The Final Nexus – Harry’s Choice

In the Human City of London – 22 December 2011

Chapter one

Harry hesitated as he reached the Death Veil. Part of him felt incredulous that he was even contemplating stepping into it, but a much larger part was eager, ready to take this final step. Losing Neville, Luna and Teddy had been the final straw. He had little left to stay for, and every reason to go. The Veil called to him, as it always had.

As he paused, he noticed that the archway radiated warmth and welcome. He felt his magic answer, rising to swirl playfully around him. He tipped his head back and luxuriated in the sensation for a moment, then turned to the wizard beside him.

George Weasley looked decades older than his thirty three years. Learning the truth about the criminal acts of several of his family had taken its toll, and he no longer fought the drain on his magic and life force that losing Fred had created. He had agreed with Harry in regards to the path he was about to take, and had helped where he could. Now he was here to say one last goodbye before relaxing and joining his brother, the other half of his soul.

“Well,” Harry finally said, extending one hand “Helios speed your steps my friend, and Selene guide your journey home.” He passed George a pebble inscribed with runes. “Use a sticking charm to place this on your chest, and when you go everything within two centimetres of your skin will go too. Nothing left for anyone to tamper with. Joyous passing George.”

“Joyous sunrise Harry.”

George stepped back, clutching his runestone, and watched silently as Harry Potter, known to be the last of the Potter line walked through the ragged curtain of the artifact known to the British Ministry as the Death Veil, carrying all his worldly goods with him. There was no sound in the room as the Final Nexus willingly quit the realm of his birth.

The muggle world continued all unknowing, while in the wizarding world long standing enchantments lost their permanence and began to unravel. Spells slowly became harder to cast, the potency of potion ingredients reduced, magical cores began to shrink. Magic began to retreat, and magical creatures started to release their essences into the flow in order to reborn in another place. It would not be noticed for another five years. By then, it was over five years too late.

***

Walking through the veil was akin to passing from a freezer through to a nicely warmed room. Harry felt the tension stored in his muscles over his lifetime dissipate and felt something inside him break. A flood of fire rushed through his veins, and then his magic was dancing over his skin, lifting his hair, pinging on his fingernails. He could feel it pooling in his eyes, a sharp sting then a warm glow, and his senses sang to him. Overlaid all that was a sense of relief, as if a belt that all his life had been two notches too tight had finally been loosened. It was the most incredible feeling that he could recall.

“So.” Harry sighed. “A further binding. I wonder…”

Two bindings on his core (amongst other things) had been found when he had been touring a hospital in the magical district of Toronto. The hospitals director had been showing off their new diagnostic stones, and offered a free scan as demonstration.

***“You see, Lord Potter, we place the first stone here, over your magical core, just a small sticking charm to hold it… Then the second here on your forehead, the third on your wand hand… yes that’s it, then as you’re right handed your right foot… your left foot… and finally your left hand… there. Then we activate the runes like so… and a diagram appears on this… wait. What on earth is that? And that? Healer? Healer! Are these stones malfunctioning?”***

That had been the beginning of the end. Or maybe the beginning of the end of the end. The potions, spells and core bindings the hospitals diagnostics had found on him had required immediate intervention. When considered with the spells found on his wand a grim picture was painted indeed. The core bindings in particular were a bomb waiting to go off, and needed several healers working in unison to unlock safely. He was told that it would have been fairly simple to adjust them to release explosively when casting, destroying him, and taking out everything in a fifty metre radius.

Given that Harry had been to Saint Mungos half a dozen times in the previous years to check his fertility, and had been through several exhaustive examinations, he felt somewhat jaded as to the trust he could therefore place in the health care in his own country. When he mentioned this to the healers in Toronto, they were scathing in their denunciation of their British brethren. (He had later discovered that not long after his birth legislation was passed in the Wizengamot removing the requirement of healers to take any kind of oath to be recognized as legitimate practitioners, ostensibly so that morally upright healers would not be required to do their best to heal any Death Eaters. The only way to be sure that any healer in England was actually doing their best to heal you was to require them to give a specific oath.)

Harry shook off the faint melancholy that reflection had given him, and as had been his habit the last few months, buoyed his spirits by repeating the paraphrase he had taken to heart recently “I willnae be fooled again!”

“A fine motto, although not perhaps fully practicable” an amused female voice from behind him made Harry spin in shock. What the bloody hell had he been thinking, dropping his guard like that? Had the release of his magic caused his wits to go to sleep?

He was standing on an empty plain, dark sky above him, a woman waiting. Her pale green robes glowed, and she was smiling. The woman spread her hands towards him in a gesture of greeting and inclined her head.

“Greetings, Harry of England, son of Alvalia of Harailin, Arthalian of Moreithil, and of James of England. I have had many names, but one you may be familiar with is Hecate, daughter of Perses, and of Asteria.” Son of who? Three parents? Where was Lily Evans? Hecate? Harry could only recall from his primary school classes in Little Whinging that Hecate was a goddess associated with the underworld, which made sense considering he had passed through the Death Veil. His magic flitted about him in delight, clearly pleased with the situation, which was comforting. In more recent years his magic had been an incredibly accurate indicator of danger, and he had learned to pay attention. He bowed low.

“Greetings my lady. So… I’m dead then?” Harry asked. “Also, I didn’t quite catch those names. Are you saying I had three parents? And my mother wasn’t my mother?” Hecate laughed.

“We have much to talk of, Harry of England. But let us be comfortable before we begin. Please, sit and drink. You have my assurance that you are safe in this place.” With a graceful gesture two armchairs appeared with a low coffee table between them. A steaming goblet sat at either end. Hecate sat and raised a goblet, Harry hesitantly followed her example and they both drank.

Despite the steam, the liquid was cool and refreshing, light and crisp with a hint of mint. His magic got even more hyperactive, zinging along his skin in all directions. He sat astonished as the scar that had been cut into his hand with a blood quill grew fainter and disappeared, realizing that the magic he could feel on his back would be erasing the scars of his time with the Dursleys. He raised a hand to feel where his curse scar had been, fighting the urge to check his basilisk scar. Lowering his arm Harry chuckled wryly. Well, his magic was right again, but it WAS a bit unnerving.

“Serves me right for not asking I suppose. Lady Hecate?” Harry’s voice grew slightly plaintive. “Where are we? What’s going on? Am I dead? You know, my destiny senses are tingling like crazy. You’re going to pin another prophecy on me, aren’t you?”

“Which of your questions would you like answered first, Harry of England?” Hecate’s voice was kind.

“I suppose firstly, ‘Am I dead?’ Also, please, just Harry is fine.” Harry was slightly uncomfortable with the formality. Should he be calling her Hecate of The Plain? She hadn’t used a place name to introduce herself. Hecate of Greece, perhaps?

“As you choose, Harry. You are not dead. And where you are going is largely dependant on the choices you make here.” She laughed at the exasperated groan he gave her. “We are at a crossroads, an entrance to many places, and I am here because this is part of my domain. A combination of factors; your conception, your uniting of all three artifacts of the dead, your choosing of your own free will to leave the realm of your birth, that in your choosing you utilized the final gateway, and on the winter solstice, these together mean that not only are you not dead, but also that you have several options available to you, which is not the usual fate of those that pass through here alive.”

