Chapter Text
~ *~* ~ *~* ~ *~* ~ *~* ~ *~* Prologue *~* ~ *~* ~ *~* ~ *~* ~ *~* ~
He had been stupid, reckless! His dreams were plagued with nightmares ever since the night Voldemort was brought back from the dead, the night that Cedric was murdered in front of him. Images of people, Magical and Muggle alike, being tortured, flashes of green from the Killing Curse, and Voldemort's voice, his laugh; his very presence haunting him. And then add the media slandering his name, Umbridge torturing him and the whole of the Wizarding world turning against him yet again!
But he still tried to help them, save them. Why? Because he was adopted by his godfathers. Sirius and Remus, a bonded pair. Sirius the Omega and Remus the Alpha. They had taken him in secret to Gringotts and had a formal adoption made. And to his shock, his favorite (least favorite for the public's knowledge), and yet feared, teacher had been present. Professor Snape was their witness and he learned that his mother had named him his other Godfather in the event neither Sirius or Remus could take him. The man had been protecting him ever since he got to Hogwarts, had to play a role and had even apologized!
They helped him through the hell of Fourth Year and tried to protect him as much as they could during the summer and the start of Fifth Year, but that all came to a crashing halt. He had a vision just after they had finally chased Umbridge out of the castle, letting Firenze and his herd have at her after she nearly killed Bane, Firenze's mate. He saw Sirius being tortured, saw Remus dead in the background and could hear Voldemort's whispered voice. He wanted to save them and went to go on his own, but his friends came with him. It warmed his heart to know that even when he wanted to do something alone, he always had someone to watch his back. Though some had looked a bit reluctant to come with him, but he was too worried to properly pay attention.
Upon arriving, they snuck through the Ministry, seeing as it was mysteriously empty. Which in hindsight should have alerted them to it being a trap, but he didn't care, he had to make sure his fathers were alright, that he didn't lose his parents for the second time in his life! They got to the room that they were supposed to be in, but saw nothing, saw no one, no bodies, no blood; nothing. And then Mr. Malfoy appeared and they were trapped by more Death Eaters. They wanted him to get a prophecy about him and Voldemort, which he did grab, but he refused to give until he knew where his fathers were.
When none of the Death Eaters told him, he gave a quiet signal and his group of friends opened fire. The attack had startled the dark wizards as the group broke up and ran off in random directions, tossing the prophecy back and forth like they were playing rugby or Quidditch. Ron, Fred and George had set up in rather quick succession a series of prank spells that confused the Death Eaters (he would forever enjoy seeing Mr. Malfoy bedecked in neon pink with garishly orange hair and rainbow glitter covering every inch of his skin).
Hermione, Ginny and Luna were whipping out hexes and jinxes as if they were proud Amazonian warriors. He and Neville tag teamed, when he was on the offense, Nev was on the defense and they switched seamlessly. If the Death Eaters had thought they would have an easy victory they were wrong. Ginny finally sent off a Reducto which caused all the shelves, seemingly endless in all directions, to collapse in a domino effect. They ran to avoid being crushed to death, falling through a door and landing in a strange room with an arch in the dead center.
He, Neville and Luna were the only ones who could see a smoke like curtain billowing out from it, could see the shadowy figures of the dead, could hear them. The others only saw empty space, but felt dread from looking at it. They turned to leave, but more Death Eaters attacked, they flew about the room like smoke and shadows until each of his friends was taken prisoner and held at wand point. He was left with Mr. Malfoy once more demanding the prophecy.
He was going to hand it over, on a foolishly vain hope that if he did they would let his friends go, but then he remembered who all was here. Bellatrix LeStrange (holding Neville) was not known for showing mercy, neither was her husband (Hermione) and his twin brother (Luna). Crabbe (George) and Goyle (Fred) Sr. were here as well and they were more thugs than anything else. McNair (Ron) enjoyed hurting everyone. They would just torture and kill them anyway, not caring that they were still children. So he smashed it.
Mr. Malfoy went to hex him, but was distracted by Sirius appearing from nowhere (Shadow travel via Severus' aid) and punched him in the face, all the while telling him to leave his son alone. Then white, almost glowing versions of the mist and smoke trick the Death Eaters had used were being used by the Order of the Phoenix. It had been chaotic. Spells, yelling and cursing, Moody and Tonks thankfully got his friends out of danger as he and Sirius were locked in a two on two duel with Bellatrix and Mr. Malfoy.
