"I am not dead," I said—it was neither a question nor a pleading, just a simple statement.
"I know," he said and I could feel a vicious smile forming on his face. "Tell me old friend, do you know why you are here?"
"The Horcrux?"
"No, definitely not the Horcrux," he said with a cruel amusement, shaking his head. "We once made a pact."
"A pact?" I asked curiously, tilting my head. "We did? I don't remember…"
"Well… it wasn't exactly you who made the pact… It was Ignotus." He explained, his hand lightly tapping the ground with his scythe, almost instinctively.
We just stayed silent in the white, dreamy station for a while. I heard a shrill cry and turned to see what it was. My eyes widened as my eyes fell on something I had seen once before—
"Ah— Riddle's soul… a barely worthy leech of eldritch and soul magic… An abomination." Death said and I felt a small chill go up my spine as I gazed at the floating shriveled and wrinkled baby, covered in dark gloomy smoke and magic.
"Why am I actually here? What was the pact?" I asked after a few minutes of silence, staring at the Divine being's cloaked face, somewhere where I presumed his eyes would be.
The being stopped tapping his scythe and looked at me. He released his hand from the scythe's handle and the weapon stayed standing on the ground. He lifted both his hands—his black robes slipping a little as he did so, revealing his white, ghastly, wrinkled and bony hand—and in a slow, awe and chill-inducing fashion, slipped his face out of the cloak.
His face was terrible—eldritch. It looked like a mixture of dementor's and Voldemort's face, but a thousand times worse. It was gray and dull, wrinkled and bony. His eyes were a swirl of black and gray with no iris or pupil. I could feel the deathly magic emanating from his body. I felt insignificant.
After slipping his face, he moved his right hand to hold his scythe again, while his left hand hung relaxed, in a calm manner.
"You… Or let's say… you in a distant past had two brothers…" He started, his lips moving in a menacing way as he spoke, "You must know them… You know the Deathly Hallows."
"Death is but… The next great adventure…" I murmured the words I had once heard from a wise old—dead—man.
Death chuckled… a guttural sound echoed. "Not always, my old friend… Not always." He sighed lightly. "Even death has to bow to fate… the eldest of the divine, only young to the universe itself… and death to her… is just a game."
"What do you mean?" I asked. I oddly didn't feel fear… In fact I almost felt free… Worst case scenario, I would die… best case i would be Horcrux free back in the chamber.
"Have you heard of Delphi?" Death asked, "From the old Greek tales?"
"... The oracle?" I wondered, confused as to what relation the old tales of Greek Myths had with the current conversation. "The one which gave prophecies and foretold the future?"
"Yes… And the Oracle of Delphi was the true prophet of the last age, the age of young Gods…" He said with a faraway look, "She was only present for a few decades… But she foretold the future of the entire age… And the oracle of this age was Eveline…"
His words flowed in the air like cold winter gales, chilling and heavy. 'Eveline… Salazar's wife.' I thought grimly. She foretold the prophecies of the entire age… but in Slytherin's Journal… I was the last name…
"Yes… You are the last recipient of the last Prophecies of this age…" Death spoke, almost as if reading my mind… In a cold tone he spoke, "And you failed the Prophecy with your death in 1999."
I flinched at the cold words, darkness almost started covering the white place… But just as quickly as the darkness came, it vanished.
"Fate doesn't like to be played… I didn't send you back… Fate did…" Death gritted, his face looking more vicious than before. "And this time you shan't fail, OLD FRIEND."
A tense silence fell between us. I didn't know what to say… In fact I didn't even know half the stuff that had just transpired. I was shocked by his anger. Finally I mustered some courage.
"Why call me old friend?" I asked.
A small nostalgic smile fell on his lips, almost looking foreign on his scarred grim face, "You greeted me like an old friend… Ignotus…"
"I was… the youngest Peverell brother?" I asked and he nodded in affirmation.
