Harry Potter Squib Tales Chapter 91: Hallowed Victory (Patreon)

Chapter 91: Hallowed Victory

“So, that’s the situation. Any questions?” I asked, looking at the group who’d gathered in my apartment.

Under the guise of a dinner party to celebrate Harry’s return from Hogwarts, my allies who were in the know about the Horcuxes had assembled, and after an excellent dinner made by Rainy, we all sat around the table as they digested both my food and my words.

I had decided to drop the bomb on them now rather than later, and wanted to know their opinions on what we should do next. And so, Harry, Sirius, Remus, Sam, Deliah, and the three Tonkses were staring at me or their glasses of after-dinner wine.

“So, you’re saying that the two path’s you’ve foreseen are either let things play out as they do in your original visions, which solves the problem short term, but will lead to even greater problems down the line, or we eliminate the final Horcrux now, and let Voldemort drag the world into a war that will lead to a better future,” Dora said slowly, skepticism audible in her voice.

“What sort of problems are we talking about, though?” Sirius asked me pointedly.

“I can only make educated guesses, but the first path, the Path of Ice, means that we eliminate the Death Eaters and Voldemort before they can reform their group, but it leads to nothing really changing in meaningful ways. The Purebloods stay in power, and the bigots in the Ministry continue to do everything they can to maintain the status quo even as the Muggle world gets closer to discovering them,” I explained.

This option had a bunch of scowls from the group pop up. They liked the idea of eliminating Voldemort and his goons, but not at the cost of letting a corrupt government continue to rule and make terrible decisions to the detriment of the magical world.

“Meanwhile, the Path of Fire will see another magical war erupt by destroying the Horcux now. Voldemort and the Death Eaters will find out and make their escape, dragging all of Magical Europe into conflict down the road. This will cause a lot of bloodshed, but will allow us to purge the corrupt forces within the magical community and allow us to better prepare for the inevitable discovery of the magical world by the Mundane populace,” I finished.

“Neither of those are pleasant,” Ed Tonks grumbled. “We let the Ministry keep running the country into the ground or we let a war sweep across the world in the hopes it cleans the slate. Both lead to terrible outcomes.”

“I suppose it was too much to hope that this situation could be resolved without bloodshed,” Andromeda groaned.

“Come off it, cuz,” Sirius scoffed. “We all knew that if Mr. Snakeface came back it would mean we’d have to pick up our wands and start cursing the masked bastards, because the Aurors would be completely useless.”

“Oi, I take offense to that!” Dora huffed, arms folding as her hair turned into an orange afro in outrage.

“How many Aurors would side with the Death Eaters if the Ministry decided to sit on the fence?” I asked her pointedly. “And if the Death Eaters somehow take over, how many would do whatever the Ministry tells them to do, even if it means rounding up ‘undesirables?’”

She glowered at that, not at all happy with my completely valid point.

“To make an informed decision, we need to take into account what the mundane governments will do,” Sam said. “If a war now means smoother integration in the future, then… shite, I hate to say it, but maybe that’s what needs to happen.”

“True. The Berlin Wall fell a mere five years ago, and the governments like the United States are still working off of a Cold War mentality. It would be for the best that the magical communities don’t give them a reason to use nukes,” I commented, agreeing with Sam.

“Are you both hearing yourselves?!” Dora demanded, looking between me and her girlfriend. “You want to start a war! Hundreds of people will die! It won’t just be Auror’s like me fighting, either, innocent people will get caught in the crossfire or get drafted!”

“I hate it as much as you do, Nym, but think about it,” Sam pleaded. “You don’t know the mundane world like I do! A war between magical and mundane will see the world burn! Get rid of the rot now by having a civil war amongst the magicals, and then we can strive to work together more closely!”

“He’s right, Nymphadora,” Ed Tonks said, siding with Sam.

“Ed!” Andromeda gasped.

“No, Andy, please, listen! There are billions of Muggles… I mean mundanes,” Mr. Tonks reminded her. “If they have to step in to sort out our messes, then it will become bloody. And everyone knows the Yanks love to meddle.”

“Think about what the Ministry is like right now,” Remus added. “We just barely avoided an anti-werewolf bill passing that would require all people who are like myself to be forcibly relocated to an ‘isolated reserve’ to ensure we won’t be a threat to anyone. We’d be treated as prisoners! And this topic will keep coming up so long as people like Umbridge are allowed to stay in power.”

