the final Deathly Hallow, the Resurrection Stone. To test whether the legend had any validity, he turned the stone over three times in his hand and waited.

He had been greeted by an illusion where he saw his parents and Sirius encouraging him to walk to his death. He almost blew a gasket and leveled The Burrow, but managed to restrain his anger behind his Occlumency barriers.

The wedding was starting in a few hours and Fleur managed to recover from the effects of the Flushing Potion. She sent out a letter to stop her parents from coming. They planned to run away while the wedding was starting and she would go back to France.

That hadn't worked out well, as Kingsley had sent a Patronus informing them that the Ministry had fallen while Fleur was packing her things. This left Fleur unable to leave the country as it had been locked down and all forms of international travel had been restricted. They escaped to Gringotts when the Death Eaters attacked the wedding tent, and Harry went to retrieve the Peverell grimoire.

He went through 3 trials and passed each one with significant effort. After this, he met Morgana Le Fay herself. She informed him of her connection to the Peverell family and officially declared him as the new Lord Peverell, thereby also making him Prince Le Fay.

Ragnok had been overjoyed at the return of the Le Fay family and extended the helping hand of the Goblin Nation against Voldemort. Harry took him up on his offer and got to train under a Goblin Weapon Master, Forger, and Cursebreaker. The reasoning being that he would need to fight, be able to maintain or fix his weapons, and also break into secure locations.

Instead of using the goblins to get her out of the country, Fleur decided to stay and fight. She had multiple reasons for choosing to help Harry. He had saved her sister's life during the Triwizard Tournament. He had also protected her purity by freeing her from the influence of multiple potions. That was something that Veela held sacred, and Fleur chose to honor her debts by fighting alongside him.

After months of training and gradually breaking all the blocks Harry had on his magic, he had never felt better. Morgana had trained him in Ancient Runes, and he had gotten the goblin's help in acquiring the ingredients for the various enhancement rituals he completed. The goblins had also managed to locate and destroy one of the Horcruxes, Hufflepuff's Cup, during an audit of known Death Eater vaults.

In the meantime, the goblins had been informed of the Horcruxes and had set out to find any news on Mundungus Fletcher and the locket. After a month of searching, they found out about Dung's arrest by the Aurors. So Fleur and Harry's first mission was to infiltrate the Ministry and secure the locket. Despite a few hiccups, they managed to complete the mission and return in one piece.

After a successful mission at the Ministry to retrieve the Slytherin's locket, Harry and Fleur left Gringotts to go hunt for the remaining Horcruxes. During the day, they would review Harry's notes and practice to keep their skills sharp. During the nights, Harry would train with Morgana in controlling his newfound power and learning about Ancient Runes that he could use to enchant objects that can help him in a fight.

While camping out in the woods, they made sure to keep up to date on what was happening at the Ministry and the British magical public at large. It had come as no surprise that the Daily Prophet had keeled over and become the mouthpiece of Voldemort's new regime. Who said anything about magical journalists being having any more integrity than Muggle ones?

On one issue, Harry found a picture of himself on the front page with the large words "Undesirable No. 1" printed in big, bold letters above. A note at the bottom claimed a 10,000G bounty for his head. Honestly, he felt a little insulted. With his Lordships, 10,000G was a drop in the ocean. Surely Voldemort himself thought he was worth more than that?

Then again, he wasn't surprised seeing as the new Minister for Magic, Lucius Malfoy, was always known to be a cheapskate of the highest order. When he wasn't spending hours preening, he was complicit in the genocide of British Muggleborns.

It took a couple of months, but with the help of the goblins, Fleur and Harry were able to break into the camps and free the Muggleborns who were imprisoned there. A few of them joined up to fight against the Death Eaters, but many others chose to flee England.

It was disappointing to see, but Harry hadn't stopped them. For those that stayed, Harry approached the only other British magical resistance group in existence, the Order of the Phoenix, for an alliance.

Along with the original Order members, some of whom were Aurors, they were able to quickly develop the combat skills of their friends to become capable fighters. Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody had been one of the most effective instructors Harry had ever had the pleasure of learning from. The man had ingrained a sense of constant situational awareness and paranoia into him that had saved his life on numerous occasions.

The war against the Death Eaters had been a ruthless one. It took a little while for the Order to finally get over the no killing limitation that Dumbledore had brainwashed them into adopting. It was only after the horrible demise of Dedalus Diggle that they collectively decided that enough was enough.

While the Death Eaters had been initially surprised by the Order's new rules of engagement and willingness to kill, it didn't last very long. They had been killing others for a long time, so with their enemies finally starting to fight back, it only made them fight harder. The momentum was on their side, and morale was high. The Order seemed to be in a desperate position.

Despite their best efforts, within two years, the Order had been whittled down to only 3 members. Remus had chosen to take Fenrir Greyback with him in a final act of desperation and revenge, and that had affected Harry badly. With Remus gone, he had lost the final connection he had to his parents.

Hogwarts, the school that had been his home away from the Dursleys, had turned into a battleground on more than one occasion. The Death Eaters had tried to keep the school running and used the children as leverage to keep the professors and the noble families in line.