"You were, old friend, you were." He sighed and looked at his scythe, twirling it. "You have no idea what you are supposed to do…" He muttered, almost groaned. "Just a 19-year-old in a 14-year-old body… You will fail again, and the loop will happen again…"
"Loop… You mean I will return to my 14-year-old self if I fail?" I asked, surprised. "But what am I supposed to do? What did I fail?"
"You are Harry James Potter, the last of the last… You are supposed to conclude all the mishaps of your entire age… You have to do what the man who concluded the last age did, what that man from Israel did."
I blanched, shocked and utterly flabbergasted, "You don't mean… Like what?"
"Not start a religion of course… That's a little overboard… And unnecessary… Just conclude all the mishaps of your age," He cleared up, seeing my expression, as if clearing up all the mishaps of an entire age would be a walk in the park. "Until you don't conclude everything… The next age can't begin…"
"Okay… No pressure…" I muttered, almost scathingly. "What does last of the last mean… Didn't Slytherin call himself the First of the Last in his Journal?"
"I see you caught that… Good." Death patted my head lightly with the flat of his 10-foot-tall scythe, making me flinch. "You are supposed to be the last magical Titan of the last age of Gods… You are in the last age of Divine interventions…"
'A Magical Titan?' I thought. That's a big title… that's in the leagues of Dumbledore, Voldemort, Grindelwald and Merlin… "And what stuff am I supposed to do to conclude this age?"
Death looked at me, almost judgingly and then his eyes glowed black and gloomy… He spoke, "Before the dawn of the new age, before the turn of the Millennium, destroy the souls of the damned, trapped in the body of ghouls called dementors, destroy the self proclaimed lord of darkness, Voldemort, Destroy my three Hallows, rendering them null by destruction, and most importantly close the doors of hell, situated underneath Azkaban…"
Slowly the glow in his eyes dimmed and then he slammed the butt of his scythe in the ground. "So old friend, can you do all that before your twentieth birthday?" He asked, his voice deathly low.
"I— I will…" I spoke, comprehending everything he had said…"I will do my best."
"Good… do your best, Old Friend," He spoke, his voice now soft. "You have made great progress already… freeing yourself from the soul shard so early…"
He turned, walking away towards the bright light with the infant shriveled soul of Voldemort. He turned his face back one last time and spoke, "Even if you fail, you will just be teleported back again… it's up to you… do it in one try, ten tries or a million. You will always find me at the end of each road… Because death is eternal… and you made a pact with it… a promise to embrace it like an old friend…"
Slowly his silhouette got lighter and lighter until his black figure disappeared in the eternal white plane. Slowly the white King's Cross station glowed, until I was consumed by white light… and then I felt a single finger being pressed on my forehead.
My eyes opened… I hadn't even known that they were close… And I saw the grimly sadistic, fear inducing face of death. I panicked and my heart stopped in fear at the sudden close proximity to the being…
"Live long Harry…" He whispered, green smoke emanating from his mouth as he spoke, "You have been touched by Fate and Death"
And then I felt excruciating pain where his finger grazed my forehead. He pushed his finger and I felt myself being slammed back until… I hit the Basilisk's scales, my back hitting it with a loud thump and my eyes opened.
I was back in the Chamber.
My entire body was covered with sweat. I brought my hand up to wipe the sweat from my forehead, and as my fingers grazed the signature lightning bolt scar, I felt free… No soul shard. I concentrated on my core, on my magic and blood and realized that I had no dark residue… I didn't need any cleansing ritual… I can learn without any constraints now.
What Death had spoken played in my mind like a music on loop. So many things i had to do… So many mysteries… So many responsibilities… I quickly casted tempus and realized that no time had passed during my conversation with Death… More determined than I had ever been, I stood up.
"I am Harry James Potter: The Last of the Last."
I picked up my wand. I had free time right now, but in the grand scheme, I had none. No rest for the wicked—It's time to train.
