If I die young

Lily remembered screaming. 

She remembered begging. She remembered hearing her baby crying and not being able to soothe his tears. She also remembered when she first saw James in the afterlife and the utter devastation they both felt at leaving their baby all alone.

But Harry wasn’t alone because he had Sirius. 

Until he didn’t.

It was okay though because Remus would step up. Definitely.

But he didn’t.

Dumbledore would help her baby. She was certain.

He didn’t .

And Lily had to watch, betrayed, as the man she had once trusted put seals upon seals and spells upon spells on her child- her tiny baby. The man saw the horcrux and smiled. Lily had never wanted to spill blood more.

Albus left her child with Petunia and there was despair but a little hope. Perhaps Petunia would actually care for her late sister’s son?

She didn’t .

And Lily could only cry along with her baby, whose cries went unheard and tears went unsoothed. As a soul who had sacrificed herself for her son, she along with James were gained access to Elysium. It was meant to be heaven. But it was just another Hell to Lily, who could only watch as her son suffered more and more.

It became worse the more James and she begun to learn of just what had been taken and kept from them. They were Dragels. And they shouldn’t have been kept from their home… their heritage .

So when her baby finally gave her a long-lasting heart attack and Lily was sobbing because she was certain her child had passed too early… too soon . It was all brought to a halt when Death herself directly intervened.

And for the first time Lily felt happy because her son finally had someone in his corner. A powerful someone who obviously loved and cared for him. Who hadn’t let him die. Who protected Harry just as she did all those years ago.

But then the hellhound came to them with a proposition. 

And Lily dared to hope.

Death was carrying a confused Harry who was watching the rest of the deities put back the wayward soul of Tom Riddle.

“Will he want to kill me?” Harry asks in a small voice and Death blinks before smiles gently.

“If he does, I’ll kill him again and again until he lets go of his incessant pride.” She tells him sweetly and Magic shoots her an unamused look.

“You will do no such thing!” Magic demands and Death simply raises a brow, her head tilting towards Harry and Magic almost dreads meeting those wide, terrified green eyes.

She internally cringes before moving to stand beside Death, panicking at the slight tears she was seeing in Harry’s eyes. “I won’t let anything happen to you Harry. All of us will protect you.” Magic says calmly and he purses his lips slightly before burrowing back into Death’s embrace.

“He tried to kill me before though,” Harry grumbles and Death could feel the child stiffen in terror. He was only eleven after all and for all his bravery he was but a scared little kid who needed comfort.

She pulled him closer, a steady hand stroking his back. “You trust me don’t you Harry?” She murmurs watching as Life stitches the wayward soul pieces together, including the wailing wraith-like being who because of its screaming, required a muffling spell.

Harry stared at Death and blinked owlishly. It was strange but something in his soul told him Death was someone to be trusted… that she was someone who loved him and only wished him happiness. Harry didn’t trust easily. He couldn’t. But he could trust Death. “Yes,” He answers with a smile and Death beams.

“Then trust that I would never let anything happen to you,” She says and Harry feels a bit better then. It would never prepare him for actually facing his parents’ murderer again, but he did feel significantly safer.

It had been a very strange day. Harry had come to, in the middle of Death’s court with two men staring at him. They had red eyes and they were eyeing him like he might try to escape any second. Their names were Aiden and Melacor and Harry thought they were very nice if a bit uptight.

The two of them had proceeded to wrap him up in blankets and give him a bunch of sweets. When Harry had asked if he was really allowed to eat all the fancy delicacies in front of him, they looked really sad and really angry for some reason. They proceeded to get him even more food and sat down beside him while he waited for Death to get back.

“You are really important youngling. That’s why Death told her most trusted to watch over you,” Melacor had told him and Harry had blushed at the time but now he was beginning to realise just how much he meant to his deity. Death would literally destroy anyone who hurt him and it was a strange concept to understand. No one had ever loved him that much before. No one had loved him period. 

He didn’t understand why Death thought Harry was worth all this attention and love. Harry certainly didn’t feel worth very much -let alone a deity’s love and affection.

Time flicks him on the forehead, “No depressing thoughts. I prohibit it.” The Lord of Time announces and Harry giggles.