They replaced DADA with a Dark Arts class where Slytherin students would demonstrate their learning on their classmates. Propaganda against those of impure blood was forced down the student's throats daily.

The Hogwarts wards were ancient magic, but Harry was able to infiltrate the castle through the lesser-known passageways that the Marauder's Map showed him. It helped that the castle's magic did not recognize the new headmaster, Severus Snape.

The ensuing battle to wrest back control of Hogwarts left 2 professors and 3 students killed, along with several others injured. Ultimately, the Death Eaters were rebuffed and kicked out, but the price had been too high.

After the battle, word had gotten out to the general public, and parents had arrived in droves to withdraw their children from the school and escape the country. Some of the older Muggleborn and more independent Pureblood students decided to join up with Harry's group and fight against Voldemort.

Two days later, the castle had been stormed by Death Eater forces led by Voldemort himself. They took back control of the castle, but Harry and his allies made sure to leave nothing for them when they returned.

The library had been transferred to a secret location, the professors had all packed up and left, the Headmaster's office had been cleaned out, and even the Room of Requirement hadn't been spared. Unfortunately, Harry hadn't been able to find the Potter Lord ring that Dumbledore had hidden, so he had given up on it.

To say that Voldemort had been angry at the loss was an understatement. He and his men went on the warpath, slaughtering everyone who was even suspected of working for the resistance. With all the children gone, he could no longer coerce the Lords to work with him. Several had already escaped England, so his plans to use their resources had been ruined.

Nevertheless, he had forged on and steadily worked to unite the entire Ministry and the public with him. Instead of relying on the Lords to contribute their wealth, he targeted the source, Gringotts.

Goblins were inherently greedy creatures, and betrayal tended to quite common among those of the Nation. Save for blood relationships and those where personal and clan honor was concerned, most goblins were quite pragmatic when it came to their loyalties.

Voldemort spent a long time searching for the right goblin and found Griphook, a lowly Vault Runner who had been passed over for promotion multiple times. With a little bit of persuasion mixed with the typical charisma and promises of power, Voldemort was able to convince Griphook to rebel and overthrow the Goblin King and the High Council.

It had taken nearly a year of careful preparation, but when they struck, nobody had been ready for the fallout. Ragnok had perished, managing to protect the first 10 Vaults by collapsing the passageway and closing the entrance with clan specific blood wards. The High Council members were killed outright and the Nation had descended into chaos at having the entirety of their leadership killed.

With the help of Voldemort's forces, Griphook was able to secure his position as the new Goblin King. Of course, in return, the Death Eaters were able to access the nearly 592 inactive vaults and raid them for their gold and family heirlooms and artifacts.

Once he had finished benefiting from the alliance, Voldemort betrayed Griphook and unleashed a plague upon the Nation. Gringotts was forced to close it's doors permanently as they isolated themselves and struggled to survive.

The Resistance never heard from the goblins ever again. It had hurt them badly because of how critical the goblin's infrastructure was for the war effort. However, they couldn't spend time worrying about it, because Voldemort gave them many other things to worry about. His conquest of Britain continued, fueled by the nearly unlimited amount of gold he had secured through his alliance with Gringotts.

The entire world had gone to hell in a hand-basket after that. Within four years of his resurrection, Voldemort had established total rule over Magical Britain.

That had been his goal for the longest time, and succeeding should have stopped the endless suffering and death. Things were usually never that simple.

'Of course, taking over the entire British Magical community wasn't enough. The Dark Wanker couldn't leave well enough alone.'

In a bid to expand his empire, he attacked the most prominent Muggle target in all of Britain, the Palace of Westminster. The meeting place of the British Parliament. The lunatic had waltzed in, exposed the magical world, and declared himself the new King of England.

Naturally, the members of Parliament had not taken his words seriously and called security. He then proceeded to magically slaughter every person in the chamber in front of rolling news cameras broadcasting the massacre nationwide.

After his publicity stunt, the entire Muggle world lost their collective minds. Many were fearful of the existence of entire communities of people that manipulated reality at their whim. Governments all around the world had trouble calming down their citizens as they desperately tried to communicate with their magical counterparts.

The Order had been located by MI6, who sent agents to deliver a summons from the Queen. Harry had gone and informed her of the war they had been fighting against Voldemort for the last four years.

The Queen had offered him the support of the British government and all of its resources to stop Voldemort for good. His group of guerrilla fighters had coordinated with the SAS to train in asymmetrical warfare and tactics. They had gone from a ragtag militia to an effective magical fighting force.

Sadly, the Muggles were limited to providing logistical and operational support. They had seen the devastation of Voldemort's attack on Parliament and had attempted to come up with methods to fight back against magicals. Ultimately, nothing was able to come out of their research for one main reason. They were fighting against people who wielded a force that made the impossible possible.

This was one of the main lessons that Morgana had drilled into Harry's mind. Modern wizards were raised learning the rules of magic. This was an inherently flawed system, as any person who truly understood the fundamental nature of magic knew that all it took was imagination and the power to exert your will upon the world. When it came to true magic, there were no rules.