“Agreed. I mean, the mundane governments aren’t perfect, but the Ministry of Magic sounds more and more backwards every time I heard something new about it,” Delilah spoke up.

“Still, war? That seems extreme,” Sirius spoke up, somewhat surprisingly. “I’m fine with killing Death Eaters, but provoking a continent spanning war isn’t… it seems like a waste. Why can’t we influence the Ministry without something like that tearing us apart?”

“Agreed! There are plenty of Purebloods who don’t think like Death Eaters! If we work with them, we can change things!” Andromeda added.

“And that’s the problem with that line of thinking,” Mr. Tonks spoke up, giving his wife a pitying look. “You’re looking at this through the lens of ‘only Purebloods can make decisions and change things.’ And that is one of the very problems that will cause friction with the mundane governments. Nobility and un-elected officials making all the choices hasn’t been popular for more than half a century in England and Europe. Longer, in some places.”

“Yes, that would make things difficult,” Delilah said, nodding her head.

“Harry, what do you think?” I suddenly asked him. He’d been silent the whole time, an intensely thoughtful look on his face, and I wanted to know what was going on in his head. “Your life is entwined in this matter as much as anyone else thanks to Moldy Shorts. What is your opinion?”

While the adults looked a bit put off at me asking for Harry’s thoughts, seeing him as just a child, I knew he was smarter and more insightful than many of his peers.

“I-I don’t know,” he admitted after a moment to think my question over. “I don’t know enough about the situation to make a decision. Part of me wants to just take out Tom and his minions, end it all then and there. No muss, no fuss.”

He sighed. “But then again, I’ve seen what the Ministry is like, even if it was just a brief glimpse of the surface. And I didn’t like what I saw. So many politicians doing nothing to help people and more concerned with favors and bribes, the suppression of Muggleborn, the sheer bloody incompetence… the ingrained corruption won’t be removed with a please and thank you.”

“Muggleborn aren’t oppressed in the Ministry!” Dora protested.

“At the award ceremony, I didn’t meet a single Muggleborn Ministry official,” Harry claimed. “There were none of them in positions of power. Not to mention the unsubtle comments about me overcoming my mother’s ‘low birth’ a few Purebloods made.”

The Metamorph winced at that as Harry shook his head.

“I suppose, though, that if I had to make a decision… it would be for the Path of Fire,” he finally replied. “I don’t like the idea of so many people getting hurt… of the death and pain and destruction that this will cause. I can’t even imagine it! But I agree with Ed, Sam, Remus and Mr. Tonks. It… it might be necessary. To ensure mages aren’t treated poorly in the future by the rest of the world. To ensure mages don’t end up being treated like I was by the Dursleys.”

At that, the people around the table winced. “There… surely there’s a better way!” Dora weakly uttered.

“Is there?” I shot back. “I don’t know if there is. At least, not one that doesn’t involve copious amounts of assassination, blackmail, and extortion.”

The Ministry of Magic had plenty of positions that were not hereditary, but the Wizengamot, which voted on the rules and laws that society had to follow, was very much a family business, and that made it harder to get things done since it would be hard to convince them to vote on reforms that would remove their power.

‘Not to mention the nepotism and cronyism that infest the bureaucracy of every strata of the government means that even if the Wizengamot passed reforms they’d keep Purebloods in power through sheer lack of inertia and upwards social mobility,’ I thought grimly.

“If we are going to decide the fate of the Wizarding World, then I want Amelia brought in on this,” Remus said abruptly, laying down his own ultimatum.

Such a thing caused a minor commotion, as Dora didn’t want her boss brought into things, same with Sam and Mr. Tonks. They feared she was too close to the problem to see it objectively. And I felt the werewolf just didn’t want to keep more secrets from her.

However, Andromeda and Sirius were onboard with his plan. Probably a hint of Pureblood bias going on, but I could also see the advantages of such a thing. Having somebody who was only one or two steps below the Minister in terms of power could be the difference between success and failure.

‘And if Amelia is brought in, then it might be necessary to have the Greengrasses read into the situation as well,’ I mused, and voiced this thought, to an expected amount of hesitation.

The argument continued long into the night, but in the end, Harry’s words swayed the rest. Perhaps it was a part of the Boy Who Lived mythos influencing them, or maybe they’d always known that the Path of Fire was the only option we could possibly take to ensure a better future, but the decision was finally made.

