Hello, Gorgeous Readers!

Sorry that it's been so long since the last update. I severely underestimated just how long it takes to write over ten-thousand words! But i got it out as soon as possible, promise(:

Also! Not sure if it popped up or not, but I replaced all three of the other chapters with an updated version. Nothing really big was changed, but the lovely Halimede made it known that the time jumps in between some of the chapters were a bit hard to follow so I went back and added dates and stuff. You'll see that in this chapter too. Just wanted to let you all know. Also! Big thanks to Halimede for letting me know. I know I didn't get on it right away but I didn't forget!

I would also like to thank all of the amazing reviewers. You guys sooth my prickly muse. I'm eternally grateful for all the feedback(:

I suppose I should throw up another disclaimer just for the sake of doing it. I don't own Harry Potter or any of its characters. I don't make any money off of this and all rights go to J.K. Rowling. Long live the Queen 3

Anyway, I hope you all love the most recent update, let me know what you all think(:

Ta,

Majix

May 18, 2009

All was quiet.

As agreed, Harry explained to the best of his knowledge, all that he knew and planned for, the nature of his being, and when all was said and done, when everything was out in the open, silence met them all. Nobody dared be the one to break the suspended thread of surrealism, the moment already worn thin by their very presence.

But, to the surprise of everyone, Lucius was the first to speak.

"You are either immeasurably clever or undeniably foolish."

The dazzling smile that met the youth's lips spoke volumes of his ability to be both, his eyes alight with unabashed excitement, "I think the word you're looking for, Mr. Malfoy, is enlightened. Undeniably enlightened."

Lucius sneered at him but it lacked any true venom, something that only made the teen's grin light up that much more, "I shouldn't have expected any less from a Potter."

Snickers circled the group leaving Harry to look mildly sheepish before Barty dropped his shoes from the table's surface and sat up, "So what exactly do you need from us?"

"To be honest, I didn't really think that far ahead," Dark green eyes appeared thoughtful before the wizard shrugged, "It just seemed like the right thing to do."

Barty snorted, "Nothing's changed there."

The aristocratic blonde shook his head, sighing in near exasperation at the teenage wizard that'd somehow managed to bind one of the most powerful entities in the universe, "Your unwavering hero complex astounds even me, Potter."

Harry laughed before waving him off with an amused smile, "Tell me something I don't know. And seriously? Stop calling me "Potter". It makes me feel like I'm about to get scolded."

Regardless of the unflinching pureblood mask the older man wore so proudly, Harry could practically feel the elder's desire to roll his eyes, "Perhaps you need to be scolded."

Death watched the mortal group with a certain sense of amusement before pushing himself away from the counter, gaining the attention of the other three men, "We're going to need to acquire a pair of wands."

Lucius and Barty glanced at each other, trading a silent look to surprise at the knowledge that they'd be receiving wands in the first place only to be pulled back to the present by a short chuckle.

Harry leaned towards them with an air of playful arrogance, "Oh no. Two brilliant gentlemen like yourselves? Barty you're a Ravenclaw, right? Twelve O.W.L.S if I'm not mistaken."

The man in question appeared nearly taken aback at the green eyed teen's words before the younger man turned his sights to Lucius, "And you very nearly became Minister of Magic. Only a small part of that was because of Voldemort."

Harry leaned back dangerously in his chair, balancing his weight on only one of the legs, "You're both exceptional wizards. It'd be a mistake to keep you on the sidelines.

"You can both conjure a Patronus, right?"

In what seemed to be a reoccurring fashion of the evening, the two Death Eaters appeared astonished. It'd been previously assumed that only Severus was able to do such a thing among their side, that Dark magic made it impossible to conjure one. A vicious, and mistaken, rumor spread purposefully by the Dark Lord to draw out terror in the hearts of others but it'd worked. Nobody was ever the wiser, and for some, it'd been a way to prove that you were Imperioused into working for Voldemort, regardless of whether they bore the Mark or not.

Harry scoffed, "Don't look so surprised," he let his chair fall forward, the resounding echo of sturdy oak legs meeting the ground loud among the lingering quiet, "Everybody has memories of their life that make them happy."

"Even Death Eaters." Harry glanced subtly towards his immortal companion, watching as the white haired man dipped his head in the smallest of acknowledgments, confirming the teen's theory without a word, his victorious smile returning once again..

Barty leaned back in his chair, watching the dark haired wizard with an undisguised air of scrutiny, "You are more than you appear."

Harry laughed, green eyes sparkling with something unspoken before he offered a shrug, "I get that a lot. Most people don't actually say it to my face though."

Laughter broke between the two of them and the unstable Ravenclaw couldn't help but to relax a bit. It was nearly impossible to be put off or even weary around the boy. His aura, the brilliant and healthy thrum of his magic was so unbelievably warm. The teen practically radiated his intentions, the truth behind his words. He wouldn't harm them, not really.

Harry wasn't dark by nature. Anybody who'd spent any time at all with the teen would know as much. He was hardened, the steel of his character strengthened by adversity, made unyielding by the repeated plunge into the fire but beneath it all, he was still the same.

A boy turned man with the heart of a lion, a true Gryffindor, brave and unflinching before his duty and what he deemed to be just with all the compassion and understanding of a Hufflepuff. But that was not to be mistaken with weakness because Harry Potter was a snake. While his heart might've been ruled with the passion of emotion, his mind was another creature entirely. Brilliant and cunning, resourceful as any good Slytherin but also clever to a fault. The wit he'd displayed in his explanation of the various puzzles he'd encountered was worthy of any Ravenclaw. He was one of a kind.

Lucius shifted, crossing one of his legs over the other, remaining unbelievably posh and authoritative even in the presence of their current company, "While this is all very touching," He brushed nonexistent lint from his transfigured robes, "What exactly do you propose, Potter?"

The teen appeared annoyed at the blonde's continued insistence of calling him by his surname but, to Barty's surprise, he refused to become ruffled, "Well, eventually I'll need you both to help me subdue a very pissed off Dementor."

Death chuckled at the startled look on both the wizard's faces as they realized that the teen wasn't joking before a pensive look captured the blonde's aristocratic features, drawing the immortal's attention.

"Problem, Lucius?"

