Chapter 19
Dreaming and unconsciousness were curious phenomena for Harry. Looking around the void of nothing that he found himself in, he was struck by a single thought. Or, more accurately, the vague beginnings of a thought, related to a concept. That, of course, being that the void he was floating in seemed more akin to the Void than a void.
Of course, he wasn’t able to develop the thought very much, seeing as he was slowly coming to, even as he was realizing the beginnings of the thought.
Groaning in discomfort from the backlash of energies, Harry looked around himself. The tower seemed to be intact, and he definitely wasn’t dead. One thing left to test then. Standing up from where he had fallen on his back, Harry picked up the Elder Wand and tried to cast a spell with it.
Nothing.
Well. It seemed to have been a success then.
“Lord Mora, care to own a depowered Artifact?”
Receiving the odd affirmative hum-groan that he had learned to recognize, Harry ran through the familiar motion of sending something to Apocrypha.
Task finished, and thoroughly battered in the process, Harry walked through the shadows to his bed.
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“So, how did your criminal activities turnout?” Hermione asked now that their guild’s founding members were safely ensconced in a compartment of the Hogwarts Express.
“Well enough. Though, I did wind up absorbing a ton of magical backlash, which I could have gone without.”
“Now that you’ve actually committed the crime, what was it?” Ron asked.
“Uh, what do you two know about the Deathly Hallows?”
“Oh!” Ron exclaimed. “It’s a wizarding fairytale. It was always my favorite, I’d always ask mum to read it to me when I was younger.”
“Loathe though I am to say this, I’ve not heard of the story.”
“Well, it’s about three brothers who win gifts from Death. An unbeatable Wand, a Stone to recall the dead and an everlasting, faultless Invisibility Cloak. And the artifacts are real, though the source isn’t quite what the tale suggests.”
“Well, where did they come from?”
“Tamriel. They were Daedric artifacts, displaced by the use of another artifact. One of them was my Cloak. I returned it to Lady Nocturnal, thus acquiring my gift with shadow magic.”
“I was wondering where that went.” Ron commented.
“Which Princes do the other two belong to?”
“Well, the Stone is an Artifact of Azura, and I’m going after it this summer, both to return it to her, but for other reasons as well. The wand was tied to Mehrunes Dagon.”
“Ah.” Hermione replied.
“Indeed. Thankfully, it no longer functions as a focus, or Artifact. I disrupted the matrices within it last night.”
“How was that a crime?”
“It was the Headmaster’s wand.”
“Hence waiting so long to deal with it?”
“Indeed.”
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Stepping through the barrier between Platform 9 ¾ and Kings Cross, Harry immediately noticed his uncle, looking angry at having to pick Harry up.
“Vernon.” Harry said, immediately drawing his attention.
“I will not take such disrespect, boy!” Vernon exclaimed, his face gaining an unflattering puce tint.
"I'd refrain from the public displays. You're gaining looks."
Looking around himself, Vernon noticed Harry was right, taking in the odd looks he was getting from some of the other people standing about in the station. Calming down in the face of being judged, he turned back to Harry.
“Regardless, I find your preferences rather unimportant.” Harry began. “But that’s beside the point. I’ve decided not to return to Privet Drive with you.”
“What?” Vernon asked, shocked out of his still mounting, yet now contained, rage by Harry’s announcement.
“I won’t be returning to Privet Drive. Do keep up.” Harry replied. “I’ve far too many things to do at the moment, returning to such a dreary house would be a limitation on my goals.”
“W-well, good! We never wanted you in the first place! And don’t think about trying to return next year!”
“Somehow I find that to be an unlikely possibility.” Harry said, walking away.
“I would say it’s been nice knowing you, but it’s been thoroughly unpleasant. Goodbye, Vernon.” Harry said, swirling the shadows around himself.
“Now, onto Little Hangleton.”