‘After all, the Path of Ice – eliminate only key targets, extend mercy to those undeserving of it, and hoping it never happens again while changing absolutely nothing – was the option Dumbledore chose in the first fight against Voldemort, and look how well that turned out,’ I thought spitefully.

And thus, the Path of Fire was the only option remaining that could possibly change things for the better, instead of acting like ostriches and hoping events would pass us by. We did not choose it lightly. The inevitable war would be on all of our hands after this. But what else could we do that hadn’t already been tried?

Additionally, Amelia Bones and Cyrus Greengrass would be given part of the puzzle. They’d be told about Voldemort, his Horcruxes, and my seer abilities to explain it all away. Mention of my Muggle industrial endeavors would be kept secret for now.

Nobody was happy with everything, but that was the nature of a compromise. We got most of what we wanted in the end, though.

The final Horcrux (Nagini didn’t count as I wasn’t sure if she’d been turned into one yet) would be destroyed. It was time to remind Voldemort that all things have a time to die.

111 &&& 111

 “You must be joking,” Cyrus said, the head of House Greengrass staring at me as if I’d tried to make a funny joke but failed.

Seated next to him, Madam Bones was drilling Remus with a glare that had the poor guy shrinking in his chair.

“Afraid not,” I said, taking a sip of tea. We were all seated at a table in my apartment a couple days after the big discussion.

On my side of the table were Harry and Remus, the duo sitting on the right and left of me, respectively. Across from us were the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and the spokeswizard of the Wizengamot’s latest political block, the Gold Faction.

Both were ignoring the delightful tea I’d set out for them. Well, actually, it was Dobby who’d done it, but still. Quite rude to let it go cold.

Right now, we were all digesting dinner. I’d invited the duo over for a private discussion, and we’d all eaten a lovely roast with gravy. Neither Bones nor Greengrass had been expecting the reveal I’d told them after a light and fluffy souffle for dessert, and were still trying to process everything.

“You expect me to believe that, that You Know Who is not only alive, but he created SIX bloody Horcruxes to do so?!” he demanded angrily.

Madam Bones twitched angrily at the mention of those horrid creations, but didn’t let up on her glare.

I wasn’t surprised to hear that both of them knew of this particular brand of Dark magic. Their houses were old, with their own skeletons in the closet and archives no doubt full of forbidden secrets. Hell, I’m pretty sure the reason Madam Bones knows what they are is because one of her ancestors had made a Horcrux! They had been necromancers in the distant past, after all.

Instead, I simply gestured at the objects lying on the table in front of them: the ruined Diadem of Ravenclaw, and the charred remains of Slytherin’s Locket. We didn’t have the Diary or the Goblet anymore, Dumbledore and the goblins having confiscated what was left.

Harry also lifted his bangs, revealing his altered scar. And with the Ring still locked away… yeah, six Horcuxes was a lot, especially with Nagini being an unknown factor still.

“I had heard… rumors of such a thing,” Madam Bones finally admitted. “Those who work closely with Gringotts, and were brought on to inspect the Chamber of Secrets were… loose-lipped. But they remained that. Mere rumors.”

Shen then switched her glare to me. “But if you knew of this, why didn’t you bring this up to the proper authorities?!”

“Can you blame us?” I asked, unphased by her stink-eye. “The Ministry has a bad track record with… anything, really. And with Death Eaters still free and bribing everyone this way and that… it was deemed safer to do it this way.”

“It’s worked, too,” Harry piped up, only flinching a little when Madam Bones looked at him. “We managed to get rid of most of Voldemort’s Horcruxes.”

“That’s the other thing,” Cyrus said, tapping a finger against the rim of his teacup. “The way you found this all out is questionable as well. You? A seer?”

“I know, it’s hard to believe,” I said with a shrug. “But I’ve proven my credentials, haven’t I?”

I’d rolled the dice and done some other Divination to show off my abilities, plus let them in on secrets I couldn’t possibly know.

For Madam Bones, I’d told her about the layout of the Department of Mysteries, something I shouldn’t be aware of at all, as well as the fact Lucious Malfoy hid some Dark artifacts under the floorboards in a certain room of his manor. To convince Cyrus, I’d had to dig a bit deeper into my bag, but letting him know about the Tri-Wizard Tournament, something he only knew about due to his position in the Wizengamot and through his trade deals, had helped a little.

“Those parlor tricks were far too accurate to be the work of a Seer,” Bones retorted. “I don’t know how you know all of that, but it’s not because you have the Sight.”