A small shiver ran down the elder's spine as Death addressed him but the immortal wasn't offended by it in the least. He knew how he appeared to them, and the vibe he gave off. He'd once heard his presence compared to that of a piano just the slightest bit out of tune; you could recognize the bare bones of the melody, knew what it was supposed to be - but somehow, no matter how hard you tried, you just couldn't manage to sing along.

Mortals felt it in their bones that something was wrong with him, that he wasn't the same as others, but regardless, the pureblood turned to offer him a respectful glance before his eyes darted back to Harry, "I may have been incarcerated in Azkaban for quite some time but I don't imagine the Ministry is just going to sweep a break-out under the rug."

Harry shook his head, "They won't, but it won't be common knowledge for a bit. We've got some time to figure out what to do, what I'm more concerned about is -"

"POTTER! WHAT IN MERLIN'S NAME HAVE YOU DONE, POTTER?!"

While the others practically jumped out of their own skins at the unexpected shrieking that rang through the halls, Harry merely leaned back in his seat, pinching the bridge of his nose as he let out a long and heavy sigh, "That."

"DON'T IGNORE ME, POTTER!"

Lucius appeared completely baffled, gaping like a fish, "Draco?"

Normally, the green eyed wizard would've laughed at how often he was managing to surprise the stiff man, making him lose control over the pristine mask of indifference that he normally wore but at that moment, all he could think about was the severe scolding he was about to receive.

Draco wasn't, by any means, what he would consider a close friend but the two got along. They'd traded somewhat formal letters when Harry used his power as the Savior of the Wizarding World to get the youngest Malfoy out of the deep cauldron of trouble he'd found himself in but as time passed, they slowly relaxed. Draco was almost a counselor of sorts and though they never met face to face after the Battle of Hogwarts they'd never really lost touch either.

But that was not to say that Harry didn't owe the Slytherin a great deal, regardless of the help he'd provided, because he did.

In a moment of panic, bright with the budding of obsession and the need to escape London, he'd turned to the only person he could think of that'd judge him fairly without sugar coating or scorn. He'd spilled his guts about Voldemort to Draco, his depression and his growing desperation to find an unspoken truth and within hours he'd received a reply from his friend; a single paragraph telling him to go, that he wasn't bound to his fame and he could do whatever he wanted.

Be whoever he wanted.

"HARRY POTTER YOU BETTER LET ME THROUGH THIS BLOODY FLOO RIGHT NOW OR YOU'LL REALLY BE SORRY!"

He let out a resigned sigh before rising from his chair, "Worse than any Howler I've ever received, I'm sure of it."

Harry left the others in stunned silence as he walked down the halls towards the sitting room, taking a deep breath before flicking his wand, opening the Floo for the unmistakable storm that was demanding entrance.

As predicted, it only took a few moments before the hurricane known as Draco Malfoy stepped through the sudden roar of green flame. His eyes were absolutely livid, his lips pressed together in an unbelievably tight line and without even having to look, Harry knew his fingers would be clenched around his wand so tightly that they'd undoubtedly be white.

His apparent surprise at the messy haired wizard's unchanged appearance only lasted a mere fraction of a second before Draco started shouting, "I know you're responsible for this Potter!"

He shook a half crumbled piece of paper angrily in his fist, an owl from the Ministry no doubt, before he jabbed a finger into Harry's chest, "Only you! Only you would have the audacity to do something SO BLOODY STUPID, POTTER!"

Harry's green eyes widened and he raised his hands up defensively, palms out in surrender, "Draco, I -"

Malfoy cut him off with a sneer, "Don't you dare try to insult my intelligence. You're back in London for less than four months and suddenly Azkaban has a breakout! That has your reckless name all over it, Potter!"

Confusion darkened the Gryffindor's gaze, his lips pulling down in a frown, "How did you know I was back in London?"

"My source of knowledge isn't what we're talking about! We're talking about you breaking my father out of prison without telling me!"

A bright, entertained smile broke out across the wizard's face as he dropped his hands, "Well that's good to know!"

Draco was not amused by his cheek, that much was instantly obvious, but he was correct in assuming the worst of it was over when the blonde didn't immediately begin yelling at him again, "What's good to know?"

His voice was low and steady, the underlying threat of what should happen if Harry made an unnecessary joke clear, even to somebody as oblivious as the boy-who-lived. "You're not upset about me breaking into Azkaban, you're just mad that I didn't let you in on it."

The blonde's sigh was strained, "So you don't deny breaking into Azkaban."

Harry's frown returned but unlike before it was laced with amusement, "To be fair I didn't even have to break in. I just walked in and walked out."

Draco's glared at him.

"Annnnd I may or may not have taken Lucius out with me."

The angry blonde opened his mouth to retort only to have his voice stolen by the soft spoken arrival of his father. "…Draco?"

It was a moment of sentiment, the way their identical grey eyes met in a shared glance of stunned silence as the younger Malfoy approached him, his posture stiff and controlled before he threw his arms around his father. The love and mutual respect between them was obvious as Lucius wrapped his arms around his son, his only child, returning the display of affection wholeheartedly before they proudly pulled away from each other.

"It's good to see you, my son."

The younger wizard smiled, "And I, you, father."

In that moment, any of Harry's questions about the relationship between father and son were answered. He may have been cold and aloof at times, but Lucius loved his son and it was apparent that the sentiment was unmistakably returned.

However, the moment only lasted a second and before he could enjoy the attention being directed else where, Harry was once again the focus of a confused and angry Malfoy, "You still have a lot of explaining to do, Potter!"

The teen in question sighed, "Don't I always?" But he shook his head, "There's way too much to explain. I just really need you to trust me this one time, Draco."

He was irritated, that much was obvious by the blazing grey eyes, but as Draco surveyed his surroundings, he began to realize that Harry was, probably, right. The backlash for his father fleeing Azkaban would be a big enough issue for him to deal with on his own and after recognizing the presence of a wizard that was reported dead some years before and another man, an unnatural looking wizard with white hair, his body devoid of all color, the young aristocrat knew that whatever this was was something he didn't want to be intimately involved in.

"Alright, Potter."

Relief shown bright and apparent within the Avada Kadavra green eyes of his once rival as the blonde shifted his weight to the other side, "I won't ask what you're up to, but I still need to know what you want me to do with this mess you've just dumped me in the middle of."