All the Muggleborn who had thought that the bigoted Purebloods would not be able to survive bullets or bombs were given a rude awakening. Runes that absorbed kinetic energy made bullets completely useless and the Death Eater's manors and other strongholds easily withstood the various bombs the Muggle government threw at them.

The structures were typically on or near Ley lines that soaked the building in magical energy, strengthening the composition of the materials and making them damn near impervious to non-magical forces.

Another reason behind their nigh invulnerability was the power of the wards that had been active for centuries. Many tended to forget that while the bigotry against blood status was a harmful ideology, Purebloods did have something to be proud of.

Their status and knowledge stemmed from the blood, sweat, and tears of their ancestors. Centuries of discoveries and restless exploration into the seemingly endless possibilities of magic gave them a leg up from those who came into their community for the first time.

Pureblood wizards had paid close attention to the progression of Muggle society and had worked tirelessly to counter them. The "Bullet-Stopping" Enchantment had been invented by Purebloods during the American Revolution and was improved from then on. It was the reason why no Pureblood wizards were harmed by Muggle weapons in any of the wars that occurred afterward.

Runic shields against explosives, biological agents, radiation, and many other Muggle weapons of war were developed by and shared amongst the Pureblood families to help keep each other alive. It was much akin to an elite club that gave their members access to special benefits that weren't shared with the general public.

Hence, when an entire SAS squadron had attempted to storm Malfoy Manor, they found themselves horrifyingly outmatched. Not a single soldier survived the encounter, making it the worst failure in SAS history. Since then, the Muggles realized that only magicals stood somewhat of a chance against the enemy, so they focused on training them as best they could.

With the help of the SAS and MI6, the Resistance managed to successfully push the Death Eaters back. After 3 years of fighting, they were on the verge of winning when Voldemort did the unthinkable. The madman had summoned demons in a last-ditch attempt to fight back. This had marked the beginning of the end for the rest of the world, even though they hadn't known it at the time.

Fleur had been killed when they went after Voldemort's last Horcrux, Nagini. He had somehow found out about their search and destroy mission and kept Nagini by his side at all times. When his forces started losing, he secreted her away into what could only be described as a fortress. They had infiltrated with a squad of 7 magicals and met significant resistance inside the building.

Harry had been reluctant to go inside. He had thought that bombarding it from the outside would have been a better option. Sadly, they needed visual confirmation of Nagini's death. If they simply destroyed the fortress from the outside, the chance of Nagini escaping in the chaos increased, and they couldn't let that happen. Destroying the Horcrux was more important than anything, as it would finally make Voldemort completely mortal once again.

After half an hour of cutting through Death Eaters and dismantling numerous wards and traps, they had managed to capture and kill the snake, only to be met with an ambush as they retreated. Voldemort had felt when they destroyed his final Horcrux and had arrived with an overwhelming number of Death Eaters.

Their team had been killed off one by one until he and Fleur were the only ones left. In an act of loving sacrifice, Fleur had banished him out of the fortress and brought the entire place down by casting Fiendfyre. HIs heard ached whenever he thought of her.

They had grown close after years of fighting together. She had started as an older sister figure, and somewhere along the way, she had become so much more than that. Harry had wanted to marry her when the war was over. He had gone so far as to secure a stunning diamond ring he had found in an abandoned jewelry store for when the time came.

Being her partner and lover had been one of the greatest experiences of his life. He remembered when they first started dating, how he became a love-struck fool whenever she was next to him. He had loved everything about her.

Her smile, her laugh, the way she would hold him when things got tough. She had become irreplaceable. When she died, a part of him died with her.

Tonks, one of the only surviving members of the Order had filled in the gap she had left in his heart. Their love had been a whirlwind romance. Mere months after losing Fleur, Harry had started recovering for the first time. He was becoming happy and started regaining hope, only to lose it all once again.

Tonks had been one of the best spies that MI6 had ever trained. Her natural talent as a Metamorphmagus had allowed her to get into Death Eater meetings undetected and glean critical information. The resistance had gotten wind that Voldemort had been planning something big, so Tonks was sent in to get intelligence about it.

The mission had been going well and Tonks had managed to learn what it was they were planning. She was about to leave when all the Death Eaters were asked to drink a potion. She had drunk multiple antidotes before attending the meeting, so she had complied to not draw suspicion. The potion turned out to not be a poison. It did, however, affect her Metamorphmagus powers.

She had shifted back to normal in a room full of Death Eaters and instantly knew that she was going to die. In a final act of bravery and duty, she bought herself enough time to send a Patronus with all the relevant information on Voldemort's plan back to resistance headquarters.

Members of the resistance had found her body in the center of the main square in Diagon Alley the next morning. The higher-ups had received her final Patronus and knew that she wouldn't make it. They didn't tell Harry immediately, so he wouldn't recklessly go running off on a rescue mission.