“Are you so sure about that?” I responded.

“There’s also the matter of your status,” Cyrus pointed out. “A Squib has never been confirmed to be a Seer.”

“Well, as it turns out, I’m not actually a Squib,” I declared, taking another sip. “It’s just that my oracular abilities were too strong, and I cannot use wand magic as a result.”

I wasn’t lying about my Squib-ness, not anymore thanks to the ritual, but I still couldn’t use wands, so this was a convenient excuse. Seeing the two of them gain thoughtful looks made me smile.

According to Flamel’s notes, true Seers were generally far weaker in magic than most mages. Still strong enough to use wands, but barely. Professor Trelawny was a perfect example of this. She barely used a wand in the books, save for a moment in the 7th when she’d been dropping crystal balls on Death Eaters.

By explaining the lack of a wand and Hogwarts education as a result of my Farsighted abilities suppressing my regular magic, it allowed me to better insert myself into the Wizarding World, and get the two Purebloods on my side. They, like Sirius and Andromeda, still had their biases, so I was working with those to get them to believe me.

“If you are telling the truth, then this is incredibly serious,” Madam Bones said darkly. “If I had known sooner…”

“You’d have been able to do nothing,” I replied, cutting her off. “Fudge has already cut the Auror’s budget several times since the end of the last war, and him and his cronies want nothing that might ruin their beloved ‘peace.’ Not to mention Malfoy and the other Death Eaters benefit from a weakened peacekeeping department. Worst case scenario, you’d have been canned if you tried to convince that potbellied buffoon of Voldy’s return.”

The truth hurt, and she grimaced at my words, unable to refute them.

“I could have sent Aurors to watch Crouch, or gone after his son-!” she tried to protest instead, but I shook my head.

“Not without tipping them off you were onto their scheme,” I said.

“Still, a war?” Cyrus asked, desperately hoping for it not to be the case. “Another one in less than two decades?”

“It’s the only way,” I claimed solemnly.

“The world won’t change unless it’s forced to do so,” Harry added. “I hate it as much as you do, but what else is there? I trust Ed. He hasn’t steered me wrong yet.”

“We are planning on destroying the final Horcrux soon,” I informed the duo, offering an olive branch. “Come with us, and see it for yourself.”

The duo shared a look, before nodding slowly.

“When?” Amelia asked.

I checked my wristwatch. “Now, if you wish,” I announced. “The original plan was for a midnight operation, but it’s late enough there should be no witnesses about.”

They blinked, not having expected that, but I didn’t want them to leave, get cold feet, or bring onlookers with them who might spill the beans.

We’d planned to eliminate the Horcrux tonight, with or without Bones and Greengrass, but having them be there would be a great way to prove our sincerity.

“Let’s go, then,” Cyrus said, draining his teacup to fortify his nerves. “Are we Aparrating or going by Floo?”

“I have anti-Aparation wards around the building, and it’s not hooked up to the Floo Network,” I said, not trusting either method at all. “We’re going by Portkey.”

I stood up, still holding my teacup. “The password is ‘Snake Eater.’”

At that, I vanished, and went from my cozy apartment to the cool countryside, the stars twinkling overhead. A couple seconds later there were more pops as the rest came through, blinking a bit at the change in light levels.

Inky and Dobby, sensing our departure, would be sending the messages about our change in plans right now, and as I expected, a minute later the entire conspiracy had gathered together for this monumental event.

“Bit earlier than expected,” Delilah said in a slightly scolding tone.

“Sorry, but I saw an opportunity and took it,” I replied, gesturing to the two newcomers. Poor Dora was cringing under Madam Bones’ glare, and Sirius was awkwardly chatting with his fellow Pureblood and member of the Gold Faction.

“Fair enough. Now, why are we in front of a rundown shack?” she asked, something that the rest all wanted to know, if the way they quieted down and turned to me was any clue.

“Welcome to Little Hanglington! And behold! The Gaunt Manor,” I said mockingly, introducing the decrepit building. “Home of the Gaunts, the last House directly descended from Salazar Slytherin himself.”

“They’ve fallen on hard times,” Cyrus muttered, eyeing the place.

“They’re extinct,” Bones stated. “The last living member of the House was sentenced to Azkaban for murdering Muggles and then died there decades ago.”