Harry at least had the decency to appear guilty about the situation he'd caused before returning to a more serious state of mind, "Time. That's what we need."

Draco's eyes narrowed, "How much time, Potter?"

White teeth worried the soft flesh of his lower lip as Harry considered all that needed to be done. He didn't want to deal with the situation surrounding Lucius and his escape until they'd resurrected Voldemort, but it'd take at least a day for them to recuperate before they'd be ready to take on a dementor, not to mention the fact that he still needed to get to Ollivander's for wands.

He had all the things necessary to Transfigure Voldemort's new body, but he would need to finish the dementor wand before he could start and the spellwork couldn't be done in under twelve hours no matter how powerful he was. Not to mention the fact that they still needed a sacrifice for the ritual itself.

Harry huffed with frustration. There was still so much to do and so little time.

"Five days. Can you try to keep the escape from the Daily Prophet for five days?"

Pale brows rose to near comical heights at the declaration, "Merlin, Potter. It isn't enough that you've thrown me into this without warning but now you want me to work like a slave?"

Despite his harsh words, the edge behind them was dull, lacking in any usual scathing undertones and Draco sighed, "I'll do my best, but try and hurry. And keep me informed on a need to know basis, Potter."

Harry nodded as Draco swept from the room and through the floo with only a brief nod of departure towards his father.

Barty immediately turned towards the teen, "Why five days?"

Clearly emotionally exhausted, the wizard dropped into one of the soft leather chairs in front of the fireplace, quickly closing off his connection to the Floo network with a flick of his wand before making a move to answer.

"The main reason I'm resurrecting Voldemort is so that he can attempt to fix Great Wizarding Britain and what direction he wants to go with the Azkaban breakout is probably gonna be a major starting point towards that goal, so I'd rather let him decide where we go with that."

A frown marked the eldest Malfoy's lips, "If what you've told us about your plan is true, I think we'll need more than five days, Potter."

Harry shook his head, "No, you didn't listen. We have five days until the Daily Prophet finds out about your escape. That'll give us about ten or eleven days total before we absolutely have to make a move."

Barty nodded, nearly surprised by the amount of thought the green eyed wizard put into their plan despite not having much time to think about it. He licked his lower lip, eyes dark with thought before he glanced back towards Harry, "Then we'll just have to roll with that."

The other three males in the room looked at him for explanation as he continued, looking at Harry first, "While we're resting you can go study the workings of the human body. You said you'd already started right?"

Harry nodded, "I'm just about done. If I really put my mind to it, it shouldn't take that much longer."

Barty hummed thoughtfully, "Well, Death could go retrieve wands for us."

Harry chuckled and waved off the idea, "That won't be necessary. Ollivander owes me a favor and he'll be happy to do it."

Both elder's looked shocked to realize that the legendary wand maker was indebted to Harry before Lucius recalled the near end of the second war when Potter released the prisoners behind held at Malfoy Manor, Ollivander among them.

"What about the dementor wand?"

Harry's brows pulled together with question, "What about it?"

Lucius perched himself in the chair across from their host, his eyes alight with strategic planning, "You said the cloak needed to be soaked in basilisk venom. How long will it need before it's ready to be made into a wand?"

Death moved to stand beside his ward, "A full day at least. Two would be better."

Each of the four males sighed, appearing thoughtful on the best way to go about things before Harry sat forward, scooting to the edge of his seat, "Alright, so we work with that."

Green eyes narrowed in focused thought at the teen silently mapped the direction of their time table, "We'll send for Ollivander today, he can make the wands and they should be done by the second day."

Unable to sit still as his train of thought raced faster and faster along the track, Harry stood and began pacing in front of the fireplace, "While we're waiting, the two of you can recover, maybe think of ways to incapacitate a dementor and I can study the spellwork. When your wands are finished, we go over the plan and get the cloak strands."

As if pulled taunt by a leash, the messy haired wizard paused, tapping his fingertips against his upper arm thoughtfully, "It'll be tight, but I think we can do it."

Death hummed his approval, "Very good, Harry."

The teen summoned a quill and parchment, quickly filling it with his messy scrawl before sealing it with a flourish of his wand, "Can one of you have this delivered to the wandmaker?"

Death barely had enough time to take the sealed envelope before Harry was dashing from the room, leaving the rest of them to stare after the merciless storm that claimed to be human.

May 19th, 2009

Endless hours seemed to pass as Harry once again found himself in the library, surrounded by dozens of open books and scattered bits of parchment. When Death told the green eyed wizard that he'd need an in-depth understanding of how the human body functioned, he'd neglected to mention exactly how much of a task it'd prove to be.

The basics were fairly simple to understand, the layout of blood vessels, nerves, muscles and bones, but the more he read, the more complicated it became. The sheer size of the network that resided within each and every human being was dizzying in its complexity. Everything was connected to everything else in its own way and one slip, a single mistake could cause it to fail.

But that too was based on circumstance.

While the human body was undeniably fragile in its inner workings, it was also exceptionally durable. Nearly all systems could be in the process of failing and it could still manage to survive and, if treated correctly, recover.

Harry sighed in exhaustion, raking his fingers through his untameable hair as he continued pouring over his hastily scrawled notes, paying special attention to the systems he couldn't quite wrap his head around.

"How's it coming?"

Harry lifted his head, turning to look at Barty as the elder wizard approached, "Slowly."

The elder nodded before plopping down into the chair opposite of him, his observant hazel eyes taking in the dark circles below Harry's eyes and the lack of energy sitting stark against his features. Though he hadn't sought out a mirror, Harry knew what he must've looked like, tired and worn out but refusing to stop.

There wasn't time for him to be tired, not really, especially not when the future relied on his diligence and he would have all the time in the world to sleep when he was dead.

Not that he'd manage that feat anytime soon.

A small chuckle bubbled up to his lips at the ridiculous thought but he waved off the dark haired wizard's obvious curiosity, "Is there a reason you're here."

Barty's lips pressed together in a thin line as he silently debated whether or not to mention his concern, before he decided against it. "Lucius and I think we might know how to lure out and contain a dementor."

That certainly got the teen's attention.

Where he'd previously been dividing his attention between the Ravenclaw and his studies he now sat at full attention, his unwavering focus centered completely on the darker haired man.

