The stone within the ring flashed as it was turned thrice, a dread name chanted, and before Harry Potter stood a transparent figure in an indistinct uniform.
"Out of one hell and into another one." The spectre gasped.
Harry gazed at the ghast, cooly, waiting.
"Who are you and what do you want of me?" The spirit asked, even in death, his voice was still powerful, still authoritative.
Harry laughed, a cold pittilless dead laugh.
"I ask the questions, you answer."
The spectre seem to mutely struggle, then nodded bitterly, the truth of it undeniable, the summons forced compliance and submission.
"How does one converse with The Morningstar?"
The spirit laughed, a cold, condescending, chortle.
"You are mad, the Dark Prince, will never converse with a human, he loathed our very creation, he fought the very creator over gifting us with free will. No man has ever summoned more than a lesser fallen, and I am paying that price now. It is impossible."
"Nothing is impossible, don't you know? If you don't know how, tell me who might and ill let you return to your wretched afterlife."
The spirit shivered then replied "Seek out the Grigori, the once angels on high, sent to be watchers of man, they went, how do you say, native and God severed they're wings and connection to his power and love. They may help you, for the right price."
Harry nodded his head as he listened.
"Where would I find these Grigori?"
"Seek out a place of luxury and hedonism, the pleasure of the human experience, is what they live for."
The spirit took an unnecessary breath.
"Now send me back."Harry nodded and began to turn the stone but paused.
"Do you regret your sins, your ignorant abuse of power, your hate? The suffering you caused?"
The spirit gazed at Harry, impassively for a moment, then spoke.
"We are always the hero of our own stories, I did what I believed was right, I have regrets yes, but only that I put my trust in the wrong people, if not for that I would have ruled the world."
Harry shook his head and turned the stone in reverse.
"Goodbye, Herr Fuhrer."
Harry gazed off into the setting sun. He was close to her here in the Forest of Dean, it was where they planned to spend the rest of their days. He knew she would never approve of what he had done and would do, but she was beyond the veil and he was alone, she always forgave him and he knew shed understand.
It was time to leave, and with a silent whisper he disappeared into the night.