“I don’t think you can order someone to control their thoughts, Lord Time.” Harry grins in amusement and Time scoffs.

“Yes I can. If they don’t listen I can just sic Harmony on them,” Time grinned like a cat who’d caught a canary. “No one can say no to Harm,”

“Plus your thoughts make us sad,” Harmony murmurs, “We don’t like hearing you think of yourself in that manner,” Harmony floats over and gives him a gentle smile, one that made Harry feel warm and safe. If he could, he would've loved to bottle up the feeling or even Harmony’s smile just to take it with him so he’d feel warm and safe forever.

“Are we almost ready?” Magic demands. She was pacing back and forth, a worried expression on her face as she watched Lord Life stitch back together the soul pieces in the air. The thread he was using was luminous and Harry could see so much magic in the tiny things Life was looping around and around the fractured soul.

Tom’s soul was a bright red colour. Which was weird because it seemed only Death and Life could actually see the soul pieces. The rest of the deities were preparing the ritual grounds in the chamber. Lady Magic had deemed this place to be perfect for the ritual due to the ambient magic Salazar Slytherin had woven into the chamber’s very walls. 

“Almost… We just need to decide on what to do about the last sliver of Voldemort’s soul,” Life drawls and all eyes turn to peer at Harry, whose eyes widen.

“Don’t call him that,” Magic hisses in anger, but her eyes were worriedly trained on Harry’s form.

“What?!” He squeaks, tightening his grip on his deity. Death ran a comforting hand down and up his back.

“You even think about separating the two of them, I’ll kill every single person in this realm,” Death snarls in rage, eyes daring anyone to try her.

Life winces at this and Chaos just rolls his eyes, “Dramatic much Dea?” He grumbles.

“Voldemort left a piece of his soul in me?” Harry gasps, his breaths coming faster and quicker with every passing second.

“Yes but I deactivated it the second I saw you,” Death says quickly. “The soul piece had been active previously and was acting as a parasite. It’s inactive now.” She whispers, trying to reassure the boy who was on the verge of a panic attack.

Death instantly gets to her knees, pulling the child on her lap. Harry attaches to her like a limpet, claws digging into her robes and head shoved into her neck. “If I could’ve removed the soul piece from you without killing you Harry, I would’ve. It will never harm you since it merged with your own soul. Had it been removed instantly it would’ve been okay but not now. Not when Tom has been with you for eleven years,” Death explains calmly, never one to lie especially to her own champion.

“Will Tom’s soul be okay if he can’t have my soul piece back?” Harry asks in a quiet voice after processing the situation for a bit. Death decides to ignore the possessive mine in Harry’s tone when talking about the soul piece. 

“It will be fine. Tom’s soul was so damaged that the horcrux formed on the night you were attacked was but a sliver. It won’t affect either of you in the slightest.” Life answers, a calculating look in his eyes as he peered between the stitched up soul in his arms and the baby champion in Death’s.

It could potentially form a soul bond between the two and Life was betting his life savings that Fate was planning just that based on the glint in her eyes.

Death seemed to be thinking the same thing because she stands, Harry tucked under her chin, her face a picture of irritation. “Fate, Harry is but a baby,” She hisses, “If you decide to saddle him with an old man, I will curse your champion’s descendants,” 

Fate scowls at her, “I can’t control soulbonds!!” She demands, cheeks as bright pink as her hair.

“You see all and know all,” Chaos deadpans.

“I’m basically the reincarnation of a magic eight ball,” She hisses. “I can change things but my job is to make sure reality remains stable.” 

“Besides-” Fate scowls and points at the unconscious homunculus being held by Magic, “It’s his fault,” 

“Tom didn’t know!” Magic defends her champion and earns herself six deadpanned looks in response. Magic winces slightly at that, “He didn’t though,” She pouts, shoving her hair behind her in her frustration. Every move she was making was upheaving a bunch of glittery magic in her wake and it was making Harmony dizzy.

“Are we ready to put the man together then?” Life asks, seeming bored. He held the soul in his hands like one would a baseball.

“Are we putting Tom back into that doll thing?” Harry asks silently, nose crinkled slightly, and Death sticks out her tongue in disgust.