Without a word, Barty pulled a wrapped bundle of parchment from his robes and unrolled it, laying it out across the table over Harry's notes, "Malfoy Manor was obviously the first place the Ministry sent the dementors to look but I'm sure they weren't surprised that he wasn't there. The Malfoys have been around for quite some time, that much is obvious since they're such a renown pureblood line, and as such they have many properties just sitting around."

The dark haired wizard tapped the unrolled parchment, "This particular villa hasn't been used in a very long time and it's supposed to be a secret from the Ministry, but it isn't. It's secrecy is a facade and Lucius knows that."

Harry immediately caught up with what the dark wizard was implying, "So it'd make sense in the Ministry's mind that Lucius would go there because they don't know that he knows that it's being watched."

Barty nodded, "Exactly. I was thinking we could position Lucius there and simply wait for the scout. They won't send an entire colony of dementors until they know he's actually there. So we wait, take what we need from it and escape before the Ministry realizes that it's missing."

Harry drummed his fingers along the paper, humming thoughtfully as he stared down at the layout of the villa. It was backed by a set of mountains and cultivated forests stood on either side of the road's entrance. The bottlenecked entrance would definitely give them an added bonus in their attack.

"Do you have any thoughts on how to actually contain the dementor?"

In a near mirror image of what he'd done the previous evening, Barty leaned his chair back on two legs, balancing it easily as he considered the teen's question, "I was thinking that maybe we could keep it cornered in a three way Patronus while Death clips the cloak."

Harry beamed, "That's.. actually quite clever."

Entertainment darted across the elder's face and he snorted, clearly amused, "As you so bluntly stated last night, I was a Ravenclaw, Harry. That's sort of what we're known for."

Barty's previously discarded sense of seriousness returned as he dropped his chair forward. "I was originally hoping that you'd be able to take the cloak strands since Death is likely to have the most powerful Patronus, but I don't think that'd work."

Harry frowned, his metaphorical quills rising in defense. 'Why not? I'm a powerful wizard, Crouch. I think I could handle it."

Barty appeared almost taken aback at the sudden change of pronouns but quickly caught the air of defensiveness surrounding the green eyed wizard. "Well, being around a dementor is one thing, but to actually touch one is quite another."

The elder wizard paused for a moment to consider the flow of his thoughts before continuing, "Not many people realize this, but a dementor's cloak isn't just a fabric that they wear. It's part of them, like a second skin."

Twin brows rose in a display of surprise as Harry considered the elder's words. "So you mean..?"

Barty nodded. "Yeah, we'll essentially be taking strips of dementor's skin, and I don't think it's going to be very happy about that."

Harry snorted at the sheer audacity of that claim, thinking that those words in themselves could be the understatement of all understatements. "Point taken."

"Which is why I think it'll be smart to have Death take the cloak strips. He'll probably be immune to the crippling fear that the creature will produce to protect itself and I'm pretty sure that he'll be more equipped to handle any threat that it presents while we try to keep it contained."

Barty glanced back at the dark haired wizard from the corner of his eye. "Besides, I hear you've got a pretty impressive Patronus, Potter."

Harry didn't comment on the nature of his Patronus, seeing the statement as more of a closing to his argument than a question. Instead he chose to direct the flow of conversation elsewhere. "Did Ollivander get the new wands all squared away?"

Barty nodded, pulling the dark stick of ebony from his robes. "Yeah, it didn't take him long at all. Mine was a bit more complicated than Lucius' but it worked out. We should be fully recuperated and ready to take on the dementor by tomorrow morning."

Harry nodded in understanding, a deep yawn pulling from his lips unexpectedly as he leaned back in his chair, the onslaught of his work beginning to catch up with him at an alarming rate. He could feel the sharpness of his mind, the quick wit of his understanding fading in a demand for rest and though Harry was loath to stop when he was so close, the teen knew he was way overdue for a good night's sleep.

Just out of curiosity, Harry cast a quick Tempus, sighing as he realized that it was, once again, almost night. "We should make sure to be there by early afternoon at the latest. I don't think the dementor will come around til the evening but it would be beneficial to know the landscape."

Barty chuckled as he stood from his spot but made no move to discredit the idea, not bothering to reach for the villa's blueprints. "When did you become so clever, little Lord?"

Though in the process of gathering his notes and other essential materials, Harry stilled at the title he'd been given without prompting. It was strange to hear such a thing come from the mouth of somebody so utterly devoted to the Dark Lord but Harry couldn't find it within himself to make the correction.

From Barty, it was a compliment; the highest of which he would be capable, Harry was sure, but even then, he didn't feel entirely comfortable with it.

Sirius' reaction had proven that those in the afterlife could view his actions if they so wished, that the dead could see and judge the living and there was no way for Harry to be sure that Tom Riddle wasn't patiently waiting in the afterlife to kill him. The green eyed teen was fairly sure that wasn't the case and he wouldn't immediately be killed but there was no telling how Voldemort would react to him. If all was as it was before, Harry had no doubt that the Dark Lord would've tried to collect him. He was, after all, a man driven by power, and what was more powerful than one having Death at their beck and call? Nothing. Literally, almost nothing was more powerful than that, but the fact of the matter was that Voldemort wouldn't be the same. He'd have the entirety of his soul, and though Harry had no doubt that the man would still be power hungry and ambitiously driven, he could perceive Harry as a threat and try to end him.

That, of course, would most likely backfire since he was favored by Death, but it would still be a huge blow to his ego, as well as his pride. A sure setback.

But then again, if Voldemort could see him then he probably knew all of that already. Perhaps he'd wait and try to stab him in the back at a later time, or maybe, just maybe, he would be grateful and Harry would be safe from his wrath. As he'd thought countless times, there was really no telling when it came to Lord Voldemort.

The paradox factor was dizzying.

"Don't think so much, Harry, you've got enough on your plate as it is."

Avada Kedavra green eyes looked up from where he'd been mindlessly zoning out to meet Barty's hazel gaze. "Was it really that obvious what I was thinking about?"

The elder laughed. "No, just a lucky guess."

Harry had his doubts but he said nothing, only offering a thankful smile as he gathered the rest of his stuff and accompanied Barty out of the library, fully intending to take advantage of the chance to sleep while he still could.

May 20th, 2009

The villa was beautiful, just as Harry knew it would be.