The loss of soul-shard, that had been stuck in my forehead, proved to be a great boon. My magic now flowed more freely, more smoothly. The potency of my wand-work greatly increased, and I even felt physically better. The Horcrux had really been draining me quite thoroughly.
"Harry, what are you doing?" Hermione asked, looking at me tinkering with a small golden ring with wavy design. Today was Sunday, and therefore it was impossible for me to read Salazar's diary or do some serious training. After all, both Hermione and Ron were free today… and so, I decided to work on some minor projects of mine, the ones which I could risk showing Hermione and Ron.
With one hand I was holding a magnifying glass while with the other, I was writing small inscriptions and runes on the ring's inner side using a rune's quill— one with a very fine tip.
"Just a personal project," I muttered while lightly rotating the ring so I could inscribe runes there too. "A ring to store items,,,"
"A ring to store items?" Ron asked in confusion, while Hermione just got even more curious.
"You know… like those bottomless bags…" I spoke while carefully inscribing the ring's inner wall. "But a ring and being able to summon stuff instantly…"
"Wait… that's possible?" Hermione asked, her jaw dropping a little. I didn't look up, instead keeping my attention on the ring.
"Theoretically… at least according to what I could find so far in books…"
"That's amazing… That would be sooo useful…" Hermione's eyes lit up, as if Christmas had arrived early.
"Yeah… I have been working on it for a while… only the last few steps are left…" I spoke and then added, "I will give it to Professor Babbling to get it checked before using it."
"Let's go to the Great Hall— I am starving," Ron groaned…
I gave the Ring to Professor Babbling on Wednesday. Her astonishment and happiness was so high that I could swear that her eyes were twinkling. She gave so many praises when I showed her how it worked. I told her that the ring worked but I wanted her to reevaluate it and she told me that she would return it by next week.
It was the worst day of the week, Friday. And there was only one reason for that— Double potions with Slytherins. Our charms class had just ended and Hermione was berating Ron on why he couldn't cast the summoning spell… Apparently he hadn't spoken the incantation properly—A bunch of bullshit in my opinion. The only thing that mattered in spell casting was focus, intent, imagination, outcome and magic. If all of these are done correctly, you can always ignore the incantation.
Cedric Diggory walked past us, surrounded by a large group of simpering girls. I internally sighed, happy that nothing like this was happening to me.
"Thank goodness…" I muttered, "I would kill myself if i was followed like that…"
"Uhh… Harry… You kind of are…" Hermione hesitates while saying.
"What?"
"Yes," Ron deadpanned.
"No I am not…" I defended myself.
"Yes you are… at least when in class or in the Great Hall…" Hermione said and added, "Also in the corridor," to prove her point she turned and yelled, pointing at some girls around a pillar, "Stop it you three!" The three girls immediately blushed and scurried away. I fell silent.
"Uhh… But I don't see girls acting like they do for Cedric…?" I said and Ron scoffed.
"Well mate, let me count why," Ron said counting with his finger, "Firstly, you are skipping half the classes… Secondly, you are in Library half the time… and third, No one knows where the hell you have been training,"
"Yeah, you haven't even told us!" Hermione exclaimed, a little irritated.
"Hey, let it be," I told Hermione while we stepped off the staircase, finally reaching the dungeon. We walked towards the Potion's classroom, passing Malfoy and his cronies on the way. Surprisingly, no Slytherin has tried to do anything against me so far. They have been very tame, almost too tame. I wasn't complaining, but it was weird… Maybe Gemma Farley being the third champion of Hogwarts had a hand in it? Perhaps.
Anyways we walked in the Potions classroom, and I instantly felt awkward. All Gryffindor except us had reached the class early and were therefore already mostly seated. Same was the case for most Slytherins. Among Gryffindor, there was only a single empty place and that was with Neville and could only fit two people.
