Death, Potter Style
Disclaimer: I own neither J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter series, nor Piers Anthony's Incarnations of Immortality Series. On the other hand, I do own the Eiffel Tower, the Golden Gate Bridge, and the immortal souls of all of you unwitting minions who have ever eaten deluxe mixed nuts! Bwahahaha!
A/N: My daughter, Sue the Squirrel, wrote this first chapter, then lost interest in it. I am posting it here and will be writing more of it myself. It will, if I can prod her enough, be a joint effort. Since she is home schooled, I am making it part of her English assignment. How is that for EVIL?
Summary: Following his fifth year and Sirius' death, the abuse at the Dursley's ratchets up until Harry is no longer able to bear the burden and decides to end it all. As usual, the Potter factor makes for a grand screw-up.
On a Pale Broomstick
The ride home was stifling. Harry, from the back seat, watched in the centre mirror that showed Vernon's rapidly purpling face. He was glad he had not relegated his wand to his trunk, but rather had it inside his trousers alongside his leg. He might have to use it to defend his own life. In the next second, he thought; 'Why should I? It might even be better that way. I have been the cause of so much death and destruction, the world might very well be better of if I was not here. I was the cause of my parent's deaths, indirectly the cause of the Longbottoms being tortured into insanity, Cedric and Sirius died because of me, now almost every friend I have is injured because of my stupidity. They will probably never forgive me!"
These thoughts lasted until they pulled into the drive at 4 Privet Drive, Vernon smashing on the brakes and slamming the auto into Park. He turned in his seat to glare at Harry.
"Get your trunk out of the boot and get inside… NOW!"
Vernon hit the boot latch and stormed out of the car, cursing under his breath. Harry meekly went around to the back and pulled his trunk from the boot and headed inside. No sooner did the door close than Vernon's meaty fist slam into the side of his head, knocking him across the room, where Dudley was waiting with a fist of his own. Harry had no opportunity to draw his wand; it would not have done any good anywaysince his glasses had been knocked off his face and the world was out of focus. He did not see Vernon open the cupboard door under the stairs and throw his trunk inside, locking it with a sturdy padlock.
"I'll show those freaks not to threaten normal people! Boy, your summer is going to be filled with more pain than you have ever had! The menu you will eat from will have a beating for every bite of food, and a good thrashing for dessert. You will also write the letter every three days telling them that you are fine. The first time that you displease me, I will burn your stick, the second time, your ruddy bird dies, if there is a third, you will die, understand?"
Harry nodded his head; he deserved no less. He would not cross Vernon; Hedwig could not be made a victim. He thought about telling her to fly to the Weasley's and stay there; that way Vernon could not take his ire out on her. Dragging Hedwig's cage to his room, he fell inside and heard the door slam and lock behind him. The locks turned back and the door opened once again. He could not see anything more than a vague shape, but from the size, he could tell it was his aunt. A second later, his glasses bounced off the side of his head and a sneering voice spoke.
"You'll need these to see to write your letter. By the time your freak school starts, my Vernon will either beat the magic out of you or kill you. It's no more than you deserve." The door slammed and locked again with the sound of a prison cell door.
Putting his glasses on his face, he groaned as he realized that the lenses were fractured, making it seem as if he had the vision of an insect. Harry stood and put Hedwig's cage on his small table. Opening the door of the cage, he coaxed his first real friend out of the cage onto his wrist.
Taking her over to the window, he told her; "Girl, I need you to fly to Hermione's and stay there for the summer. Don't come back here or Vernon will kill you. When he finds out that my wand is not in my trunk, you will be his next target. I will just have to send my letters with whatever minder Dumbledore has stationed here." Hedwig gave a mournful hoot and slipped through the bars on the window. Harry watched as she flew away; at least she would be alive at the end of the summer.
Sitting on his bed, Harry fell deeper into depression. He knew he was not going to survive the summer; his aunt had pretty much verified that fact when she tossed his glasses into the room. He wondered how they planned to hide his body so the wizarding world would be fooled into thinking he had run away or something. He snorted; they probably had not thought that far ahead.