“No,” She shivers and watches as her champion does the same. Her keen eyes watch his eye movements and she cackles in delight at her realisation. “Harry, darling, can you sense the death magic on the homunculus?” She asks almost giddy.

“Isn’t it too early for Harry to sense your magic?” Time asks, concerned but watches Harry for his response.

“The magic feels icky, Death.” And Death cackles even louder.

“It does, doesn't it!?” She looked delighted, her face lifted in happiness.

“It seems Harry is extremely powerful,” Harmony muses, taking in the scene with a light smile. He was happy for Death. She was always the loneliest of the seven and Harmony was so happy she finally had a champion to call hers. 

“A homunculus is made from a branch of death magic known as black magic. Black magic will always feel disgusting… hmmm like someone is constantly eerily watching you because it requires a sacrifice to be performed.” Death explains to her child and Harry laps at the attention like a flower needing sunlight. Death has to stop herself from pinching his cheeks.

“And to answer your question; no. Tom will be going back into his original body. That much is nothing to me,” Death snaps her fingers and suddenly there were a bunch of tiny specks of dust zooming into the chamber. There were millions and millions of them and as they joined together they began forming limbs. Hands first…. then a chest and legs and lastly a face.

Harry thought Tom Riddle as an older man looked quite healthy compared to what he’d known Voldemort to look like in the old newspapers he’d seen and collected. “I healed his body from his horcrux insanity,” Life answers Harry’s unspoken question. All the deities had taken to teaching Harry like it was second nature. They treated Harry with the utmost care and affection. It made his chest hurt from happiness. Harry was very comfortable with the deities and he liked all of them. Death was his favourite of course.

“I’ll ignore that,” Life scowls at Harry’s thought making the boy blush a dark red. “But a human body is not made to be held up by less than a whole soul. When Tom began splitting his soul- it took a toll on his physical body. As such the sliver of soul in you has probably merged with your magical core. You were an impressive mage beforehand, Harry, but with the extra soul piece from a powerful wizard like Tom -a champion nonetheless- it made you quite possibly one of the most powerful wizards out there.” Life tells the youngling, booping him on the nose and trying not to laugh at the way Harry goes cross eyed trying to follow his line of sight.

“So the horcrux was taking away Tom’s sanity and magic?” Harry deduces.

“Yes,” Magic answers and cringes, “Imagine how catastrophic having six of them would be.” 

Harry grows silent, but his gaze is a bit more pitying. “Why did he do it?” He whispers, staring at Tom like he was the biggest catastrophe and biggest mystery at the same time.

“He feared me ,” Death answers, her tone unimpressed.

“Oh,” Harry was quiet. “You’re not scary though,” He whispers to Death like he was telling her a big secret and no one can hold in their snickers at Death’s offended gasp.

“I am too scary! Take that back!” Death demands making Harry giggle.

“Face it Death, you’re losing your touch.” Chaos snickers and plops a kiss on top of Harry’s head who grumbles.

Why was everyone around him so tall?!

Death sighs before nodding, “I might as well lose my touch if the one calling me out is my champion,” She grins not at all apologetic. 

Life moves slowly and he gives Death a look who sighs before moving towards Harmony and passing over her precious bundle to the brunette who handles Harry like he’s the most delicate diamond in the realms. Harry settles easily in the Lord of Harmony’s arms, his head plopping gently in the junction of Harm’s neck. Chaos discretely took a picture of the two because they were just so cute. Especially Harm’s enamoured expression bordering on disbelief at Harry’s trust. Their lover looked seconds from crying. 

“Let’s begin then,” Life murmurs and Harry couldn’t help but watch, eyes wide as Lord Life and Lady Death both begin chanting in a weird language. He strains his ears but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t understand.

“It’s an ancient immortal language. You’ll learn it when Dea teaches you. You’re too young right now,” Harmony murmurs to Harry, who just gave him a curious look. “The language holds immense power. It would do more harm than good if you learned it now when your magical core is still developing.” 

Harry accepts that explanation swiftly, eyes returning to the ritual. The body was starting to hover and Harry realised that all seven of the deities were using some of their powers to ease the transition of Tom’s wayward soul back into his body. 

A golden sheen was wrapping around and around the body arranging itself in a pattern much like the hours of a clock. Death’s eyes were glowing much in the same colour as the ribbons wrapping around Tom whole. Life was shining an eerie shadow colour, tendrils of black whipping out from him to wrap around the man much in the same manner. 