Seeing her dead body showing signs of brutal torture and sexual assault had broken something within Harry. This was the second woman he had loved whose life had been extinguished by the Death Eaters. After her death, he had fully embraced the darkness within him.

The memories of the torturous years he suffered under the yoke of the Dursleys, the betrayal of his friends and Dumbledore, and the death of Fleur came flooding back to him. That night, he had gone to train with Morgana and begged her to teach him everything she knew.

She was the greatest Dark Lady to ever live. Her knowledge of the Dark Arts was considered unparalleled in history. Gazing upon his lover's desecrated corpse had stripped him of any hesitation and sense of morality when it came to the war.

He would learn everything she could teach him and bring death and destruction to his enemies on a scale they never thought possible. He would make them suffer for all the pain they had caused.

Morgana had agreed and formally started their training in a Black Art, magic so Dark and ancient that most of the knowledge had been lost to time or purposely erased from history. Morgana had chosen the Peverell family specialty of Necromancy to be their main course of study. He found himself going deeper and deeper into the rabbit hole, but he also realized he never truly lost himself.

Despite the Dark magic he practiced, not once did his soul gain the typical stain that came with casting the spells. Morgana noticed it too and had taken it as a sign that Harry was meant to walk down this path. It was the only plausible explanation as to how the Dark Arts never affected him.

The higher-ups in Resistance Command had put together Tonks' final report into a briefing and invited nearly every active fighter in the resistance. Voldemort was going to summon demons to help bolster his army. The Death Eaters were losing too many fighters, and this was seen as the last resort.

Like most Dark Lords before him, Voldemort did not heed the numerous warnings regarding demonic summoning. More often than not, the wizards were unable to control their summons. This led to a whole host of problems that had potentially reality-destroying consequences. It was the precise reason why Demonology and any knowledge of Arcane Summoning were destroyed and outlawed from practice.

Harry had a glowing smile on his face as he reminisced on the day he fought demons for the first time. The crimson stains on his pearly whites made for an odd sight in the dimly lit square. Faced with those monstrosities, a person would have to be insane to think of them fondly. Yet that was exactly how Harry felt as he looked back on his career as a demon slayer.

They had given him a thrill that normal human targets simply didn't. He had likened it to big game hunting. The knowledge that your quarry could end your life violently if you made a mistake, got the adrenaline pumping as nothing else could.

That and a healthy hero complex, along with a blatant disregard for personal safety, had made him the best demon slayer in the world. Whenever there was a major problem, his squad was often tasked with getting the job done.

Despite his relatively young age, many saw him as a beacon of hope for humanity during dark times. He always felt that his childhood had helped forge him into the warrior and leader he eventually became.

It also helped that he had been trained by some of the most skilled and knowledgeable wizards in the world. After the fateful summoning, the ICW collaborated with the Muggle governments that were still functioning to form the International Demon Slayer Coalition (IDSC). It was a joint effort between magicals and Muggles to combat the demonic threat and protect the human race from extinction.

The demons had ravaged most of the world within a year and the death toll had progressed into the billions. What made their mission harder was the fact that there seemed to be no end to them. Since the first day Voldemort had foolishly summoned them, they somehow kept the portal open in perpetuity.

The more humans they killed, the longer the portal stayed open, which meant more demons could come through. At that point, it was no longer considered a portal, but a tear in reality. The energy from their dimension had started affecting the area around the gateway.

The world experienced the closest thing to an apocalypse as they could imagine. Entire cities of people were culled indiscriminately. Demonic blood poisoned the water and food supplies, leading to several millions of people dying due to accidental consumption.

They fought back as best as they could, with the IDSC forcibly drafting magical criminals into the Slayer squadrons under threat of death. Harry's squad, nicknamed the Archangels, had two such men in it.

First, there was Julius Laurent, French dueling extraordinaire turned mass murderer. The second was Gellert Grindelwald, the most powerful Dark Lord in recent history, who had supposedly reformed while imprisoned in Nurmengard.

Both men were extremely skilled and vicious when fighting. They proved to be great additions to his team, as other than himself, the others lacked any advanced magical training. His squad consisted of himself, Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, Susan Bones, Daphne Greengrass, and the two convicts.

With their instruction, the entire squad had benefited and each member had become powerful in their own right. Neville had utilized his knowledge of Herbology to become a master of poisons. Susan had been taken in by Julius as an Apprentice, leading her to become one of the deadliest witches in the IDSC.

Daphne's innate skill with Potions had allowed her to gain renown as a gifted combat medic. Luna had mastered her Mage Sight and studied Runes and Warding to become an exceptional Cursebreaker. However, if anyone were to ask who among them was the strongest, they would all immediately point to Harry.

His extensive studies in the Dark Arts along with all the rituals he underwent with Morgana's guidance, had made him one of the most powerful wizards in the world alongside Gellert and Voldemort.

The numerous blocks on his magic had forced his body to rapidly adapt to harsh conditions and improved his capacity to channel magic. That along with Fate's intervention had led to him becoming significantly stronger than most wizards could ever hope to be.