Hecate spoke with a measured cadence in a calm tone that Harry found easy to listen to. His thoughts flicked to Sirius. What had been his fate after coming through the veil still alive, although probably injured? He turned his mind away with a wrench. He had learnt over time that obsessing over Sirius did no good, and he knew he had to get past what happened. Hecate waited until he was once more paying attention, and then continued.

“You are aware of the concept of alternate universes, where each universe is divided at the point of a choice made. It may be something as simple as taking a left turn instead of a right, where choosing right means averting a disaster, and left does not. Popular theory is that there are an infinite number of these alternate universes as each choice made by every person spawns a new universe. This is not so. There are indeed many, but the number is finite. Also, alternate universes are only created as the result of the choices of a Being of Crossroads, a Nexus. Because of the circumstances of your arrival here, you may choose to pass through to one of these alternate universes.”

“Right. Circumstances. I take you’re referring to those ‘factors’ you mentioned? My conception? So that would be the explanation of the three parents and the no Lily Evans?” Harry really wanted to hear the answer to this one.

“Lily Evans was not the name gifted to your mother at birth. There has long been a prophecy that the one who would bring forth the Final Nexus would be born of elves, and marked by hair the colour of fire. In the Elven Land of Harailin, in the year of 1959 as the humans reckon, your mother was born to the Lord and Lady. Her name was Alvalia, and she was their second born.”

“Alvalia…” Harry mused. “My mother was an elf? So how did she become Lily Evans, raised with humans?”

“The elven domains had long ago made treaties with regards to the upbringing of the prophesied child. It had been agreed that the Bringer needed to know the Human realm, to be able to fully understand and assist the Final Nexus. So when Hamadriel of Ornthr the Lady of Harailin, bonded of Lord Lethavyl of Harailin bore a daughter with hair of fire, they with heavy hearts did their duty and notified the Wise Ones. Alvalia was left with her family for one month, until the Wise Ones came for her. Then the oldest of the Wise Ones traveled with her to the world of humans. He gave his magic and life force over to the enchantment that would ensure that Alvalia would not be recognized as anything other than human, and that she was hidden from elven senses. Then Alvalia was left with the Evans, who wished for another child that they could not have, and they called her Lily.”

Harry was staggered. These elves gave up their daughter just like that? Had she been dropped off on a doorstep like he had?

Hecate observed him for a moment, then extended her hand.

“It may be easier to understand if you see it. Take my hand Harry, and witness the joy and sadness of elves over the birth of your mother.” Harry swallowed hard, but took her hand. It was not completely like viewing a memory in a pensieve, as he could not see Hecate or himself, but in other ways it felt similar. Harry saw his grandparents as they wept over losing his mother, smiled at the aunt he had never met as she doted over her baby sister, singing to her in a high sweet voice. His throat closed up as he witnessed the misery that they tried to hide when it was time for Alvalia to leave with the white robed elves that came for her.

Hecate released his hand and they both sat back. She appeared to be content to wait for Harry to collect himself, so he propped his elbows on the arms of the chair, clasped his hands in front of his chest and contemplated his thumbnail while he thought about what he had seen. They had loved her so much, been so unhappy to lose her. They had unhesitatingly done their duty, and without rancour. The sadness they felt was palpable, yet they displayed no signs of resentment. They were truly remarkable, and he was honoured to be their grandson.

Something occurred to Harry. His mother was adopted, which meant Petunia was not… that meant the blood wards… Harry felt anger start to roil deep in his belly. He had accepted the necessity of his childhood with the Dursleys solely because of the protection left by his mother, the blood wards anchored by Petunia that he had been told had helped him defeat Volde-Quirrill in his first year at Hogwarts. It was all a lie? He had gone back year after year for nothing? The twisting in his belly started to spread, his magic felt sharp, like there was an acidic taint souring the usually pleasant sensation.

A goblet appeared in his field of vision, and he looked up from his now tightly clenched fingers to see Hecate standing before him. His anger dimmed, the tang of acid fading slightly. He took the goblet she offered, and looked curiously at the liquid inside it. She answered his unspoken question.

“Harry, we have much to discuss and though there are a multitude of reasons for your wrath, we do not have unlimited time. This is a calming draught, it will allow you to consciously calm yourself. It will not stop you from becoming angry, but it will allow you to control that anger so that you remain functional. It is safe.” Hecate waited for Harry to drink, before reclaiming the goblet and placing it on the table. As she sat again Harry felt his magic come fully under his control for the first time since the blocks were removed in Canada.

He was wishing for a pen and paper so that he could make sure he didn’t forget any questions that occurred to him when he noticed that there was a pad and pen on the table. Had they been there before? Giving a small shrug, he picked them up. In the scheme of things, it really didn’t matter. He wrote ‘blood wards and blocks’ on the paper, and looked back to Hecate.

“So that was Alvalia, my mother. How is it that I have two fathers?” Harry asked, getting back on track.

“James and Lily Potter decided that with the uncertainty of the war, they needed to start their family as soon as possible. At Lily’s insistence, they were both checked over for any issues that would prevent the birth of a healthy child, and it was then that they discovered that James had been rendered infertile. He had been dosed over some time with a potion, and it was now irreversible. Distraught, he told his young wife. The family magic of the House of Potter is ancient and the thought of it dying with him was more than he could bear. Lily agreed that the Potter family magic should not be allowed to die.

“After talking over several options together, they came up with a plan. Lily would find and sleep with a man who looked superficially like James, whilst under the effects of a fertility potion. James would adopt the resultant child in magic, blood and love, thus continuing his magical line. James active participation in this plan meant that the marriage vows each took were not breached.

“It was agreed that Lily would go outside the magical world to find a donor so that there would be no complications with other family magic and inheritances and no line theft issues. For political reasons, they did not want the world knowing that there was anything unusual with the Potter line, so they kept the plan as secret as possible. The only person who they made aware of the details was Sirius Black of England, and they swore him to secrecy. Sirius went with Lily to make sure she stayed safe, and to surreptitiously check that the man chosen was not a wizard.

“The man that Lily chose however, while not a wizard (as proved by the spell Sirius used), wasn’t human either. Arthalian of Moreithil, in the Aerie of Snow Eagles was in the Human realm making a journey of self discovery. Having reached adult hood, he was on a tour through the realms. In the Human realm, he had disguised himself as was customary so as not to be recognized as an elf. Elves are not able to breed with humans, so Arthalian took no steps to control his fertility.

“However, as we know Lily was an elf. Because of that, while all tests would show her as completely fertile she would never have been able to have children with James, or any other human. Also, she was exceptionally young as far as elves go. Physically, she had only just become able to bear children, and a pregnancy at that age was very dangerous. On the night of the autumn equinox, while using a fertility potion she met and bedded Arthalian, who did not recognize her as an elf.

“The next day, James, Lily, and Sirius were able to confirm that conception had taken place, and they performed the adoption rite to make you a Potter, and James’ son. Part of that rite included James vow to be responsible for you in all ways until the day of his death.