The spinning was getting faster and a heavy breeze was pulsing through the entire chamber. An unearthly howl ripped through the air and Harry’s startled grip on Harmony tightens in fear. Tom was choking on his screams but the deities continued their plight. Magic looked ready to either vomit or burst into tears.

Tom’s eyes snap open and there’s a quiet, stunned second before he’s screaming again and Harry recognizes the signs of a dragel inheritance almost instantly. He’d been asleep when his own inheritance came in. Aiden had told him that Death took away all his pain and had placed him in a healing coma until his transformation was complete. And then had left him healing until Harry himself felt ready to wake up.

Harmony stills in concern both towards Tom and Harry as well. The young submissive was wincing in pain, and Harmony could’ve smacked himself. “Harry you have a gift called Empathy. You can feel the emotions people around you,” Harmony explains, heaving Harry up higher in his arms 

“W-what does that mean?” Harry whispers, as if too scared to speak louder over the screeching. One hand gripped at his chest in apparent pain and the other was holding into Harmony for dear life.

“It just means that you’re a bit more sensitive to the emotions people feel. The radius depends on how powerful you are,” Harmony explains. “You can’t feel our emotions because we have barriers against that sort of thing. Mortals do not,” Harry wince was getting deeper and his eyes grow slightly foggy from the pain. He was following along with Harmony’s explanation quite fine, however.

“I can place a dampening spell on you to help with the flux of emotions,” He offers and at the tiny nod he receives taps a single finger over Harry’s head. The result is instant and Harry falls limp in the deity’s arms, face burrowing into the Lord’s shoulder even more.

Harmony starts to hum lightly, rocking the child back and forth. “M’not a baby,” Harry grumbles and Harmony can’t help but grin because despite Harry’s words he was slumping more and more almost into a meditative state.

The deities were all rather tall and to prevent Harry from serious neck pain, they all took turns holding him in their arms. It wasn’t like Harry could ever be heavy to the deities. Harry was severely underweight and Death was panicking over getting him into a healthy weight bracket. Harmony would have found the mother-hen behaviour funny if he wasn’t just as worried.

Time watches the ritual, a frown on his face. None of them enjoyed seeing a champion in pain. It just wasn’t done. The process of returning Tom’s soul intact to him was so precarious that Magic couldn’t risk putting the boy in a healing coma until after Life confirmed the soul transfer had gone without a hitch. It seemed Tom’s inheritance was too impatient to wait a second longer and the boy was shifting into what Time could tell was a dragel with Mage leanings. If they’d waited longer for the transfer, perhaps two years, then there was no chance Tom wouldn’t have ranked as a Gheyo Joker in Time’s humble opinion.

However his current rank was no surprise given which deity Tom was bonded to.

It didn’t take long for the poor kid to pass out. Tom would have a seriously sore throat from all of the screaming. Time could tell Tom’s physical body was taking the form of when he had been 34 years of age. This was most likely the earliest point of time where the boy hadn’t gone completely insane. 

Lady Magic had pulled the boy onto her lap trying to soothe him, rocking the boy back and forth. As if her presence could take away the pain her champion was feeling. The pain on his friend’s face made him ache. He could do nothing to aid and it grated on his nerves.

“Stop looking so grumpy,” Chaos strolls over, a smirk on their lips. Their crimson eyes, however, were set in stone. The red buds could’ve reflected light if Time shone one in there. As always the deity of Chaos tended to say one thing while feeling something completely different. Time could tell his friend was not at all at ease with the happenstance of this chamber. Time would bet his clocks that the Leige would rather claw their eyes out than hear another second of that boy screaming. Already Time could see Chaos leaning more and more towards Harmony and Harry, still in their little cocoon of comfort, seeking a little light from their most innocent pair. “It’s a happy occasion. Magi has her person now.” Chaos muses, eyes flickering from their beige cat purse to their eccentric claw-like nails. They wore green sneakers to pair and a flowy off-black gown that hemmed at their knees and flowed behind them like a dream.

Time still had trouble understanding his friend’s styling choices. He had stopped debating with them about their clothing colour schemes a millennia ago.