Thinking back to the scene in Dumbledore's office, he realized that it didn't matter to Dumbledore whether he lived or died anyway, as long as he took down Voldemort. Dumbledore had been keeping him weak and untrained while setting up situations where he jumped through hoops, going up against Voldemort, or a weakened version since year one. Dumbledore was shaping him into a murderer who would have no regard for his own welfare. The more he thought about his life, the more depressed he got. Not only did Dumbledore place him with the Dursleys, a more immediate threat than Voldemort himself, but he kept forcing him back there every summer. He realized at that point that even his friendship with the Weasleys had been planned; what witch who not only went to Hogwarts herself, but had sent five children there would be speaking about muggles on a crowded train platform, much less be asking her children if Platform 9 ¾ was the proper platform. This realization that Molly Weasley, a woman he regarded as a surrogate mother was part of the manipulation all along sent him further into a downward spiral.
It was at that point, Harry broke. Without even really realizing it, he had made a decision, one that would have far reaching consequences for both worlds. At once, he was at peace, no more manipulations, no more pain. He took his wand and placed it to his head. He had no illusion he could do the killing curse, it took more than he had. The Reductor curse, however, was well within his capabilities. It would have the added benefit of making a mess that Petunia would have a hard time getting rid of. Since he was looking down at the floor, he did not notice the black robed, skeleton faced figure slip into his room carrying a scythe. He began the incantation, "REDU.." while looking up. He saw the figure, but with his shattered glasses it appeared to be a Death Eater. In shock, he swung his wand around while finishing the incantation: "CTO!" A beam shot out of his wand, hitting the figure in the face, blowing its head apart.
Harry Potter had just killed Death.
Albus Dumbledore smiled as he put the last of the repaired instruments back on his desk. The oddly shaped instruments were his means of monitoring the second most dangerous person in the wizarding world, Harry Potter. The child, in Albus' mind, ranked right below Tom Riddle as a threat, not because he had any dark ambitions, but because if allowed to survive the upcoming battle with Tom, he could replace Albus as the most beloved wizard in the world. This, of course, could not be allowed to happen. He would guide Harry through the process of destroying Tom's Horcruxes, and then give Harry the tools he needed to kill Tom, but not enough for Harry to survive. It was a good plan, one he had spent years shaping.
A high screech from one of the instruments made him jerk his head up in shock. The object in question was designed to monitor Harry's well being. The screeching and shaking the instrument was doing equated to a wizarding clock reading "Mortal Peril". He gasped a second later as the instrument gave a last, violent shake, then fell apart. Albus jumped up from his chair, crossed to the fireplace and grabbed a pinch of floo powder, throwing it into the fireplace, yelling: "Arabella Figg's House!" He stepped in and disappeared.
Harry was still staring at the now deceased figure lying on his floor when the door opened again, and a middle aged woman stepped in. She gave the figure on the floor a sad look and shook her head.
"Oh Zane," she said sadly, "Of all times, why did you leave your protection down? I know you wanted to join Luna, but you had a lot of life left." She then looked at Harry and frowned. "Young man, you have no idea how much trouble you have just caused. You had a bright future ahead of you. You were supposed to defeat Tom Riddle, put that overbearing Dumbledore in his place and go on and produce little Potters for many years. Now the Potter line is ended, the Black line is ended, Dumbledore will keep manipulating the wizarding world until Riddle destroys it. Meanwhile, there is a tangle in my tapestry that I may never get out!"
"Uh, excuse me, I am right here. I am still Harry Potter, you know. But I have no idea what you are talking about. And the other thing, just who the blazes are you?"
"I am Lachesis, the middle aspect of fate. It is my job to measure the threads of life, along with my other aspects, Clotho, who spins the threads, and Atropos, who cuts the threads." She quickly turned into a beautiful young woman, then an aged crone before shifting back to her middle aged aspect. "And you are no longer Harry Potter, he is," she said, pointing at the deceased Death. "You killed him, the rules state that you must take his place."
Harry gawked, surely this could not be happening. He was going to kill himself to prevent becoming a murderer! Now this person was telling him that he had to kill for a living! He hardly heard her next words.
"Now get the uniform off him, I had Chronos stop time until I could get this straightened out. Come on, get his cloak, watch and scythe. Those are the instruments of your office."
Harry, in a daze, went to the body and began stripping the items from it. Sure enough, the body, past the ruined face, seemed to be him. His glasses fell off during the task, but he found he could now see perfectly well without them. As he gathered his new garb, he noticed that there was no blood on them. A sudden thought brought him up short.
"Who is responsible for things like prophesies?"
"That would be me. It is all part of the job of Fate."
"Somehow I thought that might be the case." Without warning, Harry hauled back and slugged Lachesis, knocking her down. "Keep your bloody hands out of my life, or whatever this is, or I will find out how much power I have over your soul! Do you have any idea the pain you have caused me my whole life, you bloody wench?"
