"Are you sure about this, professor?" Andromeda Tonks asked.
The older man nodded, "We are losing this war, Andromeda. This is our best chance."
"I still don't like it," Andromeda sighed.
The basement of Grimmauld Place had been transformed into a ritual space not seen in years. Candles made from bone dust and shavings of silver. The wick was made from the hair of the dead. Each one burned black when it was lit. They were expertly placed along a circle drawn in chalk of unknown origin. The assembled members of the Order took places around the room with determination on their faces. They had all lost loved ones and knew the war was not going their way. The Ministry was already rough spot, now it was only functional in name.
They began to chant words that had not been spoken since the time of the druids. The flames grew with each word.
A giant skeletal hand burst from the floor, shattering the stone. It stopped perfectly against the chalk circle as though the world didn't exist beyond it. The hand faded away into a swirl of smoke that thickened as the chant came to an end. Silence settled into the room as the flames of each candle died. The smoke took the form of a large skeleton that nearly touched the ceiling before it shifted into a hooded form with no apparent lower body, finally it settled on the form and size of a human man.
"Again?" A tired voice spoke from inside the circle. "Tell me, Dumbledore, why should I help you this time?"
The smoke cleared to reveal an attractive man with wild, shoulder-length black hair. He wore a simple blue two-piece suit. His striking green eyes were shielded by a pair of thin glasses. The metal on them shimmered in a light that wasn't there.
"Do you mean Albus Dumbledore?" The professor asked.
Harry stepped up to the circle and studied the group arranged around the room. Some people he recognized easily. Andromeda, Ted, and Nym stood beside Sirius, Bella, and a woman he had only seen in photographs. Alice Longbottom and the man next to her, Frank Longbottom. He had seen them once or twice during his many visits to St. Mungo's. The long-term care area wasn't one he frequented. Things got more interesting as he continued down the line. He recognized Minerva McGonagall, but the young man that bore a startling resemblance standing beside her was new. Then came the usual smattering of Weasleys, though the stretch was longer than expected. More ladies with the familiar red hair were among them as well. The couple on the other side of Weasley Row made him shake his head. A visibly pregnant Narcissa Malfoy, though that probably wasn't her name, stood beside a man that had to be James Potter. Moving on, from there revealed the last two Marauders, including a healthy Peter Pettigrew. The sight of Severus Snape with proper bathing habits was a shock, but the woman that stood next to him was what truly stopped him cold. Lily Potter. Rather, Lily Evans if he had to guess. He prayed that it wasn't Lily Snape. The world could burn if that was the case.
"I'm sorry to tell you this, but Albus Dumbledore died some time ago," The professor said.
Harry turned to face the professor only to let out a loud, harsh laugh. He had never met the original version of Tom Riddle, but he knew enough about Voldemort to recognize the bastard.
"Oh," Harry said through laughter. "This is rich."
"Professor," Molly Weasley spoke. "Are you sure the ritual worked?"
Professor Thomas Riddle nodded, "Nothing would have happened if we got it wrong. This is the Avatar of Death that we requested."
Harry summoned a chair from across the room. It floated over the chalk line before settling behind him. He sat, hooking one leg over the armrest.
"That's me," Harry smiled. "It's Master of Death, not Avatar."
The assembled group stared at him in disbelief.
"Eh," He said as he stood. "Fine."
The candles sparked to life once more. Flames rose far higher than should have been possible. A harsh cold emanated from the black fire sending a latticework of frost along the floor and walls. The space inside the circle was completely obscured. When it cleared the man had been replaced by a cloaked figure holding a scythe.
"Is that better?" The voice sounded like bones dragging along stone.
In a blink the reaper was gone and Harry once more stood in its place. A side-table, bottle of liquor, and the Daily Prophet had appeared at some point as well. Harry ignored them as the group broke into arguments. The bottle of liquor poured a bit of amber liquid into a tumbler seemingly of its own accord. Harry took the drink as he flipped through the paper. He had had enough of being summoned to take care of Voldemort. It happens almost every month. No wonder everyone wanted him to take care of things in his original world, the place fell apart without him. He had lost count of how many times he had been summoned to a world where Voldemort was winning, had won, or some variation of the theme. It had gotten to the point that he could finish the entire stretch in a couple of days. Destroy the horcruxes, kill the Death Eaters, and finish Tommy boy in public to make sure everyone knew the bastard was dead for good. It made for a busy weekend.
