She heard the sound of her calm breath entering and leaving her lungs, the hiss of the wind penetrating through the crack in the door and windows. She could hear Kreacher somewhere in the kitchen banging pots and pans and rubbing silverware, the crackling of wood, and of the red embers in the fireplace.

Her concentration remained steady despite these sounds that would mean nothing to others. The dead around her, paralyzed in their places, remained silent.

She felt that warm sensation inside her, her beautiful companion of years tingled, sliding through her veins, flooding her with a sense of peace. Magic slid, swirled, danced in her flesh and soul.

She thought to herself and at the same time to the others, to another entity: "Harlan and Hamish Peverell. Let me see them, touch them, feel them. Let me talk to them and listen to their words. Harlan and Hamish, the Peverell Twins."

And she felt that strange sensation again, a touch that was both hot and cold, a solution and at the same time a problem. She knew she was heard and knew she was answered.

The moment she opened her eyes, they were both looking at her calmly. In front of the fireplace, in front of the tongues of fire that she was able to admire through their translucent bodies, dressed in carmine and black, two brothers holding hands opened their mouths and said: "You summoned us and we came."

When she thought of the Peverell Twins, she imagined them old and tired, with white hair and wrinkled skin... but those in front of her were two little boys with shoulder-length black hair, brown eyes, and youth in their soul. They were thirteen again, the age when they were separated.

Amalthea knew it was something they decided. Just as Sirius and Remus chose to look slightly younger and healthier, the brothers chose their stolen youth. They would now live in the world of the dead what they were unable to live together in the world of the living.

"What do you want from us, Mistress of Death?" Their innocent voices sounded together.

Calmly the Potter heiress replied, "My name is Amalthea, I am the last of your family line."

The twins smiled: "We know, Amalthea Potter. We don't have much to do since we died other than watching our bloodline."

I suppose you don't..." Thea thought. Each spirit was a different case from what she realized. Some were free, fed up with mortal life and desirous of comfort, they went on to another plane unreachable by the living, where they would be happy. Others, like her parents, Sirius, Remus, Tonks, and her beloved Fred, chose to stay on the earth plane as long as necessary, watching their loved ones and the unfolding of their lives. And there were still some who had unresolved issues, things that bound them to the land and didn't allow them to move on, and they would only achieve peace when they finally solve that problem.

"How can we be useful?" They asked.

Amalthea exchanged a look with her father, who nodded confidently.

"I just heard a story..." The young woman with black hair began to say calmly, her green eyes shining like stars and her face a mask of seriousness. "Your story, in fact."

"And what do you want to know, Heiress Potter?"

"It is true?" She asked leaning slightly on the couch, her light blue satin dress gliding smoothly like water as she moved. "Is this other world real?"

The Peverell brothers smirked, laughing. The twin's smile on the right went from ear to ear, and he replied: "Yes, Amalthea Dorea Potter, it is very real. Everything you heard in the story is the truth."

"How?" The woman wanted to know, frowning when she remembered never mentioning her second name, but knowing that the dead had their ways of knowing certain things. "And is it safe? How do I get there? Please tell me everything, I need to know."

They approached her slowly with their small, thin translucent bodies, still holding hands. The one on the left looked at her curiously while the one on the right opened his lips and spoke again: "How did you become the Mistress of Death?"

Amalthea raised a dark, questioning eyebrow. "I became the Mistress of Death by gathering all three of the Deathly Hallows."

"So you have Thanatos' blessing and everything that comes with it." Explained the twin on the left.

"Just as I received Hecate's blessing." The one on the right continued.

Amalthea heard a breathless sound from the other ghosts, while her eyes widened in surprise. She knew those names, she knew what it was all about... Every family in the wizarding world had a patron god or goddess. Sirius told her once that the Black family prayed to Eris, the Goddess of Discord; the Malfoys to Aphrodite, the Goddess of Love and Beauty. The Weasley's to the Goddess Hestia, who protected families and the home, although Fred and George also chose Loki, the God of Mischief; and the Potter family was devoted to Thanatos, the God of Death. However, everyone would always say another name in their prayers... the name of Hecate, the Goddess of Magic.

"What are you trying to say?" She asked, her voice sounding slightly stunned.

For the first time since they were summoned the brothers released their hands, which until then had always been linked, and the twin on the right came forward. His steps were silent, his breathing was nonexistent. When he was inches away from Amalthea, he extended his right hand, turned it over, and showed her his palm. There, in the center of the skin, something that resembled a six-petaled flower or a six-pointed star was drawn, surrounded by a small ring; around it, a continuous black line slid like a snake in a labyrinth of ink, closed again in a circle.

Instinctively, Amalthea raised her own right hand, pale and elegant, and traced the mark engraved in black on her left wrist: A line, inside a circle, inside a triangle...

"On your flesh, you have the mark of Thanatos. You've collected the Deathly Hallows, yes... But that was not enough to become the Mistress of Death: your soul had to be read, it had to be tested, and that mark on your skin is proof that you passed the test. You are the Mistress of Death because Thanatos choose you, not just because you have the three Deathly Hallows in your possession. The mark is proof of his acceptance and blessing."

A shiver ran through Amalthea's body, running through her skin and ruffling the hair on the back of her neck and arms.