"I guess I deserved that. I have not paid that much attention to your details, just let things take their natural course," she said, slowly getting up. Anyway, if you will put these things on, I can have Chronos restart time. You have a lot of work to do."
"And just how am I supposed to do that?"
"Oh, the watch has a countdown on it, and the bracelet has a locater for your next client. If you push the button on the right, the countdown stops, then the button on the left makes it restart. Mortis can explain the rest."
"Wait, who is Mortis?"
"Look outside your window, do you see that pale car in front of the house?" At Harry's nod, she continued. "That is Mortis. He can also turn into a horse, or any other small form of transportation that you might need." All of a sudden, Harry saw things begin to move around him, noises from downstairs. His watch beeped. "That is the signal that you are near your next client."
His watch began a countdown, it read one minute, and the hand showed the location as being in this house. He felt a shudder as the wards fell. A series of POPS announced people apparating in. Looking out the window, he saw a large group of people in black robes and white masks. He gathered up his scythe and went walked out of the room and down the stairs, Lachesis following.
The Death Eaters burst through the door, taking no notice of him. Vernon roared into the room, screaming about freaks. One Death Eater pointed his wand at Vernon and screamed, "Crucio!" Harry saw his uncle fall, screaming in pain. He began to take a step forward to curse the Death Eater, but Lachesis grabbed his arm, holding him back.
"It's not your job to stop them, just to collect any souls lost."
"Where is Potter, you filthy muggle?" the Death Eater asked, ending his curse. Vernon pointed upstairs.
"Take him and be gone, we never wanted him to begin with!" Vernon yelled.
The lead Death Eater pointed at one of his allies, then pointed up the stairs. The other Death Eater, wand drawn, ran upstairs. In the meantime, other Death Eaters searched the house, bringing back a terror stricken Petunia and Dudley back into the room with them. The Death Eater assigned to get Harry came back, his face ashen.
"Someone already got to Potter, he is up there dead with his face blown off. His wand is missing, so it couldn't be a suicide."
"Damn, the Master will not be happy, he wanted Potter for himself. You will have to be ready to answer his questions." If a mask could show pity, it would have, as the lead Death Eater looked at his fellow murderer. "Still, let's clean up." The Death Eaters pointed their wands at the Dursleys and said the fatal words, " Avada Kedavara!" Harry's last relatives drew their last breaths. There was a series of POPS, and one of the Death Eaters announced, "Dumbledore is here with reinforcements!" This was the signal for the Death Eaters to apparate noisily out.
"What do I do now?" Harry asked.
"Go to them and take their souls. Just put your hand in their chest and get them," Lachesis told him.
As Dumbledore and crew came in the door, seeing the carnage downstairs, Tonks ran up the stairs. They never noticed Harry or Lachesis, he going to each body and, reaching in, pulled the quivering souls from each. He gently folded them up and placed them into his bag for later attention. Tonks came running downstairs, ashen faced.
"They got Harry," she cried. "It's terrible. They used a Reductor on him, he is almost unrecognizable. They also took his wand."
Albus looked like he was an extra hundred years older. All of his work for naught! He never saw Harry and Lachesis walk past him to the car at the curb. As Ministry Aurors apparated in, Lachesis gave Harry some last instructions.
"You are now Thanatos, or Death. When you decide to take a break, tell Mortis to take you home. Your home is in Purgatory, you also have accounts at Gringotts should you ever need to purchase anything. You will need to go there quickly to claim them. You might also want to decide who to leave your estate to, they will make out a will for Harry Potter and backdate it. It will be important to name an heir so the Potter name and the Black name will not die in history. The tapestry shows many hundred years of Potters and Blacks, descendants that you can never have. Come see me when you are done and I will explain what I can about your job."
Harry nodded grimly. He had an idea what would happen next, Neville Longbottom was the other person who could have fit the prophesy; no doubt Dumbledore would turn his manipulations upon him. He looked at the controls of the car, but seeing no key, spoke. "Mortis, head to Diagon Alley, quickly." The car started, and with no input from Harry, headed toward the Leaky Cauldron.
It was strange going into the Alley as Thanatos. Tom took no notice of him as he passed through, although people at tables he passed seemed to gather their cloaks around themselves as if they could feel the chill of death as he walked by. Approaching the brick wall that separated the Leaky Cauldron from Diagon Alley, he started to pull out his wand, but the wall melted away at his approach. Stepping through, he hurried to Gringotts.