The Prophet was in fine form. Regardless of the world, the paper was basically a Ministry mouthpiece and gossip-rag than actual news. It helped him get a better understanding of this world. For one, the goblins had locked down the lobby of Gringotts and only allowed entry with appointments. Otherwise, business was done via a row of enchanted teller windows. The date probably wasn't accurate as the paper had been read multiple times by other people before it reached him. Not even the Prophet could get the year wrong.
Late Summer 1995.
"Mister Death?" Thomas Riddle asked.
Harry looked up at him with a bright smile, "That's Lord Mister Death."
"Lord Mister Death?" Riddle repeated.
Harry folded the paper, took one more drink, then stood, "You've got me curious, Tommy. What made you so desperate to summon me?" He held up his hand. "Wait. Let me guess. Evil Dumbledore?"
Riddle shook his head.
"Trixie is right there, so she's not the big bad," Harry muttered. "Is it Grindelwald?"
Riddle shook his head again, "Albus Dumbledore and Geralt Grindelwald fell to each other in a duel years ago."
"Sounds like they did the vow right in this world," Harry rolled his eyes.
"Vow?" Riddle asked.
Harry waved the question away, "The Invisible Dagger."
"I am not familiar with the term," Riddle replied.
Harry sighed, "Love is a dagger. Lovers swear not to harm each other. They use a vow to bind their life forces. Both die if one kills the other. It was a tradition that started to prevent political marriages ending in bloodshed."
"Interesting," Riddle said.
"Why would I be evil?" Bellatrix asked.
Harry chuckled, "Trixie, you're always evil."
"Why do you look like me?" James Potter asked.
Harry ran a hand through his hair, "Nope, you look like me."
"What does that mean?" James snapped.
Harry stood, brushed himself off, and gave an exaggerated bow, "Lord Mister Death Peverell."
"That's not your name," Narciss said. "I know that look."
Harry flashed her with an innocent smile, "You're always a sharp one, Cissy."
"You seem to know us," Riddle spoke once more. "But you've asked after Albus Dumbledore twice now."
Harry ignored the question as he strode over to the chalk line. He did a slow circuit of it before coming to a stop before Riddle.
"Nice circle," He nodded in approval. "You would not believe how many times people leave a crack in the defenses."
He turned his attention back to the others in the room. His green eyes flashed pure white for a moment. There were always signs when he used deaths power. He knew them all now as well as the day, and method, they would die. Their entire lives would be open to him if he concentrated on each individual, but that took all the fun out of things.
Fabian and Gideon Prewett were among the Weasley Row, as were their spouses and grown children. He had never met them in the many times he had been summoned.
"What is the date?" Harry asked.
"September Fourth, Nineteen Ninety-Six," Minerva McGonagall answered.
"Thank you, Minnie," Harry replied. "That explains why there aren't any kids here." He paused. "Or did you think I'd demand a virgin sacrifice?"
"He's definitely related to you, Prongs," Sirius chuckled.
Harry drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair, "Let's get one with this. What do you need me to do? Then we can discuss payment."
"I thought my soul was payment," Riddle said.
He waved the statement away, "I have your soul a few dozen times over."
Riddle froze at the words. His face went pale making him look closer to the Tom Riddle from previous encounters.
"Her name is Metis," Andromeda Tonks spoke up. "We don't know where she came from. One day she simply appeared. Muggles are being exposed to magic to the point where the remaining Aurors are too busy adjusting memories rather than enforcing the law. Pureblood Manors have been razed to stone. The only place with wards strong enough to keep her out is Hogwarts. Thankfully, she hasn't targeted public places."
"Titaness of wisdom," Harry muttered as he tapped his chin, "I don't feel any real titans. They are using the name as a cover." He flashed a wicked smile. "Then why aren't you summoning me at Hogwarts?"
"Pardon?" Riddle asked.
"We're under Fidelius," Peter Pettigrew of all people answered.
Harry looked over his shoulder at the wizard, "Of course you would know."
Peter opened his mouth to speak but didn't know what to say.
"A new big bad," Harry mused. "Oh!" He sat up. "Is it Rita Skeeter?!"
"This is pointless," Snape grumbled.
Harry pushed the chair back until it was horizontal and held it there, "Quiet, Sev, the grown ups are talking." His eyes narrowed. "What's this?" He pointed from Snape to Lily. "I'm glad to see you discovered the wonders of regular bathing, but she is way out of your league."
"She is my sister-in-law," Snape said glaring.
His jaw dropped, "You and Petunia?"
"How do you know my sister?" Lily asked.
Harry gave a dark chuckle, "Don't worry, Lily. She's safe from me." He wiggled his eyebrows. "Is there a Mister Lily?"
