Chapter 13

Lord Slytherin swept into his rooms with Severus still following close behind. The Potion master hadn't said anything yet, though he was quietly observing.

"Severus, am I going senile, or was Voldemort... ya know," Harry muttered, gesturing vaguely.

"The embodiment of too many fumes?" The Potion master replied smoothly.

Severus's lips twitched. "Perhaps he's finally embracing performance art."

"Don't joke. I am being serious. His actions were... so... weird." Harry groaned. "It's madness, I say. I'm calling Death."

"Death as in..." Severus asked. He had heard about Death appearing in Harry's previous reality, though he was still skeptical.

"DEATH!" Harry bellowed as he looked up into the emptiness of the room. "Explain this nonsense. Voldemort is acting like a parody of a Woodstock concert gone wrong. What is going on?"

Death appeared looking like someone who'd just been kicked out of a family gathering. His robes hung a little crooked, and he sighed dramatically before flopping into a chair opposite Harry. Meanwhile, Harry just sighed while Severus stared wide-eyed.

"Finally," Death said. "Do you know I've been banned by my sisters? Apparently, I was 'too invested' in your passionate exchange with Severus."

Harry blinked. "You were watching?"

"Of course I was watching," Death said, waving a hand. "I'm a hardcore Snarry shipper. I've got front-row seats to this slow-burn disaster."

"What is Snarry?!" Severus uttered, confused.

Harry groaned. "I just wanted answers about Voldemort, not commentary on my love life."

"No, seriously, what is Snarry?" Severus asked again.

"It's our couple name he gave us," Harry stated.

"Couple name?"

"You know, like Brangelina, RadioApple, SessRin," Death said lazily.

"I have no idea what those mean." Severus frowned.

"Don't get him started, Severus. He likes to bring up things that haven't happened yet just because he exists outside of our time." Harry warned. "To a more pressing matter. Voldemort. I know you did something. Don't even try to deny it. Why is he a hippie?!"

Death shrugged. "Answers are boring. But fine. Here's your explanation: you gave me and my sisters a boon in your original reality. We decided to repay you. Consider this... easy mode. Voldemort is downgraded to comic relief. You're welcome."

Harry groaned. "Easy mode? This isn't a game!"

"I mean, I do prefer this version over him trying to plan genocide," Severus muttered. "He seemed almost... pleasant."

"Exactly," Death said cheerfully. "It's hilarious. And it gives you more time for Severus now that you only have to deal with Dumbledore and your parents. Win-win if I do say so myself."

Death patted his Master's shoulder as he stood up to leave. "Rewards come in many forms. Some are cosmic boons. Some are finding out other uses for Severus's sharp tongue. And some... are fanfiction tropes." Severus and Harry both blushed while Mortem looked straight at some invisible camera and winked for its viewers.

Harry and Severus sat in silence after Death left. "I've dealt with different Voldemort versions, but this... this takes the cake."

"You mentioned something like that before. What other versions?" Severus raised a brow.

"What do you know about Horcruxes?" Harry asked then.

"What?"

"So you haven't found out about them in this reality yet." He continued, nodding, though he had a frown as if contemplating how he should explain this.

"In layman's terms, it is an object a Dark Wizard uses to gain immortality, even if their body is destroyed. The only way to create it is through murder. An act of ultimate evil that splits the soul and causes a fragment to be sealed in an object. The first Horcrux was made by Herpo the Foul, who sacrificed his own basilisk to further his research. Only, Herpo waited too long to start the Horcrux ritual. Waiting more than 24 hours will cause the split soul to start healing. When Herpo used the ritual after waiting too long, it caused him to go insane. Voldemort didn't make that mistake and ended up creating several Horcruxes."

"Riddle made several Horcruxes. What he probably didn't know was that the Horcrux would take on the body and personality at the time of creation. Lucius had one. I made him offer it to me as a show of loyalty. The diary was of his 15 to 16-year-old self. Cocky, angsty, way too serious. I've said it before, but I already destroyed the diary, the locket, and Nagini." Harry explained. "The diary and locket were the easiest. Lucius was desperate for ass-kissing, and Mundungus had sticky fingers. He actually pawned it on the black market after stealing it from Grimmauld place."