Out of the corner of her eye, she vowed to see a shadow, and when she decided to find out, her suspicions were confirmed. He stood by the door, with large dark wings, dressed in black robes and a huge sickle with a sharp blade in his pale hand. She couldn't see his face, hidden in the darkness of the hood, but she knew he was looking at her. Suddenly, she felt an icy touch in her magic and another entity in her head, which strangely brought her a feeling of comfort in those storms of feelings. She closed her eyes appreciatively, admired by the sensation that the presence brought her, and when she opened them again, the figure was no longer there.

One of the Peverell twins continued to speak as if he had never stopped, and Amalthea knew that her interaction with the black-winged being didn't take more than a measly second "I, however, carry with me the blessing of Hecate. The question is how... Well, for that we have to go back to that stormy night again as you heard in the story... it rained so much that night and the stormed raged, thunder roared and lightning flashed overhead as if there was no end, no one in my village would have peace as long as that damned storm raged that night continued. The cattle got loose outside and as much as the desire for the warmth of the house was strong, we knew it would be a while before we returned. The cattle were our livelihood: wool, cheese, and meat were the way to earn enough money to put food on the table and we needed it more than ever since my mother was pregnant and close to giving birth.

> We had brought all of them together when that damn horse that always gave us trouble ran away again. It was my dad's favorite horse, but I've always hated the animal since I fell off of him when I was younger. I still ran after him anyway, and even today I don't know if it was the stupidest decision I ever made or not. I was in the forest for what seemed like hours. I felt the rain on my skin, weighing my clothes, running through my hair, and blurring my vision. I was chilled to the bone, didn't know which way to go. Then I saw the flames rise through the leaves and trees, covering everything around me in a furious roar. The fire had given me a vision in the dark night just to leave me with a horrible notion: I knew I would die, I was inside a circle of fire surrounded by red hot flames everywhere. I was going to die trying to find a stupid horse that I never liked...

> It was then that I prayed to the Mother Goddess, I'm not sure why. It must have been fear, even though I was paralyzed where I was standing... I had a huge lump in my throat, I felt that I needed to do something, I was always told to pray in my moments of need and the gods would hear my prayers. So I prayed for help, I begged for a few more years of life, and if that wasn't possible, I begged for a death at that was at least painless... I heard a boom even louder than the crack of lightning, and I don't remember much more of those moments that I saw the living flames approaching me.

> When I opened my eyes, I was surrounded by white, ice, and snow made my clothes hard and cold... I didn't know anything around me, so I tried to keep my body warm, I put my hands over my mouth in a vain attempt to warm them up. Then I saw the Wheel of Hecate in my palm... and I knew that the Goddess had saved me, she saw my soul and decided to grant me mercy, she did not let me die with the flesh melting from my body with the heat of fire that would swallow me. I was found shortly afterward, with happy tears streaming down my face murmuring thanks to the Goddess, and I have not stopped thanking Hecate ever since."

The attention was all on the Peverell brother, now known as Harlan, the Missing Twin, who turned silent and returned to Hamish who was watching him with affection and admiration.

The light outside the windows disappeared, the sun giving way to the moon and stars, the dark night closing in on the streets of London. Amalthea felt exhausted as she leaned her back in the comfort of the soft pillows. Her mind worked over and over, repeating mentally every word.

Lily's icy touch had been loving when she stroked her shoulder. Her father, Sirius and Remus exchanged glances and murmured phrases too low for her ears to capture what was being said, and when Amalthea glanced at Fred, who had never left the place beside her, he only had eyes for young woman. There was a soft expression on his freckled face and a question in his eyes.

Harlan Peverell approached the fireplace with a joyful leap in his young walk, despite bringing wisdom in his dark brown eyes. The flame was high after Kreacher put more wood on the fire, and women in red and orange dresses danced in the flames.

His voice was nothing more than a whisper when he spoke again, but it still conveyed a certain power and strength when he was heard by the people in the living room: "I spent years and years wondering. How was it possible? Why me? Why there? Why at that moment? Why, why, why...? Nothing made sense to me... I was in a new world, a world that was not mine, alive and safe... But I wanted to know why and wanted to know how to get back. I tried to get my hands on most of the books in that world, tried to listen to every legend ever made, tried to ask the gods... but in that place, the gods were different and just didn't respond to outsiders. So I made a house for myself in that place, I made friends, lived adventures, but always wondered what happened. Years later, on my deathbed, I heard the voice of the Goddess when I was about to close my eyes. She told me that she took pity on me, felt my fear, and did not want to see one of her children die when I had given her something so good. I didn't understand it at the time, but she made a point of explaining it to me...

> She explained to me how the four elements were active that night: the heavy rain that fell abundantly, the north wind that carried everything in its path, the heat of the flames in the fire that slowly devoured the forest, and the earth that was being fed by the water of life which restored its strength. Magic was in the air, the four elements in harmony. And then, without even knowing it, I gave her something that night: a Blood Sacrifice. My blood and the blood of the stallion that had long been lost in the sea of flames. She told me how nothing could have happened... But then I prayed for her, and the forces of the ritual - even if involuntary - granted my wish and saved my life."

The man in a boy's body then looked at Amalthea, the young woman who was the last of his family line and the hope of his blood. He joined his brother, and their translucent bodies flickered for a moment when they linked hands once more.

"Gather water, earth, fire, and air. Make the sacrifice and your soul will be tested. And it is so, Amalthea Potter, Mistress of Death, that you can have what you want."