“The elven gestation period is forty five weeks, which is several weeks longer than the human gestation period. While Lily, James and Sirius thought you were long overdue to be born, you were actually a little early.

“Because of the vow James took and the enchantment that had been placed on Lily to hide her from elven senses, your family in the elven realm were not made aware of your birth. There is a bond that joins elven close kin, called the infans animus, so named as it activates at birth. You will have a bond with your children, your parents, your siblings and their children. Cousins have no natural bond, but one can be created with very little effort. So had James not made that vow, were Lily not under that spell, your grandparents, aunt and father in the elven realm would have known of your birth and come looking for you. As it was, your bond with them activated on the night of samhain in 1981.” Hecate stopped and waited for Harry to speak.

“The night Peter Pettigrew led Tom Riddle to the house in Godric’s Hollow. The night my parents died.” Harry was glad that he’d accepted the calming draught that Hecate had offered him. He couldn’t imagine how he would be coping without it.

“But then why didn’t they come for me?”

Once again Hecate offered her hand. She smiled at Harry gently, her eyes a warm golden brown and infinitely compassionate.

“They did Harry. Or at least, they tried to. Arthalian stopped his search through the realms only when you passed through the Death Veil. Come, watch with me what happened in the elven realm, when your father became aware of you.” Harry nodded and placed his hand in hers.

He was in a room with a balcony and two windows, but no other door that he could see. The male elf (his father?) reading in a chair jerked, stopped reading to send a short note and immediately left. Harry found himself quite distracted by Arthalian’s wings. His father could fly? Unfortunately his pen and paper didn’t come with him, but he made a mental note to ask about that. To be able to fly… Harry came back to himself as Arthalian approached a group of stately buildings set on a plain. The possibility of flying had done much to buoy his spirits. He had been devastated when he was unable to find an animagus form, certain he should have been an avian of some kind. Now, if his biological father had wings…

Harry watched as Arthalian met three other elves, and realized as they were speaking that they were all here for him. They had felt his pain, and had dropped everything to come and see how they could find him. By the greetings, and from what Hecate had said, these were important people. And they were here for him! Harry was once again grateful for that potion. Maybe he should see if Hecate could give him the brewing instructions.

When he finally saw Arthalian and his companions enter the portal on their way to the human realm, to search for a child they had never met and that there was no hope of finding, Harry felt some long held tightness inside him ease. He had been looked for. Someone had cared for him, and looked for him all that time he was in his cupboard wishing to be found. He released Hecate’s hand and sat back, mind working furiously.

When they had spoken of losing his presence, Harry’s mind immediately leapt to those infernal blood wards that Dumbledore had always been harping on about. Harry’s notion after finding out that Lily was adopted was that there had been no blood wards at all. However something had clearly hidden him from his family, and from followers of Tom Riddle that may have been hunting him after the loss of their master. So that meant Dumbledore had set wards, perhaps using his blood and Lily’s sacrifice. But they could not have been sealed by Petunia accepting him into her house. If what Harry thought had happened was true, the wards would have held up anywhere. And if that was the case, they would have been powered solely by Harry. Or maybe Harry and the magic of Lily’s sacrifice and whatever runic ward she had set over him.

He was staggered when he heard that the wards could not have kept out those who intended him ill, although on reflection, Marge Dursley would never have been able to enter Privet Drive if they had. Vernon and Petunia would have been unable to enter their own house for that matter. Had Dumbledore known that when he had chosen which wards to set? A memory rose up in his mind. From that awful time directly after losing Sirius, when his entire brain had felt numb and on fire at the same time. Dumbledore’s words to a fifteen year old Harry, now more sinister and terrible than ever before.

“You had suffered. I knew you would when I left you on your aunt and uncle’s doorstep.”

And his later assertion that it was so that Voldemort and his followers could not touch him where his mothers blood dwelt had already been proven false. Harry had been receiving debilitating visions even before Voldemort was resurrected. And if his scar really was a horcrux (Harry was taking nothing that Dumbledore had ever said on faith at this point) then Voldemort was already inside the wards, albeit only as a small presence. And according to what Dumbledore said later, he knew this when the wards were set.

Throughout his life Harry spent all his time reacting to everything around him. He was taught at the Dursleys that initiative was useless, and that academic excellence was punished severely. From the time he arrived in the Wizarding World till long after Voldemort was defeated, the hits had kept coming hard and fast. He didn’t have the tools required to do anything else but react, or the time and (after a decade of the Dursleys beating academic interest out of him) the motivation to find them.

And aside from the ever present threat of Voldemort, he had reacted on an individual basis to each issue as it presented itself, starting all the way back in first year, on that first train ride where he had opened himself to Ron, telling him about his awful home life and that had cheered him up. And after that, he treated each of Ron’s betrayals as separate events, not as the damning litany of disloyalty and dishonour that they really were. Harry always accepted Ron’s apologies and resumed his friendship with him. Right up until it was finally shoved in his face that Ron had never been his friend, had always been out for what he could get, and was actively sabotaging him on the orders of both his mother and Dumbledore.

Every single time he discovered a new betrayal, he had reacted to it as a separate act, rather than the orchestrated production that it was turning out to be. Inhaling deeply to settle himself, he looked over to the goddess patiently awaiting him.

“Lady Hecate, I am beginning to realize, rather belatedly I admit, that few of the misfortunes in my somewhat unfortunate life are in any way accidental. It seems that Dumbledore has been doing his best to keep me downtrodden and under the control of others all my life. Am I reading this right? It’s not paranoia if they really are out to get you after all.” Harry asked her, deciding that he should find out as much as possible in the time he had here. Hecate smiled approvingly at him.

“Albus Dumbledore’s interference in your family came even before your birth.” Hecate stated. “Albus Dumbledore was the wizard that potioned James Potter and Sirius Black to irreversible sterility. The potion he fed them is a little known one, and was created in the fourteenth century by a rather disreputable wizard named Chauncey Oldridge, a gamester who bred crups for racing. The potion was developed to increase aggression and speed, and to be undetectable by standard methods. It took Chauncey Oldridge three years to accept that all his prize winning animals were sterile as a side effect of his potion, and fairly soon after that he contracted dragon pox and died. His private journals detailing his experiments were handed down through family lines until 1953 when Justus Pilliwickle, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and the last of his line died, leaving all his possessions to Dumbledore in thanks for him stopping Gellert Grindlewald.

“The potioning of James Potter and Sirius Black was the first time that Dumbledore had tried using that potion, and Lily’s subsequent pregnancy and your birth convinced Albus Dumbledore that while the potion sterilizes crups, it does not have the same side effect on wizards. Incidentally, the increase in aggression the potion caused in both of them spurred many of their nastier pranks and Lily Evans would have nothing to do with James Potter and Sirius Black while the potion was in their system.”

“But why?” Harry asked. “Why did he bother in the first place?”

“Albus Dumbledore of England is a sociopath. He believes that he knows what the best is for the world and everyone in it, and he only listens to what he wishes to hear. He has perfected a persona of kindly and powerful benefactor, and has used his defeat of his former lover to enhance his reputation as a light wizard. His position as headmaster of Britain’s most prestigious school has ensured that he remains visible to the upcoming leaders, and he peddles contacts and favours amongst them most astutely. His other positions are less important to him, but also assist in the cultivation of his image as the wise wizard who knows everyone.