“Not entirely true,” I informed them. “See, this is where a young girl named Merope Gaunt was born, and lived most of her life. She was a Squib, but she was also in love with a nearby rich, young dandy named Tom Riddle. Of course, He didn’t love her. Didn’t know she existed at all.”

I raised a finger. “So one day, she brewed a love potion.”

“I see where this is going, but not the point,” Andromeda muttered.

“She drugged poor Mr. Riddle, and conceived a child in a scandalous, whirlwind romance that shocked the sleepy town. Of course, since the fumes of a love potion can harm a fetus, she stopped making it and was unable to keep dosing her lover. He was soon freed and left her, and since her own family had kicked her out for the ‘sin’ of bedding a Muggle, she was forced to pawn her belongings and sell herself to make ends meet.”

I shook my head. “Didn’t matter, in the end. She died giving birth to Tom Marvelo Riddle Jr. in the bed of an orphanage. Or, as the world would know him…”

I pulled out an Ofuda and tossed it into the air. Magical flames formed letters, which made the name, before rearranging themselves just as had been done in the Chamber of Secrets.

Gasps rang out from Amelia Bones and Cyrus Greengrass. The rest were already aware of this secret, but seeing it like this really drove it home how pathetic his portmanteau had been.

“He who would be Voldemort was named shortly before his mother died, and he grew up in the orphanage. The rest of his youth is of little concern, but know he grew up cold, spiteful, and cruel. And one day, he learned of his heritage as the last true Heir of Slytherin and unleashed the Basilisk fifty years ago in Hogwarts. That was when he made his first Horcrux using the death of Myrtle Warren.”

I sighed. “He didn’t stop there. Years later, he confronted his uncle, Morfin Gaunt. He stole the Gaunt Family Ring, then turned it into a Horcrux by murdering his own father and the entire Riddle Family. Afterwards, he Imperiused Morfin and Oblivated him, making the poor bastard think he was responsible for the deed. Then, after his uncle was carted away, Tommy boy hid the Horcrux here, in the place his mother was born.”

I waved a hand at the building. “That’s why we are here. To destroy the Horcrux hidden within. Best to burn the whole place down, honestly. Some nasty curses are in there to trick and trap anyone foolish enough to enter. Sirius? Remus? As we planned.”

The two walked up and began casting spells. First, they set up wards to redirect attention and block sound. Then, they started forming a large, earthen dome around the shack. Only two small holes were left open: one at the top, like a chimney, and another at the front, facing the door.

Without needing another word from me, they pointed their wands at that opening, and uttered “Pestis Incendium!”

Tongues of Fiendfyre in the form of griffons, dragons, and manticores shot forth before Amelia or Cyrus could do or say anything, and they struck the entrance of the shack. A hissing scream echoed forth from the undead snake nailed to the door, and it soon turned to ash, ending its cry.

The rest of the building quickly caught fire, and Sirius and Remus both raised more earthen walls to block off the front hole and surround the cursed flames so they couldn’t spread.

Fiendfyre could devour anything, even magic, but just like regular fire it took a while to burn through solid stone and packed barricades of dirt. It could even burn out once it ran out of oxygen to fuel it. Although water couldn’t extinguish it, depriving the cursed flames of oxygen was the only mundane way to stop the spread.

A couple minutes later, as we were watching sparks and smoke spew from the hole at the top of the dome, a horrific, deathly wail tore through the air, setting everyone’s teeth on edge. A black wisp, darker than the smoke around it, began to rise into the sky, illuminated by the moon.

It writhed, trying to do something, anything, to escape its fate, but after a moment the dark cloud collapsed in on itself, vanishing forever. Yet even though it was dead and gone, its presence had left its mark.

“That… that was a Horcrux,” Amelia uttered in a shaky voice.

“Sure was,” I said grimly. “Remus, Sirius, cover it up.”

They nodded and plugged the hole on the top and reinforced the dome by piling more earth onto it. In a few hours the Fiendfyre would be extinguished completely, only ash remaining of the Gaunt’s domain.

‘When Voldemort comes back, he is definitely going to notice,’ I thought with a grimace.

He might not check up on his Horcruxes, but he’d need to come to this place to steal his father’s bones for his ritual. Odds were him or his minion would notice the lack of a shack, and then he’d panic and try to look for his other Horcruxes, discovering the deception. There was always the chance he wouldn’t notice. But I wasn’t going to bet on that.