Entering the bank, he stepped up to a teller goblin. The goblin looked up and gave a small shudder, then nervously smiled.
"Welcome Thanatos to Gringotts. How may I serve you?"
Harry was floored. Where were the sneering goblins he had done business with for so long? He cleared his throat and spoke. "I am the new Thanatos, I need to get a backdated will."
"Certainly sir. Bloodeye!" he called, motioning another goblin. "Take Thanatos to the estate department."
Harry followed the goblin to a highly polished oak door with a plaque reading 'Estates and Probates'. Stepping through, he chuckled as he saw that the goblin behind the desk was the first goblin with whom he ever had contact, Griphook.
"Hello Griphook, it seems you finally got a promotion." Griphook looked up and, seeing Harry in front of him, shuddered.
"Hello Thanatos, is it my time? I heard that is the only way you take notice of our names. How am I to die?"
"Relax, I know your name because you have served me in the past." Harry pulled back his hood and willed Griphook to see his features.
"Mr. Potter! I see I am not the only one to get a promotion." Pulling parchments from his desk, he asked, "The usual Thanatos replacement set? Backdated will and heir assignments? I see that you will also be required to assign an heir to the House of Black." Griphook was gushing, nervously trying to not show just how rattled he was, after all, it was not every day that Death came for an office visit.
"Griphook! Please settle down. I don't even know if goblins are in my job description."
"Oh, that's right. We have our own Thanatos, known as Dasheille. It's just that your aspect and his have been known to substitute for each other occasionally when one is too busy. Alright, according to Sirius Black's will, you were named as his sole Heir. He left his title of Lord Black, his Wizengamot seat, and all his assets to you. If you do not name an Heir, it goes to Draco Malfoy since he would have been next in line."
"Gads, I can't have that, it would just end up being funneled to Voldemort. Okay, I want to name as Heir to the Black name and fortune, George Weasley. As Heir to the Potter fortune and name, Fred Weasley. I would like 25 percent of the liquid assets of both estates to be split evenly between Ron and Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood. Another 25 percent of the assets are to be taken and put in the Thanatos vault with receipts showing an anonymous transfer dated yesterday. That will make sure that I have whatever I need. I don't know if Ron and Ginny were in on Dumbledore's manipulations, but they stood with me in the Department of Mysteries. I am naming Fred and George my main heirs just to upset everyone that has ticked me off."
Griphook grinned, all of his former nervousness gone. He had heard of the twins, and heartily agreed with Thanatos' assessment. "It will be done, sir. All I need is your signature and a drop of blood. The five minor bequests will still be in the six figure range and you have just financed the office of Thanatos for at least a millennium. I will also put in a codicil that anyone who challenges the wills gets nothing. I would suggest that you leave at least one galleon to any other possible heirs, that way they cannot say that you mistakenly left them out."
Harry nodded, "One other thing, backdate a transfer from the trust vault. I want everything in there split between the Black and Potter vaults with the exception of one knut. Then leave the contents of the trust vault to Albus Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix. Make sure that he has to pay a fee before he can claim it. Hopefully a large fee. I want him to know just how much I despise him."
This time Griphook gave a full throated roar of roar of approval. "Do you want to leave a personal note inside the vault? It can be arranged."
Harry grinned. "Great idea, do you have any parchment?"
Griphook retrieved the parchment and a quill and handed them to Harry. He scratched a quick note down, then handed them to Griphook, who rolled the parchment up and tied it with a ribbon. Harry also wrote out personal notes to be included in the will for his friends, as well as making a few notes as to the disposition of his personal items. The will was quickly finished and handed to Harry for his signature and blood seal. As Harry stood up and shook hands with Griphook, the goblin said: "May I have died of old age and turned to dust a millennium before your successor comes in to make out his will."
"Thanks Griphook, May your gold flow like water and your clan grind your enemies under foot for countless generations."
Harry gathered his robes and scythe and headed out to Mortis. Climbing in, he thought for a moment. "Mortis, Lachesis said that you could change forms, can you turn into a broomstick?"
A screen in the middle of the dashboard blinked the words, "Of course," then the car changed form into a pale white racing broom. Mounting it, Harry said: "Home, Mortis."
The broom took off with a dazzling speed. Had anyone on Charing Cross Road noticed, they would have heard a yell of… "Whoopee!"
AN: This is my first fanfiction, please be gentle with me, I'm only thirteen. For misspellings and grammer problems, blame my dad, Hamm On Wry. He beta'd this story.