Along with his intensive training and skilled application of Necromancy in battle, he had earned the title of "The Black Lich". His enemies had given him this title after a harrowing rescue mission where he single-handedly fought off nearly 200 demons and 50 Death Eaters by progressively killing them and raising their corpses to fight for him. Sadly, this also meant that many people, including his allies outside his squad, became very intimidated by him.

The first time the IDSC had learned about it, they had loudly decried his actions. To them, the art of Necromancy was right up there with Demonology. They were designated Black Arts that were not to be used, no matter the circumstances.

Harry had tired of the political haranguing and had subsequently revealed his status as Prince Le Fay. That had gotten the IDSC to shut up, and led to them falling over themselves to accommodate him.

Over the years of operating together, the whole squad became family to one another. They had all lost whatever family they had originally had, so they found a new sense of belonging. This familial relationship was one of the reasons they had become so successful among the ranks of slayer squadrons. Every member unconditionally trusted their teammates, so their teamwork was able to reach a level few other squads could hope to emulate.

Gellert became the grandfather that gave wise advice and shared his vast knowledge of magic to those who asked for it. Julius took the role of the cool uncle that taught them all he knew about dueling and destructive spell chains. The rest of them treated each other like brothers and sisters, except if he was honest, his relationship with the girls went beyond that of siblings.

He had all but given up on love after Tonks' death. He knew deep down that he couldn't handle ever seeing another woman he loved end up like her and Fleur. Luna, Susan, and Daphne had taken a lot of time to steadily chip away at the emotional walls he had erected around his heart. They managed to break through one night during the IDSC's 4th Anniversary Ball.

Upon Gellert's insistence that he not ignore the girls simply because he was afraid of what might happen, he had gone and asked them to dance. They had given him brilliant smiles that seemed to light up the room.

As they danced the night away, he felt a sensation of lightness within him. His happiness along with the joy in the atmosphere made him forget all about the demons and Voldemort. He wanted to do nothing but be with the girls.

They had gone to a suite together and the night had been a long one for Harry. The morning after had been awkward, to say the least. He wanted to tell them it was a mistake, but the satisfaction and comfort he had felt made him rethink his decision. It was just how things ended up, and they could do nothing but move on.

In the field, they had to be professional and not let their emotions affect their decision making. They had talked about it, and the girls all told him they had no problem sharing. It was something to do with the attractive nature of the magic of powerful wizards. It reached out to and connected with any compatible witch and allowed them to bond as a group. Feelings of jealousy were all but negated by the magical bond.

He had thought that all the talk about bonds was fictional romantic bullshit, but apparently, he had been wrong. When compatible witches and wizards were physically intimate, their magic quite literally bonded on a subconscious level. The more they engaged in intimacy, the more they connected as a group. While not as exaggerated as in the novels, magical bonding could not be denied by either party once accepted.

He didn't care about all the minutiae though. He finally felt content and loved for the third time in his life. It had been such a great feeling that he hadn't even been prepared for what happened next.

During a routine reconnaissance mission, everything had gone so wrong. Voldemort had initiated a ritual to summon a Daemon Lord. It was the most foolish and insane thing Harry had ever seen him attempt, and he had told him so to his face.

Voldemort refused to see reason, and it had devolved into an apocalyptic scenario where if the abomination was able to cross over to their reality, the human race was doomed to extinction.

For a long time, Harry had occasionally met with a lady in black who was connected to him through the Elder Wand. She had helped him by giving him knowledge of spells that allowed him to turn the tide of battle whenever he was in a pinch.

Gellert had also mentioned meeting her when he wielded the wand, so Harry had guessed she was the spirit of the wand that had gained sentience over the centuries. Weirder things had happened before, and Ollivander had mentioned once about wands holding limited sentience.

After soaking the wand in a decent amount of his blood, he was able to purposely enter the white realm he usually found himself in by chance.

Opening his eyes, Harry saw the same white room he had always been dragged to. He looked around for the lady in black but didn't find her. Hesitantly, he decided to call out.

"Hello?"

"Welcome to the world in between, Harry Potter."

Harry let out a startled yelp as he threw himself forward and attempted to draw his wand. She had snuck up behind him without even a whisper. Almost like she had been there the entire time. A sibilant giggle echoed around the room as he found that the wands he kept on his person were not there.

"Relax, Harry Potter. No harm shall befall you in this realm. You are here to ask me for a favor, no?"

Harry didn't know what to expect. Usually, he would only hear the lady whisper in his ear and transfer the knowledge he needed. This was the first time they were having an actual conversation.

"I thought you were the spirit of the wand, but now I know you're more than that. Am I correct, Death?"

She smiled at him.

"You are correct, Harry Potter. I go by many names, but ultimately, I am simply known as Death. Now tell me, what is it that you seek?"

Harry thought for a second. What was it he truly wanted? Was it a way to stop the ritual? Or Voldemort? He wasn't sure at the moment. He knew that interrupting the ritual was what took priority at the moment. However, Voldemort was the ultimate problem in this war.