Malfoys weren't in the habit of denying themselves the many luxuries life had to offer and that much became very apparent as the dark haired wizard stood before the towering structure. It certainly wasn't the size of Malfoy Manor but the villa was large in its own right. Two stories of lengthy stone walls adorned with ceiling length windows along the outside and hefty magical barriers. It was lovely, surrounded by carefully crafted gardens blooming with exotic flowers in all colourful shapes and sizes. Long stretches of ivy claimed the stone walls, giving it the appearance of age, a semblance of nature's surrealism as it coiled around the columns with all the affection of a long time lover.

The forests on either side of the gorgeous structure were dark and brimming with magic. It had the healthy thrum of connection and though the ancient trees weren't nearly as old as the great pines that towered within the Forbidden Forest, there's was no question of their age. The trunks were thick and sturdy, bound tightly to the ground by the gnarled roots that'd begun to show below the soil.

Though he'd been surrounded by such things since he'd learned of the Wizarding World, Harry couldn't help but to feel that the place was magical, in a way. It had an air to it, an atmosphere that couldn't be mistaken as anything other than alive and sentient.

"This was to be Draco's."

Harry looked up at the tall blonde wizard that seemed to appear out of thin air beside him, "When he was younger, Draco expressed interest in having this villa as his own when he married. His desire for it eventually waned but I always planned on gifting it to him regardless."

Harry frowned at the apparent past tense of the statement, "And now?"

Lucius sighed in mock annoyance, "My son can be quite changeable."

Harry laughed at the humorous turn that their momentarily serious conversation had taken but he didn't pry. He merely contented himself with the knowledge that the elder Malfoy was capable of in-depth emotional connection and that, perhaps, the time would eventually come where they could speak of such things without the obvious defensive mechanisms.

Harry tilted his head up, "Barty and I scanned the surrounding area this morning. The villa is empty and the forests are devoid of anything remotely human. We should be good to go."

A small frown touched the elder's lips, "When one is taking the chance of being caught by dementors and returned to Azkaban, they'd rather not hear the word should, Mr. Potter."

Harry snorted in amusement before turning away from the taller wizard, "Don't worry, we've got an ace in the hole."

Lucius arched a carefully sculpted brow in barely disguised questioning, "I beg your pardon?"

Despite his greatest efforts to be civil and mature, it took every scrap of will Harry possessed not to burst out laughing at the pureblood's ignorance, "It's a muggle phrase. It means - you know what, never mind. Just don't worry."

Harry quickly Apparated away, unable to keep the smile off his face as he returned to the cliff's edge to wait, perching himself alongside the other two wizards "Now we wait."

May 20th, 2009

As the brilliant rays of sunlight began to steadily dim with the approach of night, little was said between the three wizards. All eyes remained on the area surrounding the villa, watching, waiting for the approach of their prey.

In the moment, Harry felt much like a hawk, high above the limitations of the ground, constantly on the lookout for the unsuspecting form of his next meal and just as the raven haired teen started to feel his edge beginning to dull, the chill of an early winter permeated the air.

It was unnatural, the drop in temperature as the dark creature approached. It wasn't visible yet but the strategic teen had suspected as much. For all that they lacked, dementors had a certain wit about them, a capability for cunning and Harry would've been much more surprised had the creature taken the easiest route.

It would move upon the villa from the shadow of the forest, the only question was on which side would it come. The unnatural air was, of course, an exceedingly helpful warning but beyond that, there wasn't much of a way to tell where the being was within the dense pines.

"West side, far left."

Death's smooth baritone voice directed the other's eyes and they quickly caught sight of it, the ebony flow of its cloak nearly invisible against the cliff's face.

"Remember, once attacked it will fight harder than any dementor you've ever faced. I can't tell you what you might see or feel, but be prepared."

Harry and Barty shared a nod before watching the villa, waiting for Lucius to make his appearance, and the blonde didn't disappoint. Mere moments after Death's quiet warning the aristocratic male made his way from the house, drawing the dementor further out into the open.

Lengthy seconds ticked by them, the slow and steady flow of time sluggish and lazy, crawling through a thick molasses of anticipation before the creature finally began to advance towards the blonde and without a word between them, the three wizards Disapparated with a distinct pop.

The moment Harry landed, the Patronus Charm was on his lips, a wall of pure light merging effortlessly with the other two wizards, forming an encompassing triangle around the angry creature.

And it was beyond furious, of that there was no doubt.

In the span of a single second, the dark being transformed its behavior from cautious to entirely animalistic, bashing angrily against the walls of their makeshift prison. Unearthly cries rang true from the unlit center, plunging the world around them into absolute darkness as the already low temperature began dropping at radical intervals.

It was terrifying, the way the creature before them seemed to suck the very light from the Earth, leaving their Patronus barrier dim and flickering while all three wizard's fought to keep it alive.

"ANYTIME NOW, DEATH!"

The enraged dementor whipped its focus around to the startled youth, a sharp cry screaming from its lipless mouth before Harry was assaulted by the radiating darkness, his heart slamming wildly within the wizard's chest and as the seconds ticked by, all he could think about was the fact that he couldn't seem to connect with his mind.

Flashes of the Savior's life passed before his eyes, each more unrecognizable than the last until finally the happy memory he'd chosen lingered intense and entirely to realistic before his very eyes.

There, on the grassy slope beside Hogwarts, a much younger Harry Potter stood beside his newly discovered Godfather, speaking to him softly as his friends lingered beneath the momentarily stilled branches of the Whomping Willow. There was no animosity between them, nothing but the hesitantly spoken words of two souls that longed to find each other, to hear what the other had to say but as he looked on, the solid memory he'd chosen began to twist and warp as brilliant green eyes looked on with growing horror.

Sirius' eyes no longer looked on with calm acceptance.

Instead they appeared as he remembered them from Spinner's End, enraged and unwilling to accept anything Harry said or did. His mouth was twisted in a nasty sneer that reminded the teenage wizard, strangely enough, of Severus Snape dealing with unruly Gryffindors. It was lined with loathing, the unmistakable desire to be anywhere else and as Harry watched on his heart clenched.