She glared at him but didn't reply. Harry let the chair fall all the way back. He rode it down as though it now wasn't flat on the floor. Casually, he poured himself another drink, swirled it around the tumbler, then drank it. The liquid acted as though the gravity had shifted without spilling a single drop.
"You had my attention, now you have my interest," Harry said as the chair snapped back to standard arrangement. "You want her dead?"
Riddle nodded.
"Thank Merlin's Left Nut. You have no idea how tired I am of dealing with pacifists. Let's discuss payment." He looked at Narcissa. "First born?"
James moved to stand in front of her, "This is our third."
"Shame," Harry gave a dramatic sigh. "That's fine, I've raised enough children." He rolled his eyes. "Contrary to believe, virgin sacrifices are more trouble than they are worth. Especially if things are lost in translation and you lot kill them."
"Wouldn't the Master of Death want them dead?" Riddle asked.
Harry shook his head, "Why would I want more dead people?"
"You don't want souls, a first born, or a virgin sacrifice," Sirius said. "What do you want?"
He stood and walked to the edge of the circle, "Let's go with the classics. You have one year to bring me the Hallows."
"The Hallows are a myth," Minerva said.
Harry swapped over to a bad Scottish Accent, "That's where you're wrong, lassie." He switched back to his normal voice. "Three Hallows per world and I want them."
"One year isn't a lot of time," Riddle cut in.
He nodded, "Fine. You'll have up to one year after I've finished. Do we have a deal?" He held out his hand. His fingers sparked as they made contact with the barrier. "Come on, won't you shake this poor sinners' hand?"
Riddle let out a tired sigh, then took his hand. The barrier dropped once they touched. Harry stepped out of the circle and stretched his arms out wide.
"Can't you just kill her now?" Sirius asked. "You are the Avatar- Master of Death."
Harry chuckled, "Where's the fun in that?"
"Fun?" Molly snapped. "How is this fun? Our friends and family are dying."
He patted her on her head, "Never change, Mollywobbles."
She slapped his hand. Harry chuckled as he waved a hand at the ritual space. There wasn't any fanfare, light, or sign of magic as it went from a mess to clean. He walked over to James Potter.
"We can get one out of the way," He held out his hand. "My cloak, if you will."
James shook his head, "I don’t' have it."
Harry tilted his head to the side as though he was listening to a sound only he could hear, "It's at Hogwarts." He smiled. "You gave it to your kid?"
"She's very responsible," Narcissa spoke up.
Harry's smile softened as he addressed Narcissa, "What's her name?"
"Dracine Dorea Potter," She said proudly.
He chuckled, "Dracine? If you had a boy would his name be Draco?"
"That was the alternative. How did you know?" Narcissa asked taking a cautious step back.
Harry shrugged, "Are both of your kids at Hogwarts."
"Yes," Narcissa nodded.
"We have instituted an early childhood program to keep them safe," Riddle said. "Hogwarts has become the safest place in the world."
Harry rolled his eyes, "I've heard that before."
"It's true," Molly spoke up. "None of the attacks have touched Hogwarts. Not even the time Hogsmeade was stormed with her minions."
Harry's eyes flashed a bright emerald, "Minions? She has minions? Of course, she has minions. Do they wear masks? Special robes?"
"You need to take this seriously," Riddle chided.
"Don't you dare," Narcissa pointed to Sirius who was about to speak.
The animagus sighed. He didn't look guilty in the slightest.
"I'll need to know everything you have on her activities," Harry stated. "Dates, attacks, stolen items, designs for her minions, and any personal appearances."
"Lily can help you with that," Riddle said. "The rest of us need to get back to work."
Harry raised an eyebrow, "Work?"
"Hogwarts," Riddle replied. "We've had a drastic increase of students and staff."
Harry smiled, "Are you the Headmaster?"
"Deputy," Riddle answered quickly. "I teach Exploration of the Dark Arts." He motioned to the now empty ritual space. "Which is why they asked for my assistance."
"Exploration of the Dark Arts?" Harry asked.
Riddle nodded, "We allow for open communication for proper use and a safe place to study the effects the Dark Arts have on a spellcaster."
"Interesting," Harry said. "Very interesting. Time for that later." He spun to face Lily. "Come along, Miss Evans, we have a mystery to solve."
The group watched as the Master of Death bowed to the witch in question and offered his arm for her to take.
Minerva moved to stand beside Thomas Riddle, "I have the feeling we are going to regret doing this."
"As do I," Riddle muttered. "As do I."