Harmony seemed to have lulled their tiny human into a deep sleep seeing as the little brat was lolled over Harm’s shoulder, mouth open with gentle snores sounding around them. Time hated that he found it so adorable.

He needed to take a picture.

“Again Harry is my champion.” Death hisses at him making him raise his brow unimpressed.

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying dearest Dea?” Time’s wide grin that kept growing was starting to scare Death. “Should I inform Fae of your little shenanigans then?” Time threatened, making her eyes narrow into slits. She could even feel her left eye beginning to twitch from her agitation.

“Inform me what?” Fate seethes. She hated when her fellow deities just deemed to ruin all her well-thought out, stable futures with their selfish desires. It took a lot of work to right reality okay? She didn’t need the extra stress or work.

“Nothing yet,” Time states elusive and neither one of their thoughts deemed any interesting tidbits about their shared secret. They had too much practice hiding secrets from one another for that to be a worry.

“As stimulating as this conversation is, we have shit to do and two champions to deal with,” Life states, golden eyes annoyed. Death rolls her eyes but stares around, her deity powers coming into play as she gazes at past events in this chamber. 

Nothing really good had occurred here since the death of Salazar and Death felt the agony of Slytherin’s beast as she lived on eons without her person. The snake had been a true familiar to the once powerful mage and Death stares at the spirit of the beloved basilisk who was stuck in this chamber even in death.

The fifty foot snake was mourning, even though she was already dead. Her tail wound tightly around the statue of her dearest friend, head resting on the bridge of Salazar’s nose.

She seemed to realise who exactly she had captured the attention of and her head begun to shake in dismay. “I promised to stay here. I promised him to protect the children. I failed,” Death had guided many a soul to rest and yet it still tugged on her cold heart every time. 

“Salazar misses you. He does not fault you for your pain or insanity. He does not fault you, for the blame lies with another,” Death tells her, walking towards the snake purposefully. Death could see tears well up in the snake’s eyes.

“I can’t die yet. I must protect the students. I have….” She pauses head titling downwards and a glance to the inside of Salazar’s statue reveals a nest of three basilisk eggs, “… much to protect,” 

Death inwardly mourns the children who would hatch without their mother.

“It does not do well for a soul to linger,” She says not uncompassionate to the mother’s plight. Death stares at the mother who hisses sadly, the basilisk’s head falling to the statue once again with a depressed sound.

“Would you give my hatchlings to the green one?” The basilisk asks timidly and Death blinks in shock. “He smells powerful and kind. He tried to get me to stop my attack and smelt sad when he finally had to kill me. And this is even when I had almost eaten him.” 

Death swallows a little, her eyes flickering to the nest that held three little eggs. A wave of sorrow fills her when she sees two of them had been crushed to death in the alteration. Only one of the eggs remained alive. “Your eggs will be safe young one,” Death materialises beside the huge basilisk who chortles at being called young.

“I haven’t been called young in quite some time my lady,” Death smiles softly, hand stroking the snake’s snout. 

“All of my children are young to me,” Death murmurs and plants a gentle kiss on the basilisk’s snout.

“Thank you,” She hears as the snake slowly disappears to where Salazar and his companions were.

He’d take care of her and her two young children. They would all be fine.

She pops back down to the nest and picks up the remaining egg. And this little baby would be fine too.

“Your work always makes me tear up,” Time scowls, sniffling pathetically to the side. “Tell me you aren’t giving a baby that deadly snake,” He continues, pulling a tissue from thin air to blow his nose.

“Harry could use a familiar,” Death says softly, “One to protect him always. And this young one will be blessed by me.” She taps the outside of the shell sending a wave of death and soul magic into the tiny hatching.

“His owl is going to riot,” Fate grumbles, crossing her arms in annoyance. 

“Ah that reminds me! Harry’s things,” Death snaps her fingers and Harry’s belongings were all in a single trunk with his owl staring at them warily from behind bronze bars.

Death couldn’t help the wave of sadness and anger at her child’s minimal belongings. 

“You better spoil that kid, Death,” Life seethes and Time wrinkles his brow. 

“Of course I’m spoiling him, who do you take me for?!” Time demands and Death didn’t mind, even as all the immortals sighed in bemusement at the Lord of Time. Harry needed all the spoiling and all the love.