‘It could be a good thing. He might panic and start creating more to try and make back-ups, and go over the limit, further destabilizing his soul. Doing so might even kill the snake-faced bastard. But I can’t count on that,’ I thought.

I decided to just roll with it for now. And curse the bones of Tom Riddle Senior to ensure that his resurrection would go poorly. Yeah, that was the best course of action.

Amelia and Cyrus were still shaken, and even the other witches and wizards looked stunned that their mission went well, and that Voldemort had been dealt a major blow.

On the other hand, Sam and Delilah looked pleased everything had gone well without any incidents, while Harry had a vicious, vindictive grin.

“Well, that was fun, wasn’t it?” I said, clapping my hands to get their attention. “I think we all deserve something sweet. Lemon Drizzle Cake and tea is on me!”

We all went back to my penthouse suite for a late night, post-mission victory party. And yes, the cake and victory were both delightfully sweet.

Best of all? Amelia Bones and Cyrus Greengrass decided to join up with our little conspiracy. It was a good day. But it wasn’t over quite yet.

‘I still have one more thing to do,’ I thought to myself as I bid my guests goodbye for evening, leaving just me and Harry alone in the apartment. Soon, though. After I tucked Harry into bed.

111 &&& 111

There was a pop, and once more I was back in Little Hanglington. It was well past midnight, the witching hour to be precise, which I found quite fitting, and everyone else was asleep or at their own homes.

“Is it gone?” I asked Inky, my loyal House Elf at my side.

“Yes, Master Eddy,” he said.

I nodded. “Good. Make a hole, please.”

Inky snapped his fingers, and a part of the giant dome fell apart, allowing me to see inside. The Fiendfyre was indeed done burning, not even embers left.

Walking inside, my boots crunching on the ashen remains, I headed to the center and began to blinding sift through the soot, a single Lumos Ofuda providing light over my shoulder.

Finally, after a few minutes of searching, I found what I’d been looking for: a black stone, with a few white marks upon it: a single line inside of a circle which was itself inside of a triangle. I swallowed, cradling the tiny stone in my hands, and rose, walking out of the dome.

“Inky, close it,” I requested. “Then leave me for a bit.”

My House Elf sealed the dome back up, making it so none would know it had been opened, and then he left me alone with a pop.

Staring at the stone that was utterly pristine despite the cursed flames that had surrounded it earlier, I suddenly felt nervous. This was reckless. Foolish. An idea I’d had for years. But now that it was finally in my hands… I hesitated.

‘You can do it, Ed,’ I thought softly. ‘I can… I can do this! All you have to do is turn it three times.’

Taking a deep breath, I turned the stone over thrice, before uttering the name of the spirit I wished to commune with.

“Death.”

For a moment, nothing happened, and I wondered if perhaps it hadn’t worked. But then a chill ran down my spine, and everything suddenly seemed muted. Colors dimmed, the wind stopped blowing, and I couldn’t shake the feeling of somebody peering over my shoulder.

“H-hello?” I called out.

“Hello, child,” something replied, and I stiffened. The voice was old and young. Man and woman. Hispanic, Chinese, British and a thousand other accents and ethnicities rolled into one. All whispering in my ear.

“I must say, I did not expect to ever be summoned by you… or by anyone, really. Not after those three brothers,” the voice of Death admitted, causing goosebumps to cover my arms.

Something touched my shoulder, and I felt like it would be a very bad idea to try and look at it.

“I-I have questions,” I said, trying to find my courage. “And I was hoping you might answer them.”

“Hmmm… very well. I suppose I can grant you this boon for being the first soul to ever try to call upon me this way,” Death replied. “But only three! So ask wisely.”

I licked my lips. This was better than I’d hoped, but also not nearly enough to satisfy me. Still, I’d never have a better chance, and began to arrange my thoughts, trying to phrase my limited questions to get the best outcome.

“Why did you reincarnate me with all of my memories?” I finally queried. It was the one question I’d had ever since I realized just what had happened.

“I found your soul traveling through the Spaces Between,” Death informed me. “How you got there, I have no idea, but you slipped through the cracks, so to speak, and were unable to reach your designated afterlife. And considering the size of Creation, or the Multiverse as you know it, there was no easy way I could find out where you originated from. Not without invasive and destructive methods of inquiry your soul likely wouldn’t survive.”

