Published at 10th of June 2024 7:56 am

Chapter 266: A Tale of Two Brothers

7 November 1994, Beauxbatons, France

Instead, he removed the diary from his magically expanded bag and opened the first page. The words they held seemed to shock him, 'Hello young Peverell. You seemed to have found my diary just as I arranged for you to. You have a lot to learn and not enough time to do so. So, let's just get started'.

Harry stiffened as he kept reading. How the fuck did Nicholas Flamel know that a Peverell descendant would be able to open the diary. The only reason Harry could be called a Peverell and not a Potter was because of his crest. Harry had accepted that a very long ago that he was a Potter in name only, but not in magic. For example, Tom Riddle would not have been considered to be a Peverell. There wasn't a lot of research on the field, but it was an accepted fact that the differences in souls and upbringings could impact which crest someone would get if they could inherit multiple ones. Similarly, someone might forcefully get their child to inherit a certain crest by grafting a small fragment before their seventh birthday, but it wouldn't be as good as someone inheriting the family crest naturally.

All in all, considering that there hadn't been a proper Peverell for centuries at the very least, there was no reason for Flamel to address him this way without scanning his crest…

Of course, the answer came in the next sentence, 'Well, I know you're probably overthinking about how I knew it would have been you. After all, the content of this book is static, there are no changes. And don't worry, I truly am dead. However, while my prowess as an Alchemist is very well known, very few knew of my wife's talent as a Seer. Even as I write this, I have no idea in which circumstances you will receive this book, only that you will when it is necessary. For some reason, Perenelle asked me to bring this little journal to the Beauxbatons headmistress. I think her name is Olympus or something… Names tend to be blurry when you get my age and I pray that you never do. Anyway, like my wife told me, I should put some kind of permanent enchantment so that this diary would only belong to the winner of Beauxbatons' next European tournament. Which was weird because as far as I know, Hogwarts was hosting the damn thing… Nevertheless, I've learned many times not to question my wife.'

Huh, Harry never expected Perenelle Flamel to be a Seer. It was kind of terrifying to see just how good she was, considering how spot-on her predictions were. The woman had seriously predicted the fact that the tournament would no longer be held in Hogwarts and that Harry would participate in the task to win the diary… He had never heard of a seer that was that precise. Then again, he hadn't heard of a seer living as long as the woman. After all, she had more than six centuries to hone her craft.

Choosing to just go with the flow, Harry continued to read, 'Now that you understand how I sent you the diary, you must be asking why I did so. Well, according to Perenelle, you will need so. You will find in this journal some beginner knowledge in Alchemy, as well as some stabilized Alchemical experiments with very little risk. I don't know why Perenelle asked me to put them since they're a little too stable to be powerful, but apparently, they will be of use to you somehow. Perenelle wrote a few chapters in the end, but she didn't let me read it… But before we start with the technicalities, by the time you're reading this, you have to know that you are at the precipice of one of the grandest events in history… I wish I would have been there to see it, out of curiosity more than anything, but unfortunately, I should have died at my traitorous apprentice's hand sometime soon.'

'Despite the fact that I will always care for the young man I trained and taught, Albus Dumbledore is now the greatest danger to you. He was once my greatest pride and now is my greatest failure. It all began centuries ago when I created my infamous stone. It was never meant to be a tool for immortality, but a Panacea, the only cure I could have conceived for my dying wife. At the time, I tried using the remaining life force of every person dying prematurely, but it wasn't even close enough. That kind of magic required sacrifices, and so I obliged. Having had enough of guessing, I just decided to let fate decide the price. I created a plague that would not stop until the price would have been enough. It took millions of lives for the stone to be created but it was nearly not enough, except that a new-born Light champion was killed by it as well. It was able to supercharge the ritual and become the tool for immortality that it is today. Apparently, the Light had a lot of plans for the champion and did like having it interrupted for a ritual, let alone having a small fragment of its power absorbed into a stone. Decades later, the next Light champion cornered me, and bound me to the light, to track down the Light champions and train them until my dying breath. I saved Perenelle but lost my freedom. I would have destroyed the damn thing, but it still held a fragment of the Light… The consequences would have been chaotic, to say the least, and in a way, I did weaken the connection the Light had with its champions, which happened to be completely bloodbound to me. It was a petty form of retribution considering the Light bound me for an accident.