It shocked all of them when a whole phoenix pops out of thin air to rest on Hedwig’s cage, eyeing them with pouty anger.

“Since when does Harry have a fire bird?” Harmony whispers, still rocking Harry gently in the kid’s nap. Harry was still a newly inherited dragel with a new champion bond. Plus Death didn’t even know when his realignment cycle was. For all that she was knowledgeable, dragel cycles weren’t really something she actually knew off the top of her head.

She needed a couple books. Or she could just ask Aiden to study it and tell her the most important points.

Chaos snorts, trying to repeatedly touch the bird only to end up getting burned because why not touch the literal phoenix? 

“The kid is blessed by Chaos, what can I say,” Chaos grins.

“Well take it back,” Death deadpans and Chaos looked affronted. 

“My blessings are gifts!” Chaos demands, “Besides you know other deities can’t bless champions.”

Fate rolls her eyes, strolling over to flick the Chaos god, “Tell that to Lily Evanson,”

Chaos puffs out his cheeks, affronted. “I’ll have you know that Lily was one of my favourite humans along with any twins born to the Prewitt line.” His grin was trying to be sinister and it made Fate smack him again.

“As long as you don’t interfere with Harry specifically,” Fate grumbles. “The poor boy has enough on his plate to deal with,”

Magic pulls her champion closer to her, healing spells on the tips of her fingers, washing over Tom’s still body. “Could we all head home now? I need to make sure Tom is okay.” Magic says stiffly, coming to a stand.

Her hand hovers over Tom, lifting his still body into the air. Death could see multiple protective spells woven into the poor man so deeply Death didn’t think even an avada would have any luck in hurting Tom.

Well it wasn’t like she had any room to judge. Harry was infinitely more protected than Tom… if she did say so herself. 

Life holds up a sword suddenly with a heavy scowl on his face. “What is this? Why is there a legendary sword here?” The Lord demands and Death eyes the weapon warily already knowing exactly why the wretched thing had reappeared out of thin air.

“Harry can’t wield that - that thing!!” Harmony voices her exact thoughts in the same exact offended tone she would have used. Death found herself grateful for how protective Harmony and Time were of her champion. Easier to keep him safe at least.

Life stares at the sword for a second before he scoffs and throws it at Death who catches it with a single hand. Her head whips around to glower at the Lord of Life who smirks. “It belongs to your champion Dea, the Sword of Gryffindor is yours to deal with now.” 

“Harry is going to end up losing a finger,” Fate grumbles and Time chortles.

“He’s a devastating amount of trouble isn’t he?” The Time deity cackles, his clock eyes winding up madly with his amusement.

Death stares at the bloodlust coming from such a sword and she didn’t even want to think about the fact that it was imbued with basilisk venom. Anyone who touched it would have a one way ticket to her domain. Not Harry though, after he bonded with his little snake friend, the venom wouldn’t affect him at all.

That’s what she was hoping for at least.

Fate was about to have an aneurysm. She had teleported into the deities’ shared abode only to be met with a very clearly alive Lily and James Potter. 

They were sat upon a love seat, drinking tea and looking clearly frazzled and anxious. Their eyes immediately slide past the deity to lock on a small head of dark hair. Harry was still asleep on Harmony’s shoulders and Fate felt her heart clench at the gathering tears in both parents’ eyes at the sight of their son. However her anger at the situation and her thriving migraine made the rage overwhelm her sadness.

“DEATH!” She roars, fuming. A vein was beginning to pulse in her temple and a very clear twitch was starting up in her left eye.

Fate wanted a god-damn holiday. Only if she did that- her beloved champion would be left to handle all the bullshit that came with being the Lady of Fate. And her beloved Reina was not equipped yet to deal with the disaster that was actual fate and its horrendous relationship with the fabrics or reality.

“Reality will demand compensation for this and I AM NOT PAYING THAT PRICE!” She shouts, her violet rose eyes furrowing in her fiery temper.

Death purses her lips trying not to laugh because somehow Fate’s anger always made the deity make faces that were way too funny to her. “Reality will just have to deal with it.” Death shrugs, purposely getting on Fate’s nerves to see more of those funny faces.

