Chapter Text
The Hallows shall summon twelve warriors upon the seventh battle against the forces of a false prophet. The Reaper shall spare seven brave souls that forget for the light. Upon the last battle, lightning shall strike twice. A whispered plea into the ether shall bring forth the Reaper’s master. The Hallows shall create the bridge for the end of the false prophet. Merlin’s Will shall become active once again.
Albus Dumbledore let out a weary sigh. The war with Voldemort has caused a strained relationship between Britain and the international community. The Ministry was barely holding together, and the anniversary of the deaths of Neville Longbottom and Harry Potter are painful reminders of what seemed to be the darkest era in Magical Britain's history. Two events that almost became death knells for the Order of the Phoenix. Only when Lily managed to create a charm that banished him for seven years did they get a reprieve.
Sirius had been distraught at his godson’s death that he acted a lot more recklessly. It had taken Marlene McKinnon and Remus Lupin to get him to understand where the blame truly laid.
There was a small part of him that felt like the blame should be split upon himself, Voldemort, and Pettigrew, but they refused to listen. They also knew he’d allow them to get away with certain things, unless they actively threatened one of the others. Like Severus Snape who, in a surprising twist, pleaded for the Potters to be protected. He had failed to recognize that he and Lily had talked after the fracturing of their friendship, as well as them being overheard by James. The result was a man who had to be protected against those who would like to see him dead.
The change was greatly appreciated, but he knew that, with Voldemort's return seven years ago, and Fudge's dismissal of it, the war was nearing its end. Cornelius Fudge had been reducing the budget for the Aurors consistently, creating a no-win situation. Amelia Bones was forced to pretty much choose where her valiant Aurors would die. Diagon Alley, where the fighting could spill over into the Muggle world? What about Saint Mungo’s, where there are innocents being treated for injuries and are ripe for the picking by the Death Eaters?
His last visit to Gellert, however, was enlightening. He told Albus to “use the part of himself he hid under the façade of a senile old man.” It was followed by a prophecy, but he didn’t know how to take it. It helped differentiate his thoughts from raging between what he needed to do and possible outcomes.
He needed to strike fear into the Death Eaters, otherwise the country would fall. At the same time, however, he knew that he was the beacon of light in this darkened world. His death would greatly demoralize his allies and the citizens, but at what cost? If he managed to spark up hope, then how long till the children get attacked in these hallowed halls? People could trust that their kids were safe behind the protective wards, or enchantments if you wanted to use the term, and he would very rarely get anybody outside of the staff involved.
As Gellert put it; I can take out scores of fighters with precision, whereas he couldn’t. The two of us together would have been unstoppable due to our combination of skills. Now, I need to find the perfect compliment to my skills to help deal a blow to Death Eater morale. Moody is too good by himself, and it’s hard to consider breaking up the remaining Marauders. The Bones and Prewetts worked well together, both sets of brothers capable of understanding one another. And when he paired the families together, he knew that they’d fight a unique battle, buying time for the innocents to get to safety.
“Albus!” His Floo came alive, revealing the face of Frank Longbottom. His once sandy blonde hair was littered with grey. One large scar ran from his left eyebrow down to his jaw. Dark bags hung underneath his eyes, knowing that today would’ve been Neville’s eleventh birthday. He and his wife were at Hogwarts when members of Tom’s inner circle struck, killing his mother and their son. “Death Eaters are attacking Diagon Alley!” He nodded grimly, and alerted the Order.
We will need all the help we can get, but today has to be the day the tide turns against Voldemort. Otherwise, we won’t last till Halloween. Merlin, we’re going to need a bloody miracle!
Little did he know, however, what his plea would bring.
In the past
A man with obsidian coloured hair strolled down the halls of the school he helped to found almost ten years ago. The fracture, as the students called it, led to different stories of him becoming a dark wizard. The truth, however, was much more complex.
The reports of a follower of Herpo appearing in Macedonia are false. Still, that Oracle spoke of a world enshrouded in darkness and a guiding light requesting aid against some false prophet. Wonder if Rowena could decipher it.
“Sal, you look unsettled.” A man with fiery red hair stated. Whereas the now identified Sal was lanky, his friend was bulky. Both utilized their body types in different ways during a battle. Sal, however, had a unique scar going down the left side of his face. “Godric.” Sal greeted, before handing him the warning. “This is what has unsettled me. An Oracle spoke of such a world, and the Pantheon held a vision of it.”
“And? You’re the one who refuses to show anything other than contempt for such nonsense. Though, Row has been pacing around nervously.”
“The person behind it claims to be my descendant. Though, I never thought Voldemort would be used as a name.”
“That’s because it isn’t.” A beautiful, raven-haired woman interrupted. Her icy blue eyes penetrating the darkness within Salazar’s. Next to her stood a woman dressed in gold, with brown eyes capable of housing unending warmth. They were the female founders of Hogwarts.
“What do you mean?” Salazar asked. The women, however, didn’t answer.
“Meet us in the North Star tower after you eat and bathe. The both of you. Godric, you have been picking fights and are injured. Sal, you have just returned from trying to find a follower of a crazed warlock. We shall discuss everything later.” The men agreed, and went to do as they were commanded.
Salazar Slytherin, however, felt a fear he hadn’t since leaving his home. He had tried to be a good father to his children, but couldn’t make them see that all lives should be respected. Sure, he was skilled in the Dark Arts, but he never went out with the intention of murdering anyone. The skills were useful for those who tried to attack undefended civilians.
But now, it seemed, his family didn’t realize that fact. They were apparently attacking innocent Muggles because they viewed themselves better. Despite the fact that his parents held no magic, someone apparently spread a false story of him despising Muggles and wishing for Hogwarts to only admit those from Pure families.