"What about Black?"

"What about him? He never cared for Black family heirlooms. Mundungus saw an opportunity there. Also, I had to deal with making sure that this reality's Harry didn't revive as a Horcrux. Though considering that the Potters had him cremated, there is no body, hence no Horcrux."

"He was a ... how?!"

"How do you think? He, not I, was the Chosen one in the prophecy. Not Fleamont, me. Apparently, according to the memories I inherited, I never got any physical scar because Fleamont's accidental magic did kick in to save me. Probably the only time that would happen. Fleamont, however, did get hurt and had a cut on his shoulder. Dumbledore was convinced it was the Mark of the Savior."

"How do you know so much about Horcruxes?" Severus now asked. "Two days ago at dinner, you explained you were new to this."

"To governing, yes. Not to magic." Lord Slytherin responded. "You, well, your counterpart saw to it that I received a thorough education."

I'm not lamenting about the past, other than the thought that I did you wrong. But I wanted you to survive." Harry confessed.

"What do you mean?" Severus asked with some worry laced in his voice.

"Severus," Harry now looked uncertain. He took a deep breath before saying. "As you know, the Muggles wiped out a majority of us in the first waves of nukes. I don't know what came over them as I was still dealing with my sudden freedom. World wars broke out. Propaganda painting us as heretics, the Wizard/Witch hunts. Magical beings were used for sport once they were discovered. I was scared. I found a book on Horcruxes. I didn't want to lose you, so I forced you to create one just an hour before the second wave of nukes dropped.

"You..."

"I COULDN'T LOSE YOU TOO!" Harry shouted. "We'd already lost Aberforth to the hunts! He ensured our safety, but I couldn't get to him in time. His brother didn't even lift a hand to help."

"I... wanted you to survive, even if it was for my own selfish reasons," Lord Slytherin admitted. "I was immortal, you were not. But I love you."

Severus sat there, stunned at the fierce declaration. Then he stood up abruptly. "Perhaps it is better if I adjourn now. I promised Lucius I'd hand him Astoria's potions tomorrow."

"Right, uhm..." Harry mumbled, also unsure of what to say after his outburst. He hadn't meant to come on so strongly.

Meanwhile, the trio of James, Sirius, and Albus had located Slughorn, who had been eagerly prattling on about his research. "You should see her, Albus, an absolute beauty. Why, if I were 70 years younger..."

The night air was chilly as Bassenthwaite Lake came into view. Slughorn's robes swished as he waddled to the water's edge, his breath puffing in little clouds due to the cold night air signaling the oncoming winter.

"Now then," Slughorn uttered, while voicing his excitement. "I've researched the legends surrounding Merlin's staff for years now. There was one name that kept popping up, and I theorized that they might be its guardian. I had no proof until very recently. Now, I've made acquaintances with the Guardian, but well, let us say she is not easily impressed. You will have to tread lightly, lads, if you have come for her treasure."

Albus, quieter than the others, stared at the lake. Something about the stillness of the water unnerved him. "Who exactly is the guardian?"

Slughorn raised a pudgy hand. "Nimue. The Lady of the Lake. Arthurian legend, yes, but legends have a way of being... inconveniently real."

The water rippled, though no wind stirred. She emerged slowly, majestically, as if the lake itself was part of her. The quartet stared at the ethereal woman who stood before them, waist-deep in water. Her hair was long and wavy, spilling down her back, while atop her head, antler-like adornments arched upward, and her skin had this glow about it that seemed otherworldly.

James whispered, "Is she... wearing antlers?"

Sirius elbowed him. "Shut up. She's hot."

Albus said nothing. He couldn't. Even he was captivated. The air around her thrummed with power. It spoke of something older. Something primal. Something that Albus would have loved to covet.

"I am Nimue," she said in a resonant voice. "Speak your piece or leave."