“When he realized that his ex-lover Gellert Grindlewald had used a dark ritual sacrificing the future of his line, in other words his ability to have children, to enhance his power making him the most powerful wizard in the world, Albus Dumbledore also chose to do the ritual. The difference being that he chose to sacrifice the future of his line in order to have the power to defeat his erstwhile friend. Since Albus Dumbledore already had a son, his sacrifice was also called for as part of the ritual.”

“He killed his own son?” Harry was sickened. He could understand Dumbledore manipulating and arranging accidents for people who meant nothing to him. He didn’t agree with it, but it made sense that a sociopath wouldn’t care. But to end the life in cold blood of his own son for no other reason than prestige… Harry came to the conclusion that anything he heard about what Dumbledore had done from now on no longer had the power to shock him.

He wondered briefly about the poor boy Dumbledore had sacrificed. To be so betrayed… in comparison he was lucky. Despite all the other betrayals in his life, his parents had loved him. The two who had held him as a baby had not hesitated to sacrifice their lives for him, and neither had his godfather. And the other one searched for him his whole life. He wished fiercely that he could have known them. Even with Sirius there was so much lost time, another check for the tally sheet he was building against Dumbledore.

“He did.” Hecate replied gravely. “In cold blood, with no remorse. And that act alone doomed Albus Dumbledore to the torments of Tartarus, where Thanatos and Keres will supervise his residence. Interestingly enough, Albus Dumbledore exchanged the future of his line to have the power to defeat Gellert Grindlewald, not to have more power than him. These rituals are dangerous, magic itself recoils from them and does it’s best to thwart them wherever it may. So Gellert Grindlewald became the most powerful wizard in the world, but there were many witches more powerful. One of them was Dorea Black, who married Charlus Potter and gave birth to James Potter.”

Chapter two

“So my human grandmother was more powerful than Dumbledore?” Harry asked incredulously. “Everyone goes on and on about Dumbledore, how did no one know this?”

“Furthermore,” Hecate continued, and Harry was almost certain her eyes were twinkling, “A ‘wizard’, by the letter of the law as far as magic is concerned, is defined as a male human that contains a magical nucleus able to sustain a self generating core. Any other power added to that is not included in the moniker ‘wizard’. Therefore there are other wizards that became Head of House, such as Charlus Potter to consider. Charlus Potter, who was a decently powerful wizard in his own right, also inherited the family magic of the House of Potter, which is the latest name given to an ancient and noble line whose magic has been passed down unbroken since the earliest days of magical humans. A line that has been periodically reinforced throughout the ages with new blood, sometimes foreign, sometimes what the wizarding world has labeled muggleborn, and on two notable occasions with women who had no magical nucleus at all. What has become known as the Potter bloodline has always been diverse, and consistently produced intelligent and powerful magic users.”

“Wait,” Harry interrupted. “Sorry my lady, but what did you mean by unbroken? You can’t mean passed from father to eldest son all those years, because I was told that Ignotus Peverell was my ancestor, and he had two older brothers.”

“Unbroken means that the family magic has been passed down the main line and it has not been damaged by the repudiation of any of it’s members. The main line at any one time consists of the Head of House, all their children and grandchildren unless repudiated, and after that their siblings. As to the Peverell brothers, their father named Ignotus Peverell heir to the family magic, as was his right.” Hecate explained. “The family magic accepted him, and so the line remained unbroken. On occasion the Head of House has named a daughter as successor to the family magic in preference to her brothers, sometimes there have been no sons, and there have been times when the Head of House has disregarded their children and named a grandchild as successor.

“Such a thing recently happened in the House of Black, when the Head of House Arcturus Black named Sirius Black as heir to the Headship of the House of Black and of the family magic, although he kept his decision a secret from the rest of the family, no doubt to ensure Sirius Blacks safety. For had it been known, Sirius Black would undoubtedly have been hunted by those friends of his family members that would have stood to benefit from his death, and in the prevailing environment it was unlikely they would have been brought to justice.”

“What’s the story with repudiation then?” Harry asked interestedly. This was more information than had ever available to him before, and he found it fascinating. “Sirius always said that he had been disowned for being a disgrace, I take it that’s something different?”

“The repudiation of a family member involves ritually casting them from the family, and cutting them off from the family magic. It is generally only done when the person has so egregiously damaged the well being of a family that their presence within it continues to cause damage. Like an incurably diseased limb that requires amputation before it can infect and kill the entire body. And much like the amputation of a limb, repudiating someone from the family magic damages the whole. Therefore, it is not done lightly.

“Disowning is a purely legal matter, and does not involve magic at all. When Orion Black and Walburga Black disowned Sirius Black from their line, they were unaware that he was already the named heir. All they achieved by their actions was to ensure that Sirius Black was not legally required to see to their support when he was elevated to Head of the Family. As it happens, they were both dead when that occurred so in effect their actions were meaningless except for the emotional damage it caused to their eldest son, and the safety it gave him in isolation.”

Harry’s heart was wrung anew at this evidence that despite the hippogriff dung that was his own life, Sirius had endured more, and at the hand of those that he should have been able to count on. Harry couldn’t help but be fervently grateful that Sirius had found friendship with his father, and once again had to forcibly divert his mind from wandering down the path of what might have been. He gave his attention back to Hecate.

“So you were saying that the Potter Family magic is old and unbroken, and that when it was added to his already rather powerful wizards magic Charlus was very powerful. If all of these…” Harry groped for the correct term, “Magic users? Magicals?”

Hecate smilingly inclined her head in approval.

“If all of these magicals were more powerful than Grindlewald, then why did it fall to Dumbledore to stop him?” Harry didn’t like the thought that his grandfather had just sat back and let Grindlewald rampage around the world. Wasn’t it the responsibility of strong magicals to do something about this sort of thing?

“The failure wasn’t with individual wizards such as Charlus Potter, Harry.” Hecate admonished him. “The failure was with the bigotry and laziness inherent in the wizarding governments worldwide. Grindlewald’s depredations occurred throughout continental Europe, and the wizarding governments involved were as effective in stopping him as Britain was against Voldemort. What was required was strong leadership and a willingness to meet violence with violence. What happened, was that the leadership vacillated over whether potentially lethal violence should be authorized until they were so overrun that the issue was no longer in contention.” Hecate stopped speaking and looked at Harry, who was clearly not even slightly convinced.

“Tell me Harry.” She tried. “If you had no magic and were an ordinary citizen, perhaps even a CEO of a large company and wealthy, and you heard that there was a serial killer loose and killing people, would it then be your responsibility to hunt down this criminal and see to his demise or incarceration?”

“No,” Harry replied. “The police would take care… right. Okay, I see what you mean.” He sat silently and contemplated that for a while. He had never thought of things in that light before. In the muggle world he would expect the police to deal with it.