And then Remus shielded them both from behind as suddenly the Death Eaters were engulfed in shadow before they were flung at the walls, most knocked out, but there were a few still standing. Severus appeared from his shadow, pulling him close in a brief hug before he proceeded to scold him. His parents (all three seemed to hold that title) tried to send him away, but a powerful curse from the LeStrange brothers dropped Remus' shield, a silver knife striking him in the chest and forcing him to stumble back into the arch as Sirius screamed and tried to save his mate, but was pulled in with him. Severus saw a flash of green spell fire and threw Harry into Moody's arms as it hit him in the back. He, too, fell through the veil with the other two. The scream of anguish that Harry had let out, would forever haunt those who heard it. All but the laughing bitch!
He came out of his thoughts as he heard Bellatrix, cheering and laughing that she killed the traitor (Severus) and the faggots (Sirius and Remus). His screams turned from sadness to rage. He dropped Moody with a kick to his prosthetic leg, rage fueled cutting and stinging hexes dropped the Death Eaters and nearly got the bitch in the throat, but she ran off, still taunting him as she went and he had followed.
His mind was filled with only the thought that he was hurting, alone and it was her fault! His vision was engulfed in fiery red, his magic, which was abnormally powerful for someone his age, seemed to break something in him, doubling, tripling, it kept growing! The sheer magnitude of his power knocked the bitch down and when he aimed a Crucio at her, thinking of her bones grinding to dust, from her waist down, because he didn't want to kill her just yet, it brought the most delicious sound from her lips.
Her wails were music to his ears. He thought of her being cut a thousand times, shallow and non lethal, but enough to hurt and that they were drenched in acid. Her screams echoed through the main lobby of the Ministry. But sadly he couldn't kill her because the snake-faced bastard had arrived. He dodged a hex as the bitch crawled to her master. He didn't hear what she had said to the madman, but Harry didn't fucking care! He wanted her to fucking pay, to fucking DIE!!!
He attacked Voldemort, giving everything he had. The older Wizard matched him spell for spell, but then Dumbledore had to arrive and shove him out of the way, causing him to snap out of his rage and take a spell to the eyes. His scream of pain was drowned out by the fierce battle he could hear going on around him. He stumbled to his feet, just barely able to see and tried to get out of the way when suddenly he was caught in the crossfire, two spells hitting him at the same time. He distantly thought he heard his mother's scream, thought he saw the Minister arrive to see Voldemort's retreat, thought he saw a pleased and triumphant smile on Dumbledore's face before he welcomed death's embrace...
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~Forgive me~
~But it seems I was too late in my arrival, Little Master~
Huh? Who was talking to him? Why was someone talking to him? Wasn't he dead?
~I am talking to you, Little Master~
~And you are not dead, not yet at least...~
~Perhaps this will help you 'see' me...~
He gasped as he felt deathly cold fingers that felt so thin they were nearly skeletal touching the outer corners of his eyes. Suddenly his world lit up in white before going black again. He frowned, how was this supposed to help?
~You are adorable, much like Ignitus was,~
~Though when we first crossed paths he was a grown man...~
~I cannot say the same for his older brothers, they were pricks...~
Harry gasped as waves of pale light, a gentle moonlight white filled the void of darkness and he could 'see' that he was still in the main lobby of the Ministry. But there wasn't much color other than black and varying shades of white. It appeared with sound, acting like sonar. As the person -demon? No, an angel maybe?- talked, he would 'see' the world around him. The only colors he could see was spell work. He saw a blackish purple curse and the brilliant green, the same color of his eyes, of the Killing Curse. But it was who was casting what, that shocked him!
“Wh- what's happening!?”
~Shh, be calm...~
~It is alright, I am here, Little Master...~
He turned to the being and gasped, where the 'light' of the sonar like waves should have lit up around a person -he's still not sure about all of its abilities- was a void of emptiness that took the shape of a robed being. Inside the void was a rainbow glow that took the form of a skeleton. He must have stared too long because the skeleton moved and the feel of bony fingers on his face startled him because he could see the skeleton had touched him!
~Calm, young one, hush now...~
~I will not and cannot harm you, Little Master~
“Why do you keep calling me that!? What is happening?!” He cried, realizing that everything around him was frozen and that what he was actually 'seeing' was his death! He began to hyperventilate and would have fallen into a full blown panic, if the skeletal being did not wrap him in a strangely comforting hug.