Once he fell, it would leave the horde without a purpose or any semblance of leadership. Then, it would be a simple matter of hunting them down and restoring and repopulating the Earth.

It made sense, but at the same time, his current problem was the ritual. Even if he had a chance to kill Voldemort, he needed to first stop the ritual. Hopefully, there would be a way to kill two birds with one stone. Clearing his throat, he started speaking.

"I am here to ask if you know a way of stopping the ritual and killing Voldemort."

The lady looked at him with a sly smile on her face.

"Oh? The knowledge you seek is quite powerful. Are you sure you are capable of handling it?"

Harry's face was set in grim determination.

"Whatever it takes. I need to stop this summoning and kill Voldemort. It's the only way we'll ever end the war."

"You are set on this course I see. I must inform you that what you are asking for will entail a powerful sacrifice from you. Magic on the level of fighting a Daemon Lord is beyond anything normal mortals can handle.

Fortunately for us, you are special. Your status as the wielder of my Hallows makes you uniquely qualified to deal with the consequences. Tell me. Are you willing to pay the requisite price, Harry Potter?"

Her dark voice made Harry shiver. The magic he would learn would most likely cost him his life, but he would have it no other way. If his sacrifice saved the rest of humanity, he would not hesitate.

"Yes. Be it my life, soul, or magic. I am willing to pay any price to save the billions of lives that depend on me."

Her smile became much more gentle as her onyx orbs gazed deeply into him. He felt as though she could see through his soul, which he didn't doubt was possible for her.

"You are sincere in your desire, Harry Potter. I will give you the knowledge you need. The rest will all depend on your luck and your willpower. If you fail, you will die a horrible death, and not even I could save you from the torment you will face.

Should you succeed, not only will you prevent the Daemon Lord from crossing over, but you could also potentially defeat Tom Riddle once and for all. It is a risky gamble. Are you willing to take the chance?"

Taking a deep breath, Harry's eyes glowed with power.

"Yes. No matter how small the chances, it is my duty to do whatever I can."

"So be it."

She walked over to Harry and placed her hands on his temples.

"This will hurt, Harry Potter. Bear the pain as the knowledge is transferred to you."

Harry readied himself. The knowledge transfers had never hurt him before, but if she told him this would specifically hurt, he was in for a world of pain. Before he could even react, he felt a burning sensation consume him. It felt as if his entire body was being roasted over a pit of Fiendfyre. The worst part was he couldn't move and he couldn't even open his mouth to scream.

Death was holding him in place as her eyes glowed eerily as she spoke some words he didn't understand. Just as soon as the pain started, it was soon finished. The moment she removed her hands, he collapsed onto the floor. His muscles spasming in pure agony as he rode out the pain of the transfer. He felt the world go black and he knew no more.

Through the help of an invocation ritual, Harry met Mother Magic herself and received the knowledge of a divine spell. Holy or divine magic was not something that mortals could hope to access without a costly sacrifice. It was only through sheer luck that Harry's soul was able to stay whole after casting it.

The problem was, that he wasn't strong enough to power the spell alone. Seeing this, all of his squadmates along with the reinforcements that had come to their aid willingly gave up every last bit of their power to fuel the spell.

He had successfully pushed the Daemon Lord back to its dimension, but all the other Slayers had died in the process. After an emotional conversation with a dying Gellert, who had somehow managed to hang on a little longer than the rest, he had fallen unconscious.

He didn't know how long he had been out for, but when he woke up, he was no longer on the battlefield. Once again, he found himself in a white room for the third time in one day. Maybe Magic wanted to talk to him. Maybe it was Death and she would tell him that he was officially dead. He honestly didn't mind at that point.

All of his loved ones were dead and there was nothing left for him. He didn't think he had shattered his soul from the ritual, but who knew when it came to such powerful magic. He looked around and waited for his host to arrive. He noticed that he was clothed in his battle robes, so most likely this was Death's realm, but the wear and tear were there, unlike the times she had summoned him into her realm.

"Excellent observation, Harry Potter. You are indeed not in Death's realm."

Turning to face the person who spoke, he saw a different being.

"To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking to?"

Harry was so emotionally drained that he couldn't give a damn.

"I see you are tired. Do not fret. Your time in this realm had completely repaired your body and soul. You are once again capable of fighting against your adversary."

Harry looked at her with a stoic expression on his face.

"You haven't answered my question."

A lady in blue stood in front of him with a complicated expression adorning her beautiful face.

"You have led a hard life, Harry Potter. You were dragged into a fight you did not start and have suffered the consequences of an old fool's actions. Albus Dumbledore sought to tamper with magic he did not understand, and so, it was my duty to punish him for his transgressions."

Harry had a look of pure loathing on his face as he stared at the woman in front of him.

"You're Fate, aren't you?"

Fate smiled sadly.

"I understand your anger towards me, Harry Potter. Your life has been affected by me more than most. What started as a balancing of the scales turned into a devastating war that has killed off most of humanity. It was never my intention for things to spiral like this. You were originally meant to have killed Tom Riddle permanently when he attacked you.