He had a horrified thought. Does that mean that Umbridge was right? Wait, no. She was advocating defenselessness. The idea that when confronted with someone out to do you harm you should wait for the authorities to arrive, and take no personal action in defense of your life, or the lives of anyone around you. And to further that ideal, she did her best to handicap them against their opponents. No, what Hecate meant was that if you had a government, it was their responsibility to see to the incarceration of criminals, and the responsibility of each citizen to be law abiding. Which included not going off on vigilante crusades.

“So that means that Dumbledore was acting outside the law when he defeated Grindlewald?” Harry asked, returning to the conversation.

“Strictly speaking, yes.” Hecate answered. “Although he presented his act as a sacrifice he made for the world, rather than an attempt to increase his personal prestige and gain influence. Furthermore, as there were no witnesses to the event, Albus Dumbledore was able to describe his defeat exactly as he wished to.”

“You shock me.” Harry said dryly. “Can you be about to tell me that Dumbledore lied his arse off? If you’ll excuse the vernacular.”

“Most perspicacious of you, Harry!” Hecate replied light-heartedly. “He did indeed. He spoke of a spectacular duel that lasted over an hour, and having memory charmed and befuddled his opponent was not gainsaid. In truth, he had spent some time convincing Gellert Grindlewald that he wished to join him once more, and then emplaced the magic suppression cuffs whilst he was in the throes of passion.”

“But then what was the power that he had done that sacrificial rite for?” Harry wasn’t sure sex counted.

“That is not clear.” Hecate responded. “Perhaps the confidence to achieve his scheme? The persuasiveness that convinced his erstwhile lover of his change of heart? It is certain that, whatever his methods, Albus Dumbledore did defeat Gellert Grindlewald. Therefore the contract was concluded.”

Harry snorted. “Wouldn’t it be funny if he did that ritual and everything and didn’t actually get anything new for it?” He grew more somber. “Well, not for the son he sacrificed I suppose. Still, it would be ironic.”

“So Albus Dumbledore defeated Gellert Grindlewald, and then traded his notoriety and prestige for an Order of Merlin, First Class and the post of Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It was then that he was able to begin grooming certain students towards specific ends on a much larger scale than previously.

“When Albus Dumbledore was first made Transfiguration Professor he had decided that the best way to gain prestige was to wait for Gellert Grindlewald to become a more feared opponent. It was while he was waiting that he decided that in order to remain relevant after overcoming Gellert Grindlewald, he should periodically defeat an evil wizard, and started looking about him for candidates.”

Chapter three

“Enter Tom Riddle, I suppose.” Harry said heavily, reflecting on the carefully chosen memories Dumbledore had shown him in his sixth year. It must have been like stumbling across a goldmine, finding a young man so angry and resentful.

“Albus Dumbledore was extremely successful in his manipulation of Tom Riddle. This was aided by Tom Riddle’s arrogance, something that Albus Dumbledore spent some time fostering. He carefully allowed certain knowledge to become available to him and ensured that Tom Riddle was not apprehended for several misdeeds. Everything happened as he had hoped, and then Tom Riddle went out into the world and began his rise to dominance over the bigoted faction of wizarding Britain that wished to subjugate the rest.

“After the defeat of Gellert Grindlewald and his subsequent appointment as Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Albus Dumbledore began another of his plans, the separation of Slytherin house from the rest of the school. He encouraged the students there to consider themselves above all but the mildest of corrections, and made sure the other houses were punished if there was any retaliation. This has almost become self-perpetuating, in fact you have yourself seen this policy in action.”

“Yeah, and I bet it only grew bigger as time went by. Did he pick Slytherin because of the bigotry already inherent in the house from Salazar’s time?” Harry asked curiously. Hecate shook her head.

“Salazar Slytherin was not bigoted, he was cautious about interacting with those that had no magic. He had a moderate divination ability, and had seen glimpses of the witch trials and therefore counseled separation. It was he who spent half of his family’s great wealth in creating the Magical Register with the assistance of the goblins and the elves.

“It is designed to record each outburst of uncontrolled magic and the location it happens in to aid in the identification of new magical children. The Magical Register thus created encompasses the British Isles, although each magical government now has it’s own. Other countries were skeptical of the ideas usefulness at first, and Salazar Slytherin proved his exemplification of the qualities he sought for his house when he bargained with them. Each country was given the Magical Register for no initial cost, but they are required to pay ten sickles for each magical child from a non-magical family that is registered using the Magical Register, to the Slytherin Trust, a Trust that Salazar Slytherin set up with the Goblins. This agreement is an inbuilt part of each register, and the directive of the Slytherin Trust is to contribute to the financing of the school Salazar Slytherin helped build. The Slytherin Trust is overseen by the goblins and it’s income accounts for a fourth of the resources required each year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.”

“Heh,” Harry snickered. “You mean because they wanted to be cheap at the outset, they’ve been paying for the last thousand years? That’s some longheaded thinking alright. And does that mean that if it weren’t for the Slytherin Trust everyone would all have to pay significantly more? Considering that each year costs two thousand galleons, I’m surprised that so many people could afford it anyway. And with the conversion from muggle money… it’s a wonder any muggleborn attend at all!”

Hecate sighed.

“Harry, the yearly charge for one student to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry at the time of your enrollment was one hundred galleons, the highest it has ever been due to the low number of students after the war. Wealthy students were encouraged to subsidize less prosperous families, like the Malfoys did with the Crabbes and the Goyles. The extra amount from your yearly payment went into an account called the Poor Fund used by those who could not afford to send their children to school without it. Most families use the Poor Fund to supplement what they are able to pay themselves, and it is considered a point of honour for recipients to either pay back the money they used or assist another struggling family with their school fees.

“Arthur Weasley and Molly Weasley however, factored the Poor Fund into their budgeting for each year and each of their children had the entirety of their fees paid by the fund. None of the children were told about this, they believed that their father’s salary paid for their schooling, so when first William Weasley and then Charles Weasley offered to assist their parents financially and were declined, they believed that their parents were too proud to accept handouts and conspired to assist them surreptitiously. Thus, all unknowing, they made no effort to repay the Poor Fund. The Weasley family’s constant drain and the death in the first rise of Tom Riddle of so many recipients before they could make their repayments had brought the Poor Fund perilously close to insolvency.”

Harry doodled on his pad as he thought this through.

“So that means I essentially paid for all the Weasleys, as well as for twelve other students to go completely through Hogwarts.” Harry shrugged. “I don’t really care about the nineteen hundred odd galleons, I would have been happy to help if I’d been asked. It’s just so annoying that nobody bothered to get my permission, or even tell me. Did Molly and Arthur know that it was my contributions that enabled their younger children to go to Hogwarts?”

“Yes, they did.” Hecate confirmed. “It was Molly Weasley’s idea, when Albus Dumbledore informed them that the Poor Fund would not be able to cover tuition costs for all their children. Molly Weasley agreed to be Albus Dumbledore’s agent, and swore her service to him in exchange for his reciprocal oath that he would ensure that the education of her children was paid for and that he would do everything in his power to ensure a marriage between you and Ginevra Weasley.”