'However, I later learned that I wasn't the only one cursed to serve the powers. Another Vampire, Vlad Drakul, created a ritual to enhance himself and his species. He also accidentally used a fragment of the Dark and ended up bound to it. And so, Drakul and I hatched a plan and collaborated to get the Champions of the Light and Dark to work together, to end the cycle of war and death that followed their endless battles. The plan was to have them unite the magical world and I would have offered them doses of the Elixir of life to avoid any other champion from being born… As you probably realized, it did not work. Gellert was too taken with his power over people, and Albus grew up with an obsession over control. They fought and our dream died, and now the world is in danger because of it. I wish I was there with you, young Peverell, but Perenelle told me that it would have been a bad idea… The moment is nearing, the first prophecy, the last battle between the Light and Dark is soon. Ragnarök is coming. We had hoped to delay it with our plan of peace, but we failed and now you will have to deal with the consequences.'

'You are hounded by the Light and Dark… But I believe you should, at the very least, understand their nature. It all began with a Kingdom, older than recorded history, yet it might live on in Myth. We do not know its true name, but most people call it Atlantis. It wasn't an island like you imagined, but a true kingdom of magic and might. Its mighty king had two sons who vied for his throne. The younger son craved the throne, and so, he used the forbidden arts to pierce the veil between worlds. He was met with a realm of purity and light, that he claimed as his own, giving him magic beyond his wildest dreams.'

'The older brother seeing this, did not wish to jeopardize his position and did the same, claiming a realm of darkness and shadows. As the King was on his deathbed, the two brothers battled in a fight that destroyed most of the Kingdom. It was so powerful that they had overwhelmed their mortal bodies, becoming one with their realms, and the walls between realms became thin. They kept absorbing realm after realm for their power, that it created a great crisis that we call the Great Cataclysm. The very stars collided, and worlds were ripped open, letting wonders and horrors into the world. Dragons as tall as mountains roamed the skies, and the sea was filled with monstrosities that were as large as islands. Humanity was at risk. Seeing the actions of his own son, the King with his dying breath, helped the Gods of realms threatened by his sons, locked away both dimensions. He gave his own life, and burned away his great soul to power the ritual. In honour of his sacrifice, the Gods made sure that humanity would survive.'

'Unfortunately, the seals were not permanent. Slowly but surely, the Light and Dark could communicate with the material world. They were weak at first, but they progressively were able to mould certain wizards to suit their purpose, blessing them with the power to become leaders and start changing the magical world, which we ended up calling the Champions of Light and Dark. In a show of unity, both the Light and Dark achieved a ritual to strengthen the walls between dimensions, forcing the Gods to either stay in the material world, far away from their power or return home. Most did return home, and the very few who remained were hunted down since they were no longer connected to their realms. The Light and Dark obviously put on certain safeguards to keep getting champions, but I will admit to not truly knowing what they are…

'Of course, the gods did not leave quietly. The last god to ascend, the mighty Odin, proclaimed the first prophecy… The prophecy of Ragnarök.'

And so, Harry read the single most terrifying piece of text he had ever seen in his life:

When the serpent falls and silence reigns,

A war of shadows and light shall start again.

The sky to fire, the world to end,

A legacy reborn as the gods descend.

Death and Fate, now intertwined,

A tapestry of existence, redefined.

Only ash will remain, the final scene,

A silent world, eerily serene.

He shivered with every word, feeling the very power that just saying them in his mind. He had no doubt that every single word he said was true.

However, it felt… incomplete… Merely reading the world in his head started a veritable symphony to his Arcane Hearing. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced, but it was also missing something… A verse, maybe even more. He wanted to find out… No, he needed to find out. He could feel even his magical crest soothingly warming up in approval.

He decided to read further to see where things were going, or what Flamel actually wanted from him, 'Well, that's it for my little message. Again, if you're frustrated just blame Perenelle. Great and now she's sending hexes at me. I probably shouldn't have written that. Oh, wait, she says that you'll get your answers when you see the last legacy of Camlann. Huh, I didn't expect her to push you to go there, but whatever… It's not my problem, I'll be too dead to care. I hope my notes will help you, young man. Farewell, Peverell, and I wish you good fortune in the battles to come.'

And that was it… Nicholas Flamel's last message. And it was a story and a fucking vague recommendation. Fucking seers, not giving any straight answers… Harry ignored the hypocritical comment considering that he was also a seer.

Nevertheless, while this answered a lot of questions, he somehow ended up with even more of them. Flamel's journal was obviously not going to have the key to answer them… At least now, he had a solid lead. He needed to find the last legacy of Camlann, and also figure out whatever missing verse in the prophecy of Ragnarök.

That's not to mention the fact that he would still have to confront his mother.

It wasn't a surprise when he didn't get enough sleep that night…

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