Harry Potter and The Shadowed Light

The master of Three

Previously

"Vault number one," the teller intoned when Harry stated his destination. A flicker of thought had Harry pausing; the lower the vault numbers usually meant older vaults, but the sudden jerk of the cart sent his apprehension of visiting the oldest vault in Gringotts flying in the wind.

~

After what seemed like forever, the cart finally came to a stop and Harry slowly exited from it. They were in the deepest part of the bank, far below anywhere Harry had ever been before; above them, Harry could hear other carts moving far in the distance. Shaking himself to try and gather his bearings, Harry approached the doors to the vault. After a moment of consideration, Harry placed his hand on the doors and felt his magic surge before they unlocked with a soft click. Harry had expected an eerie creak, but not a sound came as he pushed open the vault doors.

Entering the nearly empty cavern, Harry noted that the vault was surprisingly clear and well lit. Approaching the table in the middle of the room, Harry's eyes were drawn to the book stand which displayed a very old looking, small book. Next to it, Harry noted something which made his eyes widen in shock: his invisibility cloak was on the table neatly folded, as well as Dumbledore's old wand. Harry had been wondering where the wand had vanished to, but in all the excitement the thought had been easily buried. His cloak too had disappeared, but Harry had assumed it would turn up; apparently, he was right. The next object was another thing that he recognised, having seen it only days before: it was the box for the Slytherin family ring. Opening the box, just to confirm it, Harry noted with little surprise that it was empty, and wondered if, when he died, it would appear here or in the Slytherin vault.

Looking at the three items, Harry realised that, apparently, the story of the three brothers was true. Picking up the wand, Harry felt his magic surge yet again; the feeling was similar to how he had felt when he had first picked up this holly wand at eleven, but it was more natural. Before, if asked, he would have said that his holly wand was the perfect fit for him, but now having felt his magic blend with this wand he realised how untrue that statement would have been. Summoning a spare wand holder, Harry placed the wand in it before turning to his cloak. Shrugging his shoulders, Harry put it on over his robe.

Finally done, Harry turned to the book and picked it up. Opening it, Harry began to read with fascination.

~

Congratulations, dear reader, on doing the impossible,

If you are reading this, then you have done what thousands before you have tried to do but failed. You have collected and mastered the three Deathly Hallows. Items forged by Death himself.

This, I know, means little to you at present, but once you truly comprehend the notion of how much power you now wield, you will understand what an honour and blessing this is to have befallen you.

There are however a few limitations.

But, they are best explained by the maker Himself. To summon Him, all you must do is try. You will find He always hears your call, He just doesn't always answer.

Hello, farewell, and good luck.

~

Closing the book, Harry stood blankly for a moment, confused and thoroughly baffled.

"How the hell do I try to summon Death?" he mumbled, running through countless ideas and dismissing them completely before they fully formed.

"You must merely wish for my presence, Master," spoke a deep voice from in front of Harry.

Looking up sharply, Harry let out a high squeak that he didn't think would be biologically possible under normal circumstances. The being before him, as it was no man or creature, was easily 7ft tall and appeared to be draped in shadows.