"Guys… You should sit with… Neville…" I winced internally at having to sit with a Slytherin, "I will see what I can do.
Hermione looked around the class and then said, "Ron, you sit with Neville? Me and Harry will sit there."
Ron sighed and agreed while I looked at the place where Hermione pointed. It was the front desk and was occupied by two Slytherin girls… What was their name? Honestly... I didn't know.
Hermione took my hand and walked towards the table. She crammed herself beside the beautiful Slytherin blonde girl with sharp features allowing me to thankfully sit at the side. To my immense surprise, Hermione and the blonde girl immediately started talking profusely, in a hushed tone. Damn… I didn't know Hermione had Slytherin friends. Damn, just damn.
"Antidotes!" said Snape entering the class dramatically, looking around at them all, his cold black eyes glittering unpleasantly. "You should all have prepared your recipes now. I want you to brew them carefully, and then, we will be selecting someone on whom to test one. . . ."
Terrific!
As the class progressed I felt calmer and calmer. Despite Snape breathing down my neck every few minutes, I did everything excellently, completing the antidote well before the time limit.
"And what do we have here?" I heard Snape's cold voice as I started taking my cauldron off the flames. "Restarting are we Potter? Wasting precious material?"
"My Antidote is ready, Professor—" before any more words could escape from my tongue, a huge blast rocked the Potions' classroom. My eyes widened as I saw acid-green liquid flying in all directions.
"Protego Totalum!" I casted, pulling my wand out within a second. The wide area shield covered me, Hermione, the blonde girl, the brunette beside the blonde and Snape. The acid-green liquid hit the shield and was stopped. A couple other people had also managed to cast some basic shield to protect themselves, but most were not lucky.
"Longbottom!" Snape exclaimed coldly at the whimpering boy, covered with the green liquid and cauldron's shard embedded all over his torso and limbs. Beside him, Rom was in the same state. "100 points from Gryffindor and three weeks of detention for ruining the class and injuring most of your classmates."
Snape waved his wand and a silvery misty doe escaped from its tip. My eyes widened—It was true.
"Tell Madam Pomfrey to come to Potion's classroom this instant with at least a dozen stretchers" Snape mutters to the patronus and looks around at the classroom, his eyes narrowed and stature filled with immense rage. "Everyone with no injuries, GET LOST!"
We needed no second reminder. Me and Hermione gave Ron and Neville a last reassuring glance and quickly left the class.
"Imagine Madam Pomfrey's shock when she doesn't find me among the injured students…" I joked to Hermione as we walked through the corridor. The Brunette girl who had been sitting with us giggled.
"Thanks for covering us with your shield too by the way," She said and extended her hand, "Tracey Davis."
I shook her hand while shrugging, "No worries, Harry Potter."
"We know," She giggled, bumping shoulders with the blonde, much to the blonde girl's ire.
"Ah— just basic courtesy?" I tried.
"See Daphne. He is courteous too—" Tracey couldn't say any further as she was pulled by a very much flustered Daphne who dragged Tracey to another corridor of the dungeon.
"Ahh…" I was left speechless as I looked at Hermione who was only giving me an expression that screamed, 'I told you so'. So, apparently, I was just blind for not noticing girls around me.
Thanks to Neville's little mishap, the Double Potion's that usually happened on Friday was cut short, allowing me to go to my dorm and get more presentable for Weighing of the Wand Ceremony while Hermione left for the Library.
After getting ready and polishing my wand, I started walking towards the Venue of the Ceremony, which was a small room on the third floor.
Most of the desks in the room had been pushed away to the back of the room, leaving a large space in the middle; three of them, however, had been placed end-to-end in front of the blackboard and covered with a long length of velvet. Five chairs had been set behind the velvet-covered desks, and Ludo Bagman was sitting in one of them, talking to a witch who was wearing magenta robes, someone I recognized instantly—Rita Skeeter.