“Right, I kind of knew about that bit. The gist of it, anyway.” Harry sat back in his chair and clasped his hands together again. He found it calmed him if his hands were occupied, no doubt a remnant of a childhood where if he wasn’t busy cleaning he could expect to be walloped for laziness.

After the Toronto Magical Healing Centre had uncovered the fact that he was being potioned, (among other things), but before he was purged, Harry had known that he would need to consult with Ginny, Molly, Ron, and Hermione about everything that had been discovered, and let them help him through the aftermath. If the healers had allowed him to he would have contacted them before accepting treatment. After the purge, when he no longer felt the overwhelming desire to confide in them and seek their advice it was no great leap of deduction to figure out why his instincts had changed.

After the Toronto Magical Healing Centre had purged the potions and removed the blocks and other enchantments that had been tied to him, he had gone to Neville and Luna. After swearing them to secrecy, he had enlisted their help in finding out exactly who he could trust. As none of the loyalty potions or charms had been keyed to either of them he had reasoned that they were unlikely to be in on what he came to term The Conspiracy (this was a term suggested by Luna, and Harry affectionately agreed).

Luna had offered to use a very interesting spell available to her through her family magic. She said that it was restricted to her Head of House, and as Luna’s father had passed the family headship to her when she turned twenty she was able to cast it on Harry’s behalf. Harry didn’t know the details, but he trusted her when she said it was accurate.

In basic terms, they had discovered that Dumbledore had bartered Harry to Molly Weasley for her daughter, and that Arthur, Ron, and Ginny, had all known about it since Harry was ten. Percy had found out after taking his NEWTS, but had objected so strongly that Arthur placed a block on his memory using the family magic, which caused Percy to mistrust both his family and Harry, and had led to his estrangement from them.

Dumbledore had taken Hermione aside after the thing with the Philosopher’s Stone and had explained to her that Harry needed to be guided so that he wouldn’t be as reckless, and that Dumbledore was counting on her to be a steadying influence, and to let him know if Harry did or said anything that indicated he was slipping. She had eaten it up with a spoon and asked for more. From that time onwards Hermione had been reporting to Dumbledore, and he had nurtured both her dependence on him, and her feelings of superiority over Harry and Ron. She had decided on her own to dose Harry with loyalty potions keyed to her after their sixth year, when Harry had refused to see her point with regards to the Half-Blood Prince’s potion book. Harry hadn’t known what to think when he found out that she was being potioned by Molly and Ron at the same time.

Ron had misinterpreted her interest in Harry, and in his jealousy had decided he wanted her so that Harry couldn’t have her. Harry didn’t know whether to be horrified that she had married Ron while under the influence of a potion, or indifferent, as she clearly had no scruples about potioning others for her own benefit. In the end, he decided that it was nothing to do with him, but decided to learn the detection spells so that he could check himself as part of his routine each night before bed.

As for Ginny, when Harry had shown no signs of interest in her by the end of his fifth year Dumbledore had begun a potion regime (in consultation with Molly) to gradually make Harry enthralled with her. On his mother’s instructions Ron had maintained the potions while they were searching for horcruxes in what should have been their seventh year. The potion regime had then been resumed by Molly and Ginny after Voldemort’s defeat. The plan had been that as soon as Harry had sired an heir, Molly would set the blocks on his magic to release upon the next powerful surge of magic. As Harry was working as an Auror, this would no doubt be out in the field, and then Ginny would have control over both the Potter and Black wealth.

Harry broke out of his thoughts as he had something of a revelation. He looked up at Hecate, who was sipping from a steaming goblet as she waited for him finish his thoughts.

“The fact that I am in truth an elf saved my life, didn’t it?” Harry asked in wonder. “I couldn’t have children with a human, so Ginny wasn’t able to get her mother to readjust the blocks on my magic. If I had died without an heir, the Potter family magic and the influence that it could wield would have died with me, and Molly wanted that even more than the money. It’s why they kept going on at me to get my fertility checked. And I was most likely perfectly fertile, just not with a human.” Harry broke into slightly hysterical laughter.

Harry laughed until he felt tears trickling down his cheeks, and then made an effort to calm himself. Clearly the potion Hecate had given him worked on all emotions, and he settled quickly. He shook his head in amusement, and still smiling returned his attention to the Greek goddess awaiting him.

“May I say, my lady, that I love that potion you gave me to help me control my temper. Any chance you would let me know the ingredients and brewing instructions?” Hecate smirked at him.

“I am perfectly willing to give you that information, however I do not think you will find it of much use. The main ingredients are not found in either the human or the elven realms.” She raised an eyebrow at him.

Harry laughed. “Fair enough, I suppose. Speaking of the blocks on my magic, do you know what the story was with those? The Toronto Magical Healing Centre found three, and I’m sure that I felt another one dissolve just after I passed through the veil.”

“The release you felt related to your elven nature.” Hecate responded, smiling at him. “That was the ending of the enchantment placed upon your mother, which she then shared with you. You now sit before me as a True Elf, for the first time in any of the many realities.”

Chapter four

“Right, because of all of those ‘circumstances’ you mentioned earlier, right?” Harry answered cautiously.

“Indeed. Each of those factors is important, however the one that had truly staggering implications was that you reunited all three artifacts of the dead, what your world calls the Deathly Hallows, and became master of them. You are the first in any history to achieve this, and while you exist on an earthly plane, no other can do so. Outside of your possession those items are now only a rune stone to call spirits, an exceptionally fine invisibility cloak, and a wand made of elder wood.”

“You mean that in all the different alternate universes, in the multiverse, no one else has ever brought together the Deathly Hallows? Not even the other Harrys?” Harry was staggered. That had to be statistically unlikely.

“To be precise Harry, I said that no one had reunited them and become master of them. And by that, I meant that not only did they have to be in the same location, but that the wielder must truly be master of them. Have true understanding of each item and yet not desire their power. He must hold the stone with no intentions of bringing the dead back to life. He must hold the cloak, with no intention of hiding from death. And he must hold the wand with no intention of using the power it holds to gain dominion.”

“Okay.” Harry pondered that. “I get the ring and the cloak, but while I was holding them I wasn’t holding the wand. And then I dropped the stone, before I got the wand. When did I have all three?”

“Although you did not physically have the wand in your possession, you held ownership of the wand in all ways that the wand recognized. You had defeated the wands previous commander, and had bested the wizard currently holding it in all your encounters. It was only able cast the death spell at you because you allowed it to. And while you had dropped it, you were still the stone’s master. The only true master the stone has acknowledged in all the years it has been in the hands of magic users, in all dimensions.” Hecate’s lips twitched at the goldfish expression on Harry’s face. “You did well Harry. That you could have made such choices with the handicaps you have spent your life under speaks well of you. And because you made such choices in the past, and become what you are today, you now have another choice before you.”

“Is this where you tell me that there’s a prophecy?” Harry asked resignedly. “To be honest, I’ve been expecting it ever since we sat down.”

“No Harry.” Hecate’s expression softened. “No prophecy. The choice you make here is yours to make, an opportunity offered by a confluence of chance conditions. You can continue onwards to the afterlife, your reward for your difficult life. Or you can travel to one of the alternate universes, and live your life anew.”