The Slytherin family magic should have eradicated his very being. His soul was not supposed to have survived through you. Unfortunately, when you were made powerful enough to face him, you also unintentionally became the only container that could hold his splintered soul fragment.

In being able to hold his soul, his other anchors were able to survive that night. One little shift towards balance has ruined your reality.

However, your battle has not finished. Tom Riddle has realized his folly and is now attempting to escape your dimension. He wants to rule the world and he cannot do that as the Daemon Lord has poisoned the magic of your reality."

Harry's eyes widened in surprise.

"Wait a second. I pushed back the Daemon Lord. Voldemort can no longer summon it again, so what taint are you talking about?"

Fate gently lifted her hand and a mirror materialized in front of Harry, showing the situation on the ground.

"Daemon Lords are among the top of the demonic hierarchy and their very presence tends to affect reality negatively. You successfully pushed it back through the dimensional tear, but it was able to latch on to the ground for enough time to infect the magic of your world.

As we speak, the taint has started to spread through the Ley lines and it will affect every remaining magical in the world. They will suffer sickness and all of them will perish as their bodies are stripped of magic.

This is the end of magic as you know it. Tom Riddle has realized what he has done and is now attempting a ritual to create a new dimensional tear so he can cross over to a different reality. He must not be allowed to succeed. So I will be dropping you near the entrance to Diagon Alley and you shall have to confront and stop him."

Harry bristled at her tone. She seemed to be commanding him to fight Voldemort when her actions are what led to the entire world going to shit.

"How can you stand there and tell me to go stop him?! You've taken everything from me! I don't even have anything to live for at this point. What more do I have to do to appease you?"

Fate looked at him in disappointment.

"I apologize for the role I have played in your life, Harry Potter. I can only hope that you do this so that humanity can survive. Even without magic, the Muggles, as you call them, can still survive and rebuild. Please do not let them all die unnecessarily."

He was mad. Scratch that. He was beyond mad at this point. He wanted nothing to do with Voldemort or Fate or whatever the fuck else was happening. At the same time, he could not ignore Fate's plea. All those people that were still alive were counting on him. They were innocents in this battle. They didn't deserve to die due to his selfishness.

"Okay. I just have to stop him, right? After this, you will not stop me from going to the Great Beyond?"

Fate's eyes glistened with unshed tears. Perhaps she could feel his hopelessness and his desire to finally meet his loved ones.

"Of course, Harry. Once you stop Tom Riddle, I will not prevent you from doing anything else. Whether you want to die or live will be up to you alone."

After hearing her answer, he nodded and gave his answer.

"Let's do this then. It's time I finish what he started."

Fate gave a bright smile as she walked over to him. Stroking his cheek, she said

"Go with my blessing, Harry James Potter. You are destined for far greater things than simply killing a Dark Lord. Hopefully, you will receive the love you crave in your next great adventure and build the life you so richly deserve."

Before he could ask what she meant by that, a bright light blinded him. In a flash, he found himself standing in front of the Leaky Cauldron. With resolute steps, he walked inside, preparing for the final confrontation.

Like every other selfish megalomaniac before him, Voldemort saw the devastation his failed summoning and the demons had caused to the world and decided that the best course of action was to run away.

Having been warned that Voldemort was attempting a ritual to cross over to another reality, Harry had not held anything back as he raced towards the ritual site. Voldemort had nearly finished when Harry had arrived with his wand blazing.

They had faced off for the final time, neither willing to back down. They pulled out all the stops and were willing to sacrifice everything to triumph. It was a true no holds barred fight and one that they both struggled in.

Both of them proved to be skilled fighters and the fight had been a long and intense one. If he had to make a comparison, it would be like the duel between Dumbledore and Grindelwald. Both men trying to kill the other, both magical titans representing their ideologies.

Harry had won by the skin of his teeth. With a well-timed distraction, he was able to skewer Voldemort and keep him in place long enough to nail him center mass with the Killing Curse. There was no coming back from that, even for him.

Still riding the adrenaline high from the battle, Harry had taken the time to inspect the ritual Voldemort had conducted. The most noticeable thing that told him how Dark the ritual was, were the bodies on the periphery of the runic circle.

13 women had been sacrificed to satisfy the horrendous requirements of the ritual. Crimson rivulets of blood flowed through channels on the ground to every part of the circle. Even though he was quite skilled in Runes and Rituals, Harry had no idea how this one functioned.

From what little he could tell it created a tear in space that would allow Voldemort to escape to another reality. However, there was a part of the circle that was undecipherable. The runes were ancient, possibly Babylonian in origin.

Their magic historically had a lot to do with the soul, but Harry was unsure of how this particular ritual involved the caster's soul. Furthermore, he was unsure of the caster's sacrifice. Surely such a Dark ritual would require something from the caster as well?

He walked close to get a better look when he felt wetness across his chest. Looking down, he saw droplets of blood, dripping from the edge of his battle robes. Before he knew what was happening, all his strength left him as he fell backward as a feeling of lightheadedness overtook him.