~This is the Crossroads.~
~Here you have to choose:~
~Half Life: Continuing your current life?~
~Life: Not here, but somewhere else, somewhere you will be safe?~
~... or...~
~Death: be reunited with your parents...?~
Harry paled, he may not have been a religious or overly superstitious person, but he's heard stories of the Crossroads and their demons. Either when you are utterly lost, usually at a literal crossroads, and are about to die, or have died, but your spirit has yet to leave your body, a demon appears, taking on the form of a stranger or even a loved one who's passed on. They manipulate you, play with you, promising you things and granting them, but the catch is that they will collect your soul. Selling one's soul, even in the Wizarding world, was a horrible and terrifying ordeal, only the truly desperate, insane -usually with anger or grief- dare to make a deal at the Crossroads.
~Please do not insult me, I am not those lying vermin...~
~I am the one who walks beside you...~
~Sometimes, I save your life and am called a Guardian Angel~
~Other times... I do not~
~I have no beginning and I have no end...~
~But I am constant and can be anywhere, anywhen~
~And I am FEARED !~
Harry gasped as the being spoke his riddled poem like speech. He looked deeper at the rainbow colored skeleton (It was the being's magic!) and the shape of the void around it. It was taller than any man he's ever seen, clearly humanoid in shape. The void around the skeleton flowed and undulated like a cape, or a cloak. He's read books before (when he could sneak them from the Dursley's or he would sneak out of bed at Hogwarts -and not having to deal with the yearly danger- and hide in the library to read the night away) about various cultures and religions, legends and myths about the Gods and all other Divine/Demonic figures. He gasped again as it clicked.
“Death.” He breathed, but there was no fear. He hadn't feared it when he felt the Killing Curse hit him -and he was stubbornly not looking at the two spells and who had cast them, who murdered him- and he certainly did not fear the Grim Reaper now that they were face to face.
~Bravo, Little Master...~
Death clapped and he's sure he could hear a smile in his (her? Maybe it?) voice. The entity moved again, pulling Harry close and the hug was comforting, which was again strange, but with how touch and affection starved he was, he did not fight them off.
~Yes, I am Death...~
~And the reason I call you my Master is simple...~
~You have my Cloak,~
~And I am giving you my Wand and my Stone...~
Death pulled a long stick from the air as well as a stone. The cloak, one that had once belonged to his father, also appeared as well. The items had the same rainbow auras around them.
“I don't understand...” Harry confessed.
~The night my Sister's Dark Champion attacked your family,~
~He marked you...~
~Earlier that night,~
~Your mother invoked an ancient and forgotten ritual...~
~She called to my Sisters, Magic and Chaos,~
~Begging them that should the Dark Champion attack them,~
~No matter what happened,~
~That they spare your life...~
~What Lady Liliana did not know, my Master,~
~Is that I am called as well,~
~3 is a very powerful number after all...~
~My Sisters and I spoke...~
~And we agreed...~
~Magic looked into your blood, your very soul and awoke your full potential.~
~Chaos created a runic circle to protect you,~
~Using the love and deaths of your parents to fuel it...~
~I stood guard over you,~
~Marked you with the symbol of one touched by Me and still living...~
~Blessed Thrice, kind of heart and soul,~
~I, the God of Life and Death, welcome you,~
~Hadrian James Potter,~
~And name you Master of Death,~
~My Master...~
Harry felt a power so old, he couldn't begin to fathom how it came to be, wrap about him. It burrowed into his skin, through his flesh and blood, cutting deep into his bones and sitting content like a cat in a sunbeam within his very soul. The sensation was frightening, and yet it felt like the warmest of hugs, safe and inviting. He gasped as the world turned white and then black. For a moment he panicked, but Death's chuckle made the moonlight waves dance again, showing him the world.
~You have great potential, Little Master...~
~But if you so choose, I will obey...~
~Will you choose Life?~
~Half Life?~
~Or Death?~
Harry furrowed his brow, turning to look about the main lobby of the Ministry. Humming a song, tuneless but constant so he could see. In the distance, he could make out the portly form of Minister Fudge, who verbally attacked a child, sullied his name and slandered his Papa, just because he was too afraid to believe, nevermind admitting that Voldemort had returned. Had sent the monster known as Delores Jane Umbridge to Hogwarts where she tortured and bullied children. He was surrounded by his usual entourage of Aurors.
Off to the side he could see the Order with his friends, -he breathed easier knowing they were safe- fighting one another. The adults were trying to pull and keep his friends back, but they either did not care or did not pay them mind. They were trying to reach Harry. But he noticed something odd. He walked over to them, his footsteps were atrociously loud in the dead silence of the Crossroads. He carefully looked at their faces, which was hard to see the details of because while the moonlight waves outlined everything around him to the littlest detail, it did not define features or expressions.