Though I couldn’t see it, I somehow knew Death had shrugged. “As for why I saved you and granted a second chance with all of your memories? I might be Death, but Life is still precious. To allow a precious spark of Creation to fade in the Void would be a terrible thing to allow to happen. So, I slipped what was left of you into the stillborn body of Erroneous Hunch Junior. Your soul needed time to settle, which is why it took three years before your previous memories began to appear.”

A chuckle that echoed through my very soul rang out. “Though I admit I was surprised to discover your world knew of mine. Not impossible, given the nature of the multiverse, but still interesting to watch how you have changed the path it should have originally taken. That is why I left your memories intact. Curiosity, and nothing more.”

I took a shuddering breath at that. ‘So, it was all just a mistake. Happenstance. There was never a greater purpose.’

In an odd way, that was actually a relief to hear. There was no grand destiny for me to fulfill, no Fate I had to fight against. I was me, and everything I’d done was because I’d chosen to do so.

That didn’t mean I had no worries, though, so for my next question, I decided to find out more.

“Am I doing the right thing?” I asked. Was the path I was leading Harry and the others down the right one?

“A question with no real answer, I am afraid,” Death replied, sounding apologetic. “Right? Wrong? For whom? Who decides this? I am Death. I am the end. I am reviled, but also inevitable. I cannot exist without Life, so does that make existence evil for allowing Death to exist?”

Another ethereal chuckle rang out from the twilight around me. “But that doesn’t answer your question, does it?”

For a moment, more silence, then finally Death responded. “What you are doing will lead to several potential outcomes. One is the extinction of all Life upon this world. Those with and those without will clash, and destroy each other. Another is the Death of Magic itself, and Science will reign supreme with mankind seeking the distant stars. There is also the chance that Magic will be victorious, and the mundane will be drowned beneath a resurgence of spirits as the Veil breaks, allowing the Old World to return. But just as equally possible is Magic and Science walking hand in hand into the future.”

“I believe it is the latter outcome you desire,” Death mused, the millions of voices sounding oddly excited. “And while I cannot interfere, I must admit, that is the one that appeals the most to me. So, yes, child, I do believe you are on the right path, even if it is paved in blood and bones and hardship for you and others.”

I almost asked ‘why’ but held my tongue, not wanting to waste my last question. Even so, I couldn’t help but wonder what Death wanted from a world where magic and science were united.  

Silence fell once more, and a couple minutes passed before I figured out what I wanted my final query to be.

“How can I create a Philosopher’s Stone quickly, cheaply, and easily?” I asked. It wasn’t the real question I wanted to know, but all of the other inquiries I’d desired to make were too difficult to utter, or too stupid.

‘Was it possible to return to my old world and life?’

‘Could I commune with the spirits on the other side of the Veil?’

‘What is the meaning of life?’

‘Is God real?’

So many questions, yet none of them were good enough to be asked. In the end, I settled on something that was simple, but necessary for me. I could eventually find a way to create the pinnacle of Alchemy through Flamel’s notes, but I feared it would take years I did not have.

I was running a bunch of businesses that were going global, and helping out with a secret conspiracy to save the Wizarding World! I did not have the time to waste! So, if there was a way to have the most important thing all of my plans required given to me right now, then I’d spend my last question willingly for it.

Death, it seemed, found my query to be most amusing, if the mirthful laughter it let out was any clue.

“So selfless,” Death said fondly. “I know this is not what you wanted to ask, but you still do so in order to help others. I do not hate that.”

Something pressed against my back, and I felt hands caress my cheeks. Eventually, Death leaned in and whispered the secrets of Alchemy into my ear, and I finally knew what I needed to create a Philosopher’s Stone.

“Thank you,” I murmured, bowing my head.

“You may continue to use my Stone for as long as you wish,” Death said, and I felt a hand pat my head. “However, do not summon me again. Not unless you are finally ready to begin your next Journey.”

With that blessing and warning given, I felt Death receded. The stars and moon returned to their full brightness, and the wind began to blow once more.

I shuddered and collapsed to my knees, tears spilling down my face. I didn’t know why I was crying, exactly. Perhaps it was the relief of knowing some of the question’s I’d longed for. Maybe it was due to meeting an entity on a much higher order of existence than myself. Whatever the reason, I wept, letting the tension seep out of my body.

It took a while, but I eventually recovered. Calling for Inky to take me back home, I just wanted the day to finally be over.

‘At least I get to keep the shiny rock,’ I thought with bit of amusement as I tucked one of the Deathly Hallows into a drawer on my nightstand. I’d figure out what to do with it later.