He didn’t rightfully know what it fully meant, but he knew that empires crumbled due to inbreeding amongst royalty and having those lines eventually fall into insanity. One great example was Nero. When the four met upon the North Star tower, a rift opened in the middle of them, and they heard cries for help. The four, fully reunited, went through the rift to help.
In another universe
Harry Potter stood amongst the survivors of the final battle with Voldemort. Neville was holding Luna protectively as she wept for her deceased father. The father who, in his fear for her life, almost betrayed Harry. Ginny was leaning against her brother Ron as they looked upon the shattered remains of their family.
Percy was dead. Killed by Thickness for betraying the Ministry. Fred died in an explosion, and George might be following. He had suffered at the hands of Antonin Dolohov, and the healers weren’t sure if he’d last the night. Their parents had been executed in front of the school gates as a warning to those who fought Riddle and his band of bastards.
Bill and Charlie weren’t hurt, thankfully, and took control over the protective detail for the dead on the light. Draco, surprisingly, helped out. He had to kill Crabbe and Goyle during the battle after being revealed as a spy. When questioned about his change of heart, he revealed that he had talked to Dumbledore during the Tri-Wizard Tournament. He wanted Astoria Greengrass to be protected if he spied on his family and their allies.
When she and her sister were kidnapped from Hogwarts, he blew his cover to rescue them. It was only the trio’s impeccable timing that they escaped unharmed. Lucius was then given orders to capture the three of them. It was Ron who managed to stop it by accidentally creating a new spell, but not before the youngest took a killing curse intended for Draco.
“You did it Harry.” Hermione whispered, subconsciously rubbing the slur carved into her skin. She watched as Fleur laid her sister down for the last time, tears streaking down her face. Gabrielle had been forced into the fight after the Death Eaters made an incursion onto the Continent. Her father, who had lost a leg in that attack, personally led the retaliatory strike. Sparking a war between the magical countries.
Spain and Portugal aided France, and it created a rather grim situation. For each loss, Voldemort and his followers killed scores of Muggles in the four countries. Only when MACUSA and the Eurasian Magical Parliament threatened Britain with an all out invasion did it stop, but the damage was done. No side would agree to peace.
Harry and the forces that had fallen under his command mainly consisted of school children and those who had known him. They called themselves Dumbledore’s Army, and led to the Order of the Phoenix to aid them in training for what would be known as the Last War.
If Harry failed, the world was going to be bathed in nuclear fire for eons. If he succeeded, then he’d become the figurehead of a new world. One united against the darkness.
But none expected the war to end in such a way.
“At what cost?” Harry asked, taking in the remains of Hogwarts. The rubble that once housed Gryffindor House had been used to take out the giants and Acromantula. Ravenclaw tower had been scarred by Fiendfyre and the result was the once light grey stone turning into obsidian. The great hall had been turned into the medical center for his friends and allies, as Saint Mungo’s was destroyed a few weeks back.
The teachers were all scarred from the fighting. Flitwick lost his left eye, while McGonagall had required her right arm and leg to be amputated. Sprout lost a few fingers, but she’d remember finding the remains Hooch for the rest of her life. No Obliviate could remove such a sight.
Snape, however, was the worst. His double agent status had been revealed almost two years ago, something that Voldemort kept hidden from him and Dumbledore, and the result was a slow death. One that was done in public to stomp out any and all resistance. For seven days, his screams plagued Diagon Alley. Seven nights, sobs haunted the dreams of all. Vector was the one who reported it, and she eventually revealed that she cared for the man who risked everything to protect Harry from being attacked on his seventeenth birthday.
Trelawney was catatonic, and the Ancient Runes teacher had been blinded by one of the Carrows. It was what started the battle, and the students didn’t hesitate to revolt. Neville led it, ironically, and had been forced to kill year mates to protect younger years.
He earned the nickname of ‘The Grim’ for his actions throughout the revolt and his fighting style against the forces of darkness.
“I really wish we could get a second chance. Save the lives of those who didn’t deserve their deaths.” Ron said, surprising everyone. He had, during the course of the war, become one of the few people who struck fear into the Death Eaters.
“A way exists.” An eerie voice echoed amongst eight fighters. The youngest Weasleys, as well as Hermione looked at Harry. Luna, Draco, and Daphne Greengrass looked at Neville. Only once the figure formed, somehow in the middle of the eight, despite their heightened senses, did they realize who was speaking. “Merlin’s Will needs to be activated in a different universe. If you agree to help, then He shall judge you.”
“More fighting? Is it not enough that we all lost our parents to this conflict!? What of our friends who need to be buried!?” Harry raged, only to receive a grin in return.
“I do not know what Merlin’s Will shall do other than judge. It is possible that you could be given another chance. Only by agreeing to fight again shall you find out.”
“Harry, Neville,” Luna started, with a weird look in her eyes. “We should agree. If we don’t, then we may never get another chance. If I’m correct, then we will not just get a second chance, but one where we have an ace hidden. Please.” Neville agreed, trusting the person he came to view as a sister while hiding. His acceptance gave Harry an easier decision, and a rift opened in front of them.
“Once more unto the breach.” Harry snarked, stepping through first. Death smiled, knowing that his master would be fine. It was his atonement for the harsh life he had forced upon the child.
Even immortals suffer from guilt. Only when the person wronged was a paragon of the light.
And Harry, though he didn’t realize it, was one such person. A man who should’ve turned into another Voldemort or Grindelwald refused to fall. He protected his abusers without hesitation. All of the death and destruction weighed heavily on his mind, but he kept the burden to himself, as if he was Atlas.
This would be the realization of a prophecy long since forgotten, but worth the risk to see completed.