“Well, that choice seems like a bit of a no brainer.” Harry commented. “Why on earth, or I suppose not-earth as the case may be, would I want to go back and live through the whole mess again? What would be the point?”

Hecate smiled sadly at him.

“Do you truly wish me to answer that Harry? I warn you that my answer may greatly influence you and you are unlikely to be happy about it.”

“Are you doing this on purpose?” Harry asked incredulously. “It’s like waving a red flag in front of a bull! Of course I want to know. I always want to know.”

“Yes, I suppose so.” Hecate considered him, her head tilted slightly to one side. “Very well. In all of the universes, the multi-verse as you put it, you are the first and perhaps only Harry who has the power to change the lives of all the others. You saw the elven Wise Ones as they searched the realms for your essence, yes?”

Harry recalled the sight of so many elves bending their minds to the problem of a hurt and lost child, and nodded.

“What you did not see was the ritual they perform at each equinox, and the ramifications of this upon the lives of all Harrys. The Wise Ones join their minds throughout the multiverse on the day of balance, to share knowledge and help one another. Twice a year as they came together, they hoped that somewhere the child that was being searched for would be found. If any Harry Potter in any universe is found by the elves, within six months all Harry Potters will be found. If you pass through the crossroads to the Human realm and make contact with the elves, you will change the life of every other Harry Potter in every other universe.” Hecate gazed steadily at Harry, watching as annoyance chased surprise across his face.

“I’m thirty one, Hecate. I don’t need saving anymore, and it’s unlikely that any Harry Potter that made it to my age needs saving either. Unless…” Maybe other Harrys had never gone to the Toronto Magical Healing Centre. Hecate spoke again before Harry could put his thoughts into words.

“You would not be going back to the world you left, Harry of England. That door has already been closed. The opportunity I am offering is to send you to a world almost exactly like your own, but when you are young enough to make a substantial difference, not only to the other Harrys in the multiverse, but to the universe you enter.”

“But what will happen to the Harry in that universe? I can’t just come in and take over his body, steal his life!” Harry said aghast. Hecate shook her head.

“Do you remember when you brought home your first report card from school?” She asked him.

“Yes…” Harry answered warily. “I got better grades than Dudley, so Vernon locked me in the cupboard for a week.” Hecate sighed.

“That was not all he did, was it Harry?” Harry looked down at his hands, avoiding her eyes. “Before that, he gave you what he liked to call a good thrashing. You lay in that cupboard for days, hovering on the cusp of life and death. In the end a combination of your magic and your indomitable spirit saved you.

“In the universe I would send you to, Harry discovered the library on his first day of school. His time spent there improved his grades and increased his standing with his teachers, regardless of the rumors Vernon and Petunia Dursley had circulated. They commented favourably on his report card and when Vernon Dursley saw those comments he became even angrier. The Harry Potter in that universe died in the cupboard from his injuries. You would be inserted the moment after he dies, and thereafter his body would be your own, with one notable difference. Having died, the fragment of Tom Riddles soul lodged in Harry’s body would also die. You would inhabit a body without that foul leech staining it.”

Harry turned away from her to stare out across the vastness of the plain that they were currently existing upon. If he went back and found the elves, all of those other Harry Potters would get their dearest wish. The Arthalians would know where to find them, and they would be rescued from the Dursleys. Sure, that didn’t mean that everything would end up roses, but it was everything he’d wished for in the darkness and loneliness of his cupboard. How could he take that away from so many? What was one lifetime compared to so many?

And he would meet Arthalian, his elven father and learn about being an elf. And Sirius! He could get Sirius out of Azkaban much earlier, they could get to properly know each other. And he could make sure Neville had a better home life, and that Luna wasn’t bullied. He knew things now. He could change things. And even if he failed, wasn’t it worth the chance? When all those other Harry Potters would have a better life too? So what if he would end up alone again in a world that he didn’t truly fit. He’d been alone for the majority of his life.

Harry turned back to Hecate.

“Doesn’t seem like much of a choice really.” He said wryly. “How could I take away the opportunity of a better life for so many of me? How could I stand to live with myself knowing I chose the easy way, rather than the right way? That was one thing Dumbledore got right. It’s just a pity he didn’t live by it.”

“No Harry. By going on to the afterlife, you don’t take anything from anyone.” Hecate came and sat on the arm of his chair, reaching out to touch his face gently. “Only you and I know of this, and if you wish I can take the knowledge that you even had this choice from you. The choice is truly yours, and I will not think any less of you if you do not take this opportunity. It was a million to one chance that we would ever sit here together, you and I. Choose as you wish Harry, and I will make it happen for you.”

Harry shifted so that he leaned slightly against her.

“I’ll go to the alternate universe.” He said quietly. “Thank you for the offer to let me continue in blissful ignorance, but the karmic debt would be… no. I’ll do it. I just wish I didn’t have to be alone.” Her arm came around him as he drew in a deep shuddery breath and then exhaled and calmed himself. They sat there in silence for a minute, while Hecate pondered something.

“Harry…” She began hesitantly. “I cannot send anyone with you, but there is one thing I can do. The Sirius Black from your universe entered the Death Veil, which places his soul in my jurisdiction. I can allow the Sirius Black in the new world to share experiences with him through his dreams. For the Sirius Black in the new world it would be like viewing a memory. He will still not be the same Sirius you lost, but you will not be quite alone.” By the time she had finished speaking, Harry was nodding emphatically.

“Is it possible to see him before I go? I mean, let him know what’s going on so that when the other Sirius gets his memories he’ll be better prepared?” Harry was trying not to hope too much, but his magic was starting to vibrate around him again. He took a moment to calm himself once more, and then saw Hecate rise and take three steps away from where they were seated. She brought both hands together and then parted them smoothly. A stone archway appeared, and Sirius was standing in the centre of it, blinking in astonishment.

“Sirius!” Harry was out of that chair faster than a whippet with a bum full of dynamite. He barreled into Sirius, catching him into a strong hug. He felt arms come around him, and stood there reveling in the embrace. They stayed that way until Harry heard a prim voice.

“Hem, hem.”

Harry jerked away, looking around wildly, only to see Hecate standing there smirking at him. He threw back his head and laughed, turning back to his godfather who still looked a little gobsmacked.

“Harry?” Sirius asked tentatively, just before Harry opened his mouth and the floodgates burst.

“Sirius! I’m so sorry Sirius, I didn’t mean to kill you, please, I didn’t mean it, sorry, sorry, sorry!” Sirius reached out, grabbed Harry by the shoulders and shook him gently.

“Harry! You’re all grown up! And don’t be ridiculous, I managed to kill myself without any of your help, thank you very much!” Sirius managed to make himself sound indignant at the end there, and Harry found himself tilting towards laughter again. Taking a deep breath, he released it, and smiled.

“Sirius, have you met Hecate?” Sirius bowed and offered her a rakish grin.

“I have indeed, and you’re looking well, my lady.” She smiled at him and gestured for him to sit. Harry saw that where there had been two comfy chairs, there were now three.

“So what are you doing here pronglet? Don’t tell me you fell through the veil as well?” Sirius was talking even before they were all seated. Something occurred to Harry as a way to speed things up.