He knew, of course, that what he was seeing hadn't happened, but it was real. He could smell the scent of late spring, the cloying scent of pollen. He could see the beautiful castle as it was long before the Battle of Hogwarts, lit up as a bright beacon against the darkness of night. It was all there, just as he remembered it, except for Sirius.

Unadulterated panic dug its merciless claws into the Gryffindor's throat, squeezing tightly as the teen struggled to remember where he was and what he was doing, as he desperately sought to remember how his Godfather actually looked all those years ago but he couldn't. The happy nature of his memory was fading, leaving his section of the Patronus prison weak and quivering as he fought to hold on.

If it escaped the prison, they would all be fucked. Though Harry wasn't often one for crude language, he could think of no other alternative phrase that so accurately described what awaited the three of them if the dementor managed to force his section of the shield away.

"SNAP OUT OF IT, POTTER!"

Lucius' iron strong tone effectively captured the creatures attention, drawing the poisonous nature of Harry's vision from before his eyes like venom from a wound but before he could make a move to strengthen his side of the triangle, another vision was upon them.

Only this time, it hadn't come from his own memories.

The-Boy-Who-Lived wondered if the others had been able to see what he'd experienced but as he looked upon the dimly lit halls of Malfoy Manor, he had his answer.

Furious waves of magic tainted the air, making it nearly impossible to breath but as Harry stood among the chaos, he recognized the memory before it even played, despite not having been there first hand.

It was the end of the war, the exact moment Voldemort realized that Harry was hunting his Horcruxes.

Blood stained the floor, hot and heavy beneath his sneakers and as Harry looked down he nearly gagged. The bodies of all those present laid still and unmoving around him, their eyes milky and unknowing as they stared ahead. Voldemort towered above them, the hem of his cloak soaked with the sticky carmine substance, insanity alight within his ruby eyes.

The Malfoys stood silently among it all, waiting for the terror to end, but unlike the last time Harry saw this particular glimpse of Voldemort through the mind link, he didn't exit with Nagini in a sudden pop of Apparation. Haunting vermilion eyes turned towards the youngest Malfoy and within the span of a single moment, Draco was on the floor, screaming as the Cruciatus ravaged his body.

It was striking, the way the dark red substance sat stark against Malfoy's ghostly pale flesh, the way it stained his perfect blonde hair as he writhed in utter agony, slowly losing his mind in an attempt to escape the pain.

Until finally, with an unholy shriek of sheer unadulterated fury, the darkness melted, dripping from their vision like oil over glass, revealing Death at their center, his colorless fingers standing stark against the radiating darkness of the dementor's throat.

It hung limp and lifeless within the white-haired immortal's grasp, before he released it, watching as the corpse seemed to sink into the very Earth like water, turning the grass where it'd fallen black and lifeless. The four of them watched with a certain amount of horrified curiosity as the sour ground began to spread, turning the surrounding plants brown, killing everything in its path before coming to a sudden stop as a fresh sprig of Deadly Nightshade broke through the ground's surface at its heart.

It was beautiful, in a dark and terrifying kind of way but in that moment, Harry couldn't find it in himself to enjoy the rare display. All he could do was fall backwards, his chest heaving with ragged, uneven breaths as he laid against the dew covered blades of grass surrounding the darkened area.

His mind was fried, the flow of his thoughts labored and chaotic as Harry tried to dispel the unnatural sadness that the dementor brought to his heart. He knew what he'd seen wasn't real, that the dementor was the cause of his panic, but as the teen glanced over towards Lucius, he knew he wasn't alone.

In the quiet stretch of silence that followed, Harry felt somebody sit next to him, "Here, I've been told this helps."

Bright green eyes looked up at his mentor with the slightest smirk before he took the piece of offered chocolate with a bittersweet smile. It reminded him of Remus and the very first time they'd met, the familiar soft spoken tone as the amber eyed werewolf offered Harry the sweet treat.

"Thank you."

The green eyed wizard took the chocolate without complaint, sighing contently as the sweet brush of sugar soothed his nerves before a sudden thought struck the teen, Harry's features twisting into a look of startled surprise, "Hang on, how did you do that?"

The green eyed wizard looked to Death, his face thoughtful, "I thought you couldn't kill a dementor!"

Though rather undignified, the white haired immortal couldn't help but to snort, "There's a difference between dying naturally and being touched by Death, Harry."

The elder shook his head, clearly still amused before getting up and offering chocolate to the other two wizards, leaving Harry to grin stupidly at his back before falling back against the grass.

May 20th, 2009

After returning to Grimmauld Place, there was little time for celebration. In fact, the three of them (since Death wasn't plagued by basic human needs) celebrated by taking a quick breakfast before going to bed, each wizard beyond tired.

Only the white haired wizard remained up and running, tasked with beginning the preparations for the wand itself.

Though difficult he'd managed to acquire the necessary strips of cloak but as Ignotus stared down at the unnatural material, he couldn't help but to shutter at the idea of any being willingly bonding to this particular core.

Despite having been severed from the furious dementor hours earlier, the strip of flesh like material still continued to move, writhing within his grasp in a manner quite similar an angry serpent biding its time. It was light, airy in a sort of nonexistent way but also heavy, weighing down against his palm like a physical manifestation of negativity and despair.

Common knowledge told the elder that this particular wand would be powerful, something that hadn't been seen in many years and though Death trusted Harry, he wasn't sure that the thought in itself was reassuring.

With careful consideration, the immortal ripped the writhing piece of material into three equal strands before braiding it with little effort, sharp unfathomable eyes scanning his work for mistakes. Finding none, Death laid the core gently into the well-crafted yew cradle, observing the way the wood seemed to come alive, molding the dementor's cloak firmly to the bottom curve.

It was interesting really, to see the way wands practically made themselves. It was something that could only he described as magical; the way the wood clung and bonded to their presented cores without any prompting, only to still, waiting for the powerful binding magic given by a wizard fully capable of the mysterious magic involved with wandlore.

Keeping a cautious eye on the partially completed wand, Death extracted the vial of Basilisk venom. It was milky, sloshing ominously in the crystal container as the immortal pulled the stopper free, tilting it with steady hands, watching as the thick liquid drizzled down along the cloak strands. He watched with bated breath, hoping the core wouldn't reject the addition. It was a rarity for that to happen, but it wasn't unprecedented. The rejection did happen from time to time, usually when working with more temperamental wand cores such as Veela hair but Death waited patiently for a few more moments before breathing a sigh of relief.