~You will find, my Master,~
~That your other senses have tripled,~
~If not reached superhuman levels...~
~The Blind use their hands, ears and nose,~
~Even their sense of taste to see the world.~
Harry blinked his eyes, he did recall the few disabled people who lived in Privet Drive or around the area. A blind woman, who used her hands to see the world around her. So carefully, he reached his hands up and cupped Hermione's face. He traced it, painting an image in his mind of her exact expression which was one of abject horror and sadness. He pulled back as if burned and was scared to see the others, but something was off. He could see the outline of Tonks holding her back, the quirky woman had her head bowed in mourning.
Next to her was Ginny; tracing her features, he looked at the image his hands painted for him and saw devastation, but the sadness he saw was only surface deep. He yanked his hand back, frowning. She was being pulled back by her mother. Touching Mrs. Weasley, whom he had slowly begun to see as a second mother, he yelped and fell back. However he did not fall to the floor like he was expecting, Death -when had he moved and why did he not hear or sense it?- easily bracing him and keeping him on his feet.
Shaking his off startlement at Death's quickness, he focused on the look that his examination of Mrs. Weasley's face painted for him. She was angry, but oddly happy, but why!? He moved next to Ron and the moment he touched his face, he yanked his hand back hissing. Ron was... Ron was smiling... Smiling! There was no reason for it, unless he was glad that Harry had been killed!?
He was afraid to look at the last four, but Death's hands grabbed his wrists -he fought him, but for an entity made of nothing but bones, Death was unfathomably strong- and made him touch the Twins faces. They wore looks of devastation and anger, but he could make out the faint lines of sorrow. Mr. Weasley's outline was behind them with what looked like one of their elder brothers. Touching their faces, he found the same mix of anger, sorrow and devastation -the nameless Weasley wore it to a lesser degree since they had never formally met and thus never knew one another, but it was humbling to know this person was angry and saddened on his behalf.
Neville's face was next and Harry sobbed. There was no expression, just emptiness, but Harry felt the gelatin like tears running down his face, felt the utter pain around his eyes, even as the rest of his face was empty. The last one was Luna. When he felt her face, he was shocked to find a soft smile, contentment, but the gelatin tears running down her own face told him she was also deeply saddened.
“I--”
~Your true friends...~
~And even the ones you have not met yet,~
~Are deeply saddened by your 'death,'~
~Little Master.~
~However, there are many...~
~Many false friends,~
~Many liars, whom you have given blind trust to...~
~They are only upset that you died too soon...~
~But that will not stop the monies being paid,~
~The power and fame they would gain...~
~And do not think I have not noticed how you are avoiding looking at your death...~
Harry gulped. He had avoided it because he didn't want to believe it. But now that he's 'seen' the looks on the others, he could not avoid it any longer; would not avoid it! He wanted-- no, he needed to know! So pulling up all his Gryffindor courage, he turned around and with each step he clapped his hands, allowing himself to see where he was walking. Once he was back where he had been originally standing -floating?- he finally looked.
Death was humming what sounded suspiciously like 'Lovely bunch of Coconuts' to himself, -did Death even have a gender?- the sound providing a constant sonar like wave as he looked at what he had avoided. The two combatants were lit up in the moonlight white of the sonar. A third figure in the dead center of their attacks was lit up in a dark gray aura, neither fading nor brightening. It seemed it was the aura of someone who was either dead and hadn't crossed over, or was dying. Looking toward Voldemort, he could see that he was the one to cast the dark purple spell.
~The Öga Skärare curse...~
~His casting is sloppy,~
~The scars around your eyes are worse than the clean cut it should be.~
Harry frowned at that comment, reaching up a hand to feel the spiderweb network of scars around his eyes. He could feel his eyes blink, but didn't dare to try and touch the eyeball itself.
~They are not damaged,~
~The nerves and muscles of your eyes however...~
~I can lighten the scars, and in time they will fade,~
~But it is up to your magic to try and heal the damage...~
“Thank you... I guess even entities and Gods have to obey rules...” Harry mused before he turned to 'look' at Dumbledore.