“Lady Hecate, would it be possible to show Sirius like you showed me? Get him on the same page, so to speak?” Harry asked hopefully. Hecate’s mouth twisted in amusement.

“You really are making sure he has as much knowledge as possible, Harry of England. Very well. Sirius Black, please take my hand and witness Harry’s life.” Before Harry could explain that he didn’t mean his whole life, just what had happened after walking through the veil, Sirius took her outstretched hand. Harry shrugged helplessly, and then focused on what memory sharing looked like from the outside. Watching Sirius, Harry saw interestedly that his eyes glazed over, and his face took on a wooden expression. Hecate’s face did likewise.

Unsure about how long this show and tell would take, Harry was just contemplating several steps he would need to take once he arrived in his new universe when Sirius exploded from his chair and started pacing.

“That… that… we trusted him! Everyone trusted him! And he…” Sirius looked wildly about him and then said “Please excuse me for a minute.” Before Harry or Hecate could say anything, Sirius had changed into Padfoot and gone haring across the plain, barking and growling furiously. Harry looked at Hecate and raised his hands in perplexity.

“I suppose he needs to release some aggression. Perhaps he would have benefited from that calming draught you gave me?” Harry tried to excuse his erratic godfather. Hecate smiled happily back at him.

“I shall offer it to him on his return. Do you know Harry, I believe it is likely that our actions today will cause a revolt in the afterlife.” Hecate didn’t appear to be at all disturbed by this prediction, she even seemed slightly smug.

“Sorry, what? Why?” Harry asked, somewhat confused at her sudden cheerfulness.

“Contrary to many belief systems, those in the afterlife are not able to check in on the living. The Planes are separate, and only a being of crossroads can traverse the paths between them at will. You are such a being, as am I. You are constrained in the actions you may take by knowledge, or lack of it. I am only constrained by certain agreements made with other beings of power. One of my constraints is that I am unable to pass along knowledge of what occurs on other Planes, unless certain circumstances are met.” Hecate smiled anticipatorily, and waited for Harry to catch up.

“And some of those are likely to be the same ‘circumstances’ that allowed you to offer me this choice…” Harry felt understanding dawn. Hecate leant forward in a slightly conspiratorial manner.

“You specifically asked for the presence of Sirius Black, out of everyone you could have asked for. Sirius Black has been here before, therefore I could grant your request. You then asked me to share your knowledge with him. I have only done that which you asked, and which is also within my power, and the result will be Sirius Black returning to the Plane where he resides with your parents and others of like mind, and he will share this knowledge with them.” Hecate sat back again, simply radiating self-satisfaction.

“And this is why you interpreted my request to share knowledge in such a liberal manner, and then began before I could explain that it wasn’t what I meant.” Harry grinned at the smirking goddess. “Sirius will have a lot more to tell them now. And now everyone will know about what Dumbledore has done. I don’t suppose he’s in the same place? You said something about Tartarus?”

“No, they are not in the same place, hence the revolt I am anticipating. I will be astonished if a large number of souls do not stridently demand access in order to visit their own punishment upon Albus Dumbledore. I foresee a great deal of activity in the near future.” She looked so pleased that Harry couldn’t find it in himself to be annoyed that she had used him to further her schemes.

Really, when it came down to it he was happy with the result, so he wasn’t going to quibble over the method when he was the only one taken advantage of. And maybe Sirius, he’d have to check whether he minded, but Harry suspected not. No doubt Sirius would prefer to know, just like Harry. He grimaced slightly. Hopefully the Sirius in the new universe would be able to control himself, he didn’t need him going off half cocked and ruining what Harry was determined would be a deliberate and thorough pasting.

As they awaited the return of Sirius, (who could still be heard off in the distance) Harry let his mind turn over some of the things Hecate had said. Coming to a conclusion, he smiled as charmingly as he could at Hecate.

“Lady Hecate, will you please inform me of anything you believe may be pertinent to what I hope to achieve in the new universe?” He sat in his chair, trying to look as innocent yet charming as possible. Hecate laughed delightedly.

“I will answer as far as I am able to, but first you must tell me what it is you hope to achieve?” Her eyes were twinkling merrily, and the corner of her mouth remained turned up.

“Well,” Harry replied thoughtfully, “I suppose I want to overturn Dumbledore, and stop his plans. Expose him to the world. I need to find the elves as soon as possible, and get Sirius released from prison. I’d like to make a significant change to the wizarding world, ensure that the government is as uncorrupt as possible. Make things more equal for all magic users, like goblins and house elves and centaurs, and stop or at least reduce the prejudice…” Harry was interrupted by the return of Padfoot, panting and moving a great deal slower than when he had set out.

“Sirius! Come sit down, Lady Hecate has something for you to drink, it’ll help you keep calm.” Harry motioned towards the empty seat, and Sirius regained his human form and sat, accepting the goblet Hecate offered him. “It’s safe, Sirius.” Harry assured him when he glanced at the potion.

“Thank you Harry, my memory isn’t that bad you know. Lady Hecate showed me you drinking it not very long ago. Cheers.” Sirius waved the goblet in their general direction, and then drained it, setting it on the table where it promptly vanished.

“So. That bloke Lily picked out was an elf? And he can fly? Harry, can you fly? Do you have wings?” Sirius asked, having clearly decided on his priorities. That reminded Harry that he wanted to know as well. He shrugged in response to Sirius, and both turned to gaze expectantly at Hecate, who laughed.

“It is not certain, as Harry here is the first to uncover his elven nature. Arthalian will be able to tell you Harry. Elves generally tend to favour the gifts of one parent over the other. So your aunt Kethadriel of Harailin is clearly Lythari like your grandfather Lethavyl of Harailin, and your mother was likely a Sun elf, as was her mother Hamadriel of Ornthr. Upon reaching adulthood, an elf will declare their race, and forevermore be counted amongst them.” Hecate explained.

“So I could be a Sun Elf, or a winged elf? What are they called?” Harry knew this was not terribly important in the grand scheme of things, but he was intensly curious.

“Avariel is the name winged elves are generally called by, and it is also slightly possible that you are Lythari, as Alvalia was never confirmed. But you can discuss this with Arthalian when you meet with him. As far as your other request goes…”

“Wait!” Sirius interrupted. “Does this mean I’ll never know if Harry can fly?”

“If I ask you to are you able to keep Sirius updated on what’s going on in my new life?” Harry queried Hecate hopefully. “What will happen when I die? Will I go to the same afterlife as this Sirius, or the other one?”

Hecate inclined her head towards Harry.

“As you have requested it of me, I can indeed keep Sirius Black updated on your life, and I will be glad to. When you pass on, you will be able to learn how to use the crossroads, and then may go wherever you please. You are a Nexus, Harry, the Final Nexus. All places are open to you, if you but know how to get there.”

Harry felt immense relief. He wasn’t going to be abandoning his loved ones who had already died. Sirius looked as though a weight had been removed from him as well. They grinned at each other for a long minute, Harry basking in the presence of the only true father figure he could remember.

“Right.” Harry said finally, looking towards Hecate. “What else can you tell me that can help me?”