He'd need to return in a few hours to layer on another coat of venom, but for the time being, all was well.

Death hummed, placing a clear glass lid over the merging wand, layering it with a number of nasty wards. He didn't think that'd be necessary, but should anybody other than himself or the three sleeping wizards try to lift the lid, they'd be in for a very unpleasant surprise.

May 21st, 2009

Harry Potter was not usually a wizard that many would associate with desire for revenge in the form of flesh and blood, but that didn't mean that the capability wasn't buried deep within the cockles of his heart.

In his own opinion, Harry firmly believed that there was a place in the world for true, genuine hatred and despite the fact that he was often viewed as a very gentle and compassionate person, Harry too had room in his heart for hatred. It didn't happen often, not really, usually just a flash of momentarily angry displeasure or, at worst, absolutely loathing but every once and awhile, Harry met somebody that he believed would be much better off dead.

It was these thoughts that circled Harry's brain as he waited patiently within the painstakingly revolting pink home of one Dolores Umbridge.

He'd thought long and hard about what witch or wizard he wanted to use as the centerpiece for his sacrifice. The ritual itself demanded a being of magical blood that was fairly powerful and though the toadlike woman he chose wasn't the next Albus Dumbledore by any means, Death assured him that she would work just fine, Especially now that they had two extra wizards to draw additional power from.

It was a pleasant thought, to know that this vile woman would finally get what was coming to her. She'd escaped once, managing to get herself out of the nearly impossible situation with the centaurs only to return two years later to make his life a living hell. Though Voldemort was to blame for Harry becoming the most wanted wizard in Great Britain, the green eyed teen had no doubt in his mind that she'd maliciously enjoyed slapping his face across the countless Undesirable No. 1 posters.

The fact that she'd flourished in the Ministry with the aid of the locket horcrux, able to keep hundreds of dementors at bay with her single feline Patronus spoke immeasurable volumes about the cruel nature of her character.

But not this time.

This time Dolores Umbridge would get exactly what she deserved and as the annoyingly chipper woman in pink finally came home, Harry spared her no sense of guilt or pity as he hit her square in the chest with a well aimed Imperious.

May 22nd, 2009

Under the glass case, the dementor wand sat silent and ominous.

Over the course of the days that followed the cloaks retrieval, each of the four wizards took turns dripping small amounts of basilisk venom over the black threads in the fragile yew casing. There wasn't any particular reasoning behind all of their participation, only the knowledge that, by doing so, they were each taking part in something that would change the world. It was a bit sentimental on all their parts, but none of the four seemed inclined to make jokes or comments about the nature of their devotion.

Despite being in a rush, Harry was keen to take Death's advice and allow the wandcore two days to absorb the venom and settle. They'd applied the final coat and now all that was left was to wait for Ollivander to arrive and seal the connection.

It was not to say that Harry wasn't confident in his wand making abilities, he'd made a couple in the past when absolutely necessary, but the final binding was difficult and the dark haired wizard had no doubt that the dementor core would make it even harder. With something as important as this, the teen wanted an experienced wandmaker in his stead and there was nobody better than Ollivander.

"The escape should hit the papers tomorrow."

Harry sighed, not bothering to look over at the aristocratic blonde, "I'm surprised Draco managed to keep them off the trail this long."

Lucius snickered, crossing his legs in a posh manner as he leaned against the tall back of his arm chair, sharing a look with the abnormally quiet Ravenclaw to his left, "Of course he did, Potter. He's a Malfoy, and a Slytherin."

The-boy-who-lived rolled his eyes shamelessly, his lips curling with a faint smile as he heard Crouch snicker beside him before the teen looked to the empty fireplace, his voice quiet and unsure as budding seeds of doubt began to make themselves known, "Do you think it'll work?"

His two companions were silent, both shocked by the uncertainty his voice painted. Had Harry been looking at him, he might have even thought Lucius appeared surprised at the dark haired wizard's lack of confidence, "Of course it'll work."

The sheer nature of the aristocrat's factual tone made the teen look up, his brows drawn together in a look of confusion that made the elder sigh. Lucius glanced back over at Barty, almost as if he were praying for strength before turning back to Harry.

"Potter, do you realize who you are?"

Harry frowned, obviously not making the connection, "Of course I do, what's that supposed to mean?"

Lucius was not a man of great patience and as he scooted forward in his chair it became apparent to anybody who knew him that, behind his calm composure, the blonde was having a hard time not snapping at the youth, "You're a foolish boy that decided to kill the greatest Dark Lord of our age and succeeded."

The bluntly spoken statement reminded Harry of Professor Snape and for the briefest moment the Gryffindor wondered just how close the two Death Eaters had been before returning to the current conversation, "That was just because of the proph -"

Lucius sneered, not bothering to even cut him off with actual words before he dropped gracefully back against his chair, the melting ice-cubes clinking soundfully against the side of the elder's half emptied glass of Scotch, "Please, Potter. If I wasn't positive you meant that I'd accuse you of fishing for obvious compliments."

Harry's lips pulled down into a distinct frown as he turned back to the fireplace, the briefest layer of hurt circling his heart at the elder's dismissal and Barty's continued silence before he heard a sharp sigh.

"Listen and listen well because I doubt I'll ever say this again." Lucius paused, waiting for the teens unadulterated attention before continuing, "You're the very definition of 'possible', Potter. You've accomplished the impossible more times than any of us are actually aware, I'm sure."

The blonde regarded him with a watchful look, taking a small sip of his drink, "You successfully outwitted the most brilliant wizard of the millennia and let's not forget that you managed to win the Tri-Wizard Tournament," Grey eyes darted to Crouch's hazel ones, "regardless of Crouch's hints."

Barty finally smiled, leaning forward to balance his elbows on his knees, looking much more like a young and careless adult than a battle-worn Death Eater, "Yeah Harry, you defeated a Basilisk at the age of twelve and went toe-to-toe with the Ministry during your fifth year."

The blonde aristocrat chuckled, giving a thoughtful nod, "Merlin, Potter, you broke in and out of Gringotts Bank on the first try. Give yourself a bit of credit."

Harry opened his mouth to speak only to be cut off by the roar of bright green flames, the words of thanks quickly forgotten as Ollivander set foot out of their fireplace, wiping soot from his shoulders.