A cold, dark feeling filled him as he looked at the bright green of the Killing Curse, casted from his Headmaster's wand. A sudden, humorless and self deprecating laugh escaped his lips. The man he thought of as the epitome of all that was Good and Light in this world, who preached forgiveness and togetherness, who said he's never and would never cast any of the 3 Unforgivables. And yet there he was, murdering him! While his back was turned and he could hardly see thanks to the first curse that hit him in the eyes.
“Besides my friends, why would I stay here?” Harry asked, Death. “Who is to say if I survived the Killing Curse a second time, that Dumbledore won't try to find another way to kill me? And I don't like the looks on Ron- Ronald's, Ginerva's, or Mrs. Weasley's face. I am clueless, but I am not stupid. As much as I want to stay and protect my real friends, I can't; I'm done...”
~... You do realize that eventually you will have to finish your story,~
~Do you not, Little Master?~
“I figured as much, but... haven't I've given enough to this world?” Harry sighed. “How much more do I have to bleed, to suffer... to lose before they will let me be me?” Harry asked back. “When can I have my own happiness? Or am I not allowed to love and be loved?”
~It is a curse for those born to do great things...~
~Merlin, as worshiped and revered as he is now,~
~He too suffered greatly...~
~He bled, cried and suffered for the people of Albion...~
~Healed them, fed them, protected them,~
~Even as they turned against him, time and time again.~
~He lost friends and family,~
~His mate.~
~And then he gave his life for them.~
~Morgana is viewed as a villain,~
~But she was simply a tragic Hero,~
~Who never got to be great.~
~Lied to her whole life, drugged by those who promised to protect her.~
~Promised a throne that she would never sit on.~
~She was broken,~
~Easily moulded for the needs of those who promised her deepest desires~
~What she was lacking.~
~And she too gave her life in the end, when she was finally Great.~
Harry said nothing, imagining two of the most exalted Magicals, who were spoken of with reverence. Imagining them suffering in silence, in secret at times. Smiling when all they wanted was to cry, laughing when they wanted to scream. He could relate; he's lived it, is still living it.
“They can wait... I want to heal, not just my eyes, but my heart and my soul... They are just as badly scarred, if not more so.” Harry told him. “Besides I just lost the three men who have done more for me than anyone else. I haven't even grieved yet...”
~If it will make you smile,~
~Little Master,~
~Lady LeStrange has been permanently crippled.~
Oh that did make him smile, it warmed his broken heart to know his second parents murderer was suffering as well. Perhaps later, when he eventually came back, he would finish what he had started. Turning from his death, he looked at Death again, scowling when he had to look up. Why did Death have to stand at nearly 10ft tall?
~Because that is the height I've always had...~
~What will you choose?~
~Life?~
~Or Death?~
“If I have to eventually come back, why have the option to die?” Harry frowned.
~Because your mother's protection was meant for that one time.~
~You live now, because I am keeping you here,~
~This is the Crossroads between Life and Death.~
Harry nodded, “So if I want to die, I will die. Harry James Potter will be no more, the Wizarding world will perish as well. Either by Dumbledore's hands or Voldemort's...”
Death nodded as Harry looked up, but saw nothing but darkness.
“If I die, my friends will suffer and die as well... But if I choose Life, and like you said, it is elsewhere: what about them? They will still suffer....” Harry sighed, none of the options worked for him. If he returned now, he would have to either kill both Dumbledore and Voldemort right here and now to prevent future suffering or risk always being on the run. If he died, the whole world would suffer and Harry would never want anyone to suffer the way he did, so he couldn't even rest in peace. And if he chooses to live, it means he will be transported somewhere that wasn't here and his friends, the real ones, would still suffer.
~Suffering is a natural part of life, Little Master,~
~I have watched you, protected you long after your parents passed on.~
~You have suffered so much for the machinations of an old man.~
~It is now the world's turn to suffer.~
~But I promise, your friends, while suffering for now,~
~Will not Suffer for long.~
Death told him, his tone brooked for no argument. The sentence was also quite ominous. It could mean that they eventually either win or escape, find happiness or die. It wasn't perfect, but Harry really had no choice. Death tricked him, he realized, but it wasn't done out of malicious intent. Death was surprisingly very affectionate and perhaps a little paternal. He sensed that Death was smirking at him, knowing what he was thinking and feeling.
“Well you’ve already chosen for me, so I might as well agree... I wish to live.” Harry told him.
~As you command, my Master...~
~And remember, you always have a choice...~
~Do not follow what you think you should do.~
~Lead your own life, Master...~
Before Harry could speak, move, anything. Death's cloak surrounded him as darkness filled him and a bone deep, but comforting chill stole his consciousness away...