Viktor Krum was standing moodily in a corner as usual and not talking to anybody. His schoolmates, Aleksandr Novak and Anastasia Petrova were engaged in a heated discussion. Aside from these three, no other champion had arrived yet. Not feeling like talking, I stood leaning against a wall just like Krum, brought out a Runes book I had borrowed from the library and started reading, ignoring everyone.
After having read a few pages I looked up, noticing that Cedric Diggory, Fleur Delacour and Gemma Farley had also arrived. My eyes fell on each one of them for a fraction of a second… Maybe a bit more in one case… before I returned my gaze to my book.
"We have to check that your wands are fully functional, no problems, you know, as they're your most important tools in the tasks ahead," said Bagman, explaining about the wand weighing ceremony. "The expert's upstairs now with Dumbledore. And then there's going to be a little photo shoot. This is Rita Skeeter," he added, gesturing toward the witch in magenta robes. "She's doing a small piece on the tournament for the Daily Prophet. . . ."
"Maybe not that small, Ludo," said Rita Skeeter, her eyes on me.
"I wonder if I could have a little word with Harry before we start?" she said to Bagman, but still gazed fixedly at me. "The youngest champion, you know . . . to add a bit of color?"
"Certainly!" cried Bagman. "That is — if Harry has no objection?"
"Of course, Miss Skeeter! I would love to." I said in a sickly sweet tone. Diggory and Farley looked at me in surprise while Krum's eyebrows shot up, suddenly finding something interesting in the room. Ahh, of course a celebrity recognised when another has blackmail over someone. My eyes met Krum's and I saw his lips twitch. I like this guy.
"Lovely!" Exclaimed Rita Skeeter, and in a second, her scarlet-taloned fingers had my upper arm in a surprisingly strong grip, and she was steering me out of the room again and opening a nearby door.
"Now, now, Miss Skeeter—" I said in a neutral tone, but there was a slyness present, "It would be quite rude if you… bug me this badly…"
Rita's eyes narrowed a little, but she was certain that no one knew about her Animagus form.
"We don't want to be in there with all that noise," she said. "Let's see . . . ah, yes, this is nice and cozy." It was a broom cupboard. I sighed, grimacing and realizing that I needed to be blunt.
"Rita dear," I spoke sweaty, and she bristled at the sudden change of tone, "You wouldn't like certain higher ups to find out about your blue beetle problem would you?"
"Ho–How do you?" She gasped and then immediately looked around making sure that no one was listening.
"How I know doesn't matter, dear," I spoke, my eyes twinkling a dangerous green, "What matters is; what will you write about me?"
"What do you want?" She bristled.
"Just some good publicity…" I spoke seriously. "Also you will not speak a single bad word about any of the champions and my friends."
Before a single word could be said, before she could even lift her wand properly, a spell left from mine and hers was in my hand. I glared at her.
"Don't even try… There is a reason I was chosen as a Champion," My eyes glowed a dangerous emerald and she gulped. "Now you will make an Unbreakable Oath or else I will be revealing your Animagus to the DMLE. Amelia Bones' niece is in my year, you know…"
And so, fifteen minutes later, a very happy me, and a fake smile plastered Rita entered back in the room.
All the Champions had arrived and were now sitting in chairs near the door. According to the order, I sat down between Fleur Delacour and Anastasia Petrova.
'Rue my luck…' I thought as I sat down beside the beautiful French veela with whom I barely had a single conversation so far. This will be torturous for my little heart.
Author's Note: So hello guys! Sup? Hopefully everything's well for everyone. It took me like… oh my God i just checked the time, it took me exactly 5 hours to write this… wait I had lunch too… so like half an hour less than five hours to write this. Anyways, this chapter is pretty nice in my opinion, though writing it felt very tiring. Next chapter would be pretty tame, so be ready for that. And well, thank you for reading, it means a lot. Hopefully you all loved this chapter. Please tell me if you find any mistakes. Cheers!