He coughed violently as the coppery taste of blood flooded his mouth. Slowly turning his head to the side, he spat out the blood as he struggled to take his next breath. He could feel the blood slowly draining out of his body from the multiple Cutting and Piercing Curses he had taken. His breath hitched a little as he waited for the end. It was near, he could feel it.

'It doesn't matter anyway. I stopped him, but it's too late for this world. Maybe he had the right idea, jumping to another one. If only…'

A bright red glow from underneath him caught him off guard.

'Huh? What the bloody hell is going on?!'

The glow grew brighter and brighter as the runic circle started to rotate around him.

'The ritual is activating?! I stopped it! How in Merlin's name is it continuing?!'

'You've got to be fucking kidding me' was his last thought as a blood-red light took over his vision. After that, all that was left was darkness.

As the ritual circle powered down and the tear stitched itself shut, a glowing light appeared in front of Harry's body. The light grew and formed into Fate. She saw Harry's body and sighed. She hadn't wanted things to get this far out of control, but it was all over now.

She felt a ripple as a cloaked figure stepped out of the void.

"Dear sister. What are you doing here?" she heard the newcomer ask.

"Death. I am simply confirming the demise of Tom Riddle. The mortal was a slippery one."

Death pulled down the hood and gave a feral smile.

"Don't you worry about dear old Tom. His soul has reached my domain and I am going to enjoy punishing him for his numerous transgressions. Maybe some hellfire would make for a nice warm-up."

Fate nodded with a distracted look on her face. She walked over to Harry's body and waved her hand over it, vanishing his robes and shirt. She was greeted by the sight of numerous deep cuts and holes still leaking blood, along with large bruises dotting his body. What came as a surprise to her, was what she didn't see.

"Death, come here."

Death frowned as she walked over to Fate.

"What?"

Fate pointed at Harry's chest.

"Your mark. The Hallows are gone. Did they return to you?"

Death furrowed her brows and concentrated. Her eyes widened as she replied.

"No. I can't feel them in my realm or anywhere else. I can't feel them at all!"

That was a cause for concern. The Deathly Hallows were imbued with the essence of Death herself. They were quite literally a part of her very being. They couldn't just vanish into thin air. Fate wasn't worried though, they were powerful, but not much more than regular ancient artifacts.

"It's okay. His destiny always was to go elsewhere. The old fool's actions did nothing but delay the inevitable."

Death was worried as she retorted.

"No, Fate. It's not okay. Those Hallows did not just have my essence in them."

Fate narrowed her eyes at her proclamation.

"What do you mean?"

Death spoke with a cautious tone.

"For the Elder Wand, my essence alone wasn't enough to power it. The potency of my death energy overpowered the magical qualities of the ingredients, so I approached our dear sister to donate some of her essence to balance out mine."

Fate's eyes widened ever so slightly.

"Are you telling me you imbued the very essence of Magic into the wand?"

Death chuckled nervously.

"When the Peverell brothers created the Hallows, they used an invocation ritual to summon me to the mortal plane to bless their artifacts. I knew that the only way they could have successfully invoked my presence would be if you needed it to happen. So I did whatever was necessary to allow the Hallows to wield my power."

Fate knew this would have some serious repercussions. Items that were crafted with the essence of Magic were powerful beyond belief and were more than capable of going against the laws of the universe. She started inspecting the runic circle to see if it could give them a clue to the Hallow's location.

"This circle requires 13 unwilling sacrifices to open the gateway and the caster must also sacrifice his blood and body for his soul to cross over. Harry was bleeding profusely when he died within the circle. Do you think he met the conditions to activate the ritual at the last minute?"

Death pondered for beat before carefully answering.

"If it did, then we're in trouble. From what I can tell you, this is the only reality where I approached Magic for her essence. Every other reality did not require it. If it's truly the case that Harry's soul was transported with the Hallows to another universe… the way they might affect the ritual's outcome is unpredictable.

Not to mention, Harry didn't give up his body, only his blood. Otherwise, there wouldn't be a body in the circle. The ritual would have used it to fuel the transfer and fix the dimensional tear."

Fate shook her head.

"So the soul transfer ritual was botched, but the Hallows might affect it in ways we don't know? All we can hope for is for Harry to activate them. That would be the only way we could meet him in whatever reality he ends up in."

"Sister? What is to become of this reality?"

Fate raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"It will take time, but the humans will eventually rebuild their societies and thrive one again. Why?"

"Due to the Daemon Lord, won't it be impossible for magic to exist again?"

Death seemed perturbed by the thought of there being no more magical creatures or wizards.

"Make no mistake, Death. Our sister is not so easily defeated. She will recover, no matter how long it might take. It could be decades, centuries, or even millennia, but she will recover. When she does, humans will once more start to receive her blessing."

Death nodded resolutely and looked at Harry's body one last time.

'Thank you for your sacrifice Harry. Even if it was your destiny to go to another reality, this one will forever be in your debt. Good luck. I hope your new life is a better one, and you activate the Hallows soon.'

She disappeared into thin air and silence reigned once again on the street.