All throughout his time in the wizarding world, the-boy-who-lived always felt that there was something different about Ollivander, a sort of cryptic wisdom that made him appear ageless. Almost otherworldly in a way, and the moment the wandmaker's bright blue eyes took in the Gryffindor's face, he knew that the elder knew what he was.

"Ah, what a surprise, Mr. Potter. I wondered if you would be the one."

The other two wizards in the room appeared surprised at the statement but Harry only gave a resigned sigh, "Yeah. An interesting development for sure."

Ollivander chuckled at his flat tone, his eyes bright with unspoken knowledge, "And where is your companion, if I may be so bold as to ask?"

The teen continued to ignore the increasingly gobsmacked expressions of the two other adults in the room, his lips thinning in a near frown, "He's tearing down the wards around our wand."

A coy little smile touched the old man's lips as he gestured towards the unspoken room where they kept it, "Lead on, Mr. Potter."

If the others were surprised that Ollivander knew where the wand was without prompting, they didn't stay, both dark wizards merely constant to walk a few steps behind the pair.

Ollivander turned to the immortal Gryffindor, "I must admit, I'm quite curious about your wand, as well as how all of this came to be."

Harry snorted, his amusement apparently returned, "I'll let you know after it's all over."

The teen didn't specify exactly what he was referring to but the elder seemed pleased regardless as they continued down through the winding hallways, not bothering to speak until they rounded the last corner, "Death?"

Color-changing eyes looked up, unspoken words of greeting quickly dying on the immortal's lips as he caught sight of the elder at Harry's side.

It was nearly comical, the way the white haired wizard froze, his inability to think of anything to say apparent on his face before the immortal pushed his surprise aside, standing at his full height to greet their guest, "Mr. Ollivander, it's an honor to meet you."

Harry's features pulled together in a look of confusion, "Hang on, didn't you meet him the other day when you delivered the note?"

The elder shook his head, "Barty wore a convincing Glamor and took the note himself."

Despite the green eyed wizard's desire to question Death further, he shook off his confusion, returning to the task at hand, "Is it ready?"

Seemingly grateful for the distraction, Death smirked, his focus shifting from their faces to the wand, "Yes. I added the last layer of Basilisk venom just before you walked in."

Ollivander raised a single white brow, "Basilisk venom? You've been busy, Harry."

The teen flushed but didn't comment, leading the elder over beside Death, watching as the experienced wandmaker looked over their work, "Thirteen and a half inches, a bit unlucky if I may say so, Mr. Potter." He hummed thoughtfully, continuing his inspection, "Yew if I'm not mistaken, reasonably pliant." But as his elderly fingers traveled down the length of the unsealed seam of wood, his fingers stilled, a slight shake to them, "Dementor's cloak and basilisk venom."

Wide eyes turned to look at him, and as the teen stood under Ollivander's intense scrutiny, he felt stripped down to the bare bones of his soul, the words like sandpaper against his throat, "Yes."

The elder turned back to the wand, his voice low, "I don't pretend to know what you're doing with this, but I have an idea. Be warned Mr. Potter, when I do this, you will have created something that cannot ever be undone."

Harry swallowed hard, his stomach twisting uncomfortably, "I know."

Ollivander nodded, his eyes darting over to linger on Death's face before pricking his wrinkled finger, muttering softly to himself as he ran the bleeding pad of his fingertip along the middle where both yew casings met. Magic thickened within the air, nearly drawing the very breath from their lungs before bursting unexpectedly, leaving the three other mortals shaky on their feet.

The wandmaker gingerly picked up the finished wand, weighing it in his palm, inspecting it with a close eye before laying it back on the table and stepping away, "It is done."

The teen nodded, meeting the serious gaze of the elder unflinching before Ollivander swept from the room without a word, leaving himself, Death, Lucius and Barty to follow.

Death was the first to snap out of his surprise, "Merlin, Harry."

The teen looked up at him in surprise, "What?"

Pale fingers raked through the immortal's colorless hair as he looked back down at his ward with a hiss, "Don't you know what that was?"

Harry, Barty and Lucius all shared a look, each silently asking the others if they had any idea what Death was talking about before Harry turned back to him with a questioning look, his cheeky nature peeking through, "Ollivander, wandmaker?"

In a rare show of a near mortal desperation for strength and patience Death paused, leaning against the hallway, a soft sigh pulling from his lips, "Garrick Ollivander isn't just some wandmaker. He's a true immortal, Harry."

Three sets of eyebrows skyrocketed at the declaration with Barty being the first to speak, "What do you mean? How can he be?"

Death shook his head before continuing on down the hall, "I don't know, but they exist. Human beings that never age, that go on through the ages. He's the first one I've ever personally met."

Harry frowned in obvious bewilderment, "Hang on, back up a second. What exactly does that mean?"

Ignotus glanced back at his young ward, his voice soft, "It means that he's been alive longer than me, Harry, and probably my predecessor too."

The small group finally reached the entrance of the den, each of them stunned into thoughtful silence by Death's declaration.

Ollivander's attention turned to back to the dark haired Gryffindor as they entered, his face solemn, "Be very cautious in your actions, Mr. Potter. The dead have seen things we can't even hope to imagine."

Harry wanted to ask how he could possibly know but the words refused to come, his limbs almost mechanical as he reached for the gold he'd promised the elder, only to be stunned as Ollivander waved it off, "I have no need for your gold, not this time."

Ollivander grabbed a fist full of Floo powder, his shoulders hunching over as he stepped into the gate, his eyes meeting Harry's for the last time, "Don't forget to come by when it's all over, Mr. Potter. I knew from the moment you bonded with the Holly and Phoenix wand that you were destined for great things, and I would love to know how all of this came to be."

And without waiting for a response, the man threw down the powder, calling out for Diagon Alley before being whisked away in a burst of green.

A/N: Okay, I know I promised and I'm REALLY sorry. I really am. I know Voldemort hasn't been resurrected -.-" I know and I apologize but a bunch of other nifty stuff got in the way and just UGH, Lucius and Barty guys. They're chatty. I couldn't help it. Please forgive 3 However, Voldemort's ressurection is 100% gaurenteed in the next chapter. On my word as an author, I promise.

Much love