“Fae calm down,” Time drawls, strolling over to wrap an arm around the enraged woman’s shoulders. 

Fate sends him a scathing look in return, slapping his arm off. She hated when they all acted like she was the stick up their asses when in reality she did so much. And they never appreciated her! She could just let the fabrics of reality close in on themselves, killing every mortal ever to exist -but she wouldn’t do that because she had a code to strive by.

Besides, her fellow deities would probably all just murder her along with their mortals. 

But a bit of appreciation would be nice. 

Fate was the type of deity who preferred to be loved from a distance. She didn't get to be close to anyone. She couldn’t allow herself to do so. The only ones she had were her fellow deities and her champion. It was dangerous for Lady Fate to love because she would sacrifice anything- even the end of the world for the happiness of her loved ones. Balance be damned. Fate was like the flames one loved as a child. One learned to fear them as they grew older. One began to understand that those flames brought pain and hurt. She was like that. At least that was how she would describe herself and her role. Fate was a fickle thing and she was always cursed at for being a cruel mistress. 

But Fate tried her hardest. However happiness always came in tandem with heartbreak. There needed to be rich people and poor. Death was required for life to be made and she was the chess master moving the chess pieces on a board only she could see.

Already she could feel the amethyst gemstone embedded in her forehead starting to heat up. With the obvious discourse between life and death, reality was demanding reimbursement. The omniscia in her forehead allowed her to glimpse into the future to see every move anyone could possibly make. And then she would enact the route less bloody and distressing to appease the fabrics of creation.

Fate just hoped no one hated her too much for what she would be forced to do.

After all it was out of her hands now

Chaos was not liking the dulled look on their friend’s face. Fate’s once bright eyes were now a solemn shade. Which usually only occurred when something drastic had to be done on her part.

She was flicking the ornaments on one of her four golden ji hairpins. Chaos thought she kind of looked like a cute Christmas tree with the amount of pink tassels and crescent moon decorations in her hair but Fate said it added to her allure, so who was Chaos to judge?

“Put Harry down for a nap. He’s still recovering,” Death whispers to Harmony who moved to put Harry in the room Death had set up for him.  

Lily and James both jerk forward as if electrocuted at the sound of their son’s name and Death eyes them shrewdly before sighing and motioning them forward. “Don’t wake him up,” She grumbles, “It’s a slightly induced healing sleep,” Death winces at the way Harmony’s neck cracks when he whips his head around to glare at her.

“DEA!” He hisses and Death’s nose crinkles.

“What!? Harry was having an empathetic feedback loop. Those are painful. I did what I had to,” She wasn’t pouting but it was a close thing.

“I’m putting Tom in his room,” Magic scowls at them, “Put the poor kid down for a nap. Harry needs the rest please,” She strolls away, eyes worriedly trained on her champion, with Life on her heels to assist. Tom’s soul was still recently transferred. He wanted to be there in case of any mishaps. 

Lily and James stared at the boy in Harmony’s arms with wide eyes. They looked to be both tearing up and James looked to be heartbroken while trying to stop himself from snatching his son from Harmony’s arms, who would no doubt curse the mortal if he attempted any impudence. Lily appeared three seconds from a killing spree, her hands clenched to her sides, her green eyes flaring like the deadliest venom. Chaos did not know why mortals thought Harry and his mother had the same colour eyes. Lily’s eyes were much lighter and more akin to a peridot left in the sun for too long. Harry’s eyes were for one influenced by the death magic that had latched on the babe when Tom had attempted to murder him. Hence the comparison to a colour much more vivid. Avada green, the mortals called it. 

Chaos thought it suiting. 

“Follow me,” Harmony whispers, his grip on the boy protective. Great. Their lover was already attached. 

Chaos would be watching over the little, tiny gremlin for a millenia to come now. 

Just great. 

Chaos couldn’t complain though- he liked the little gremlin too much.

Harry’s eyes propped open from one of the best naps he’d ever had in his life. He blinked blearily up at the ceiling of his room - he had a room now!- and Harry peers down at the side of his leg. There was a heavy warmth on his foot and he gazed into the red eyes of a very keen hellhound. It was Melacor. Harry could tell by the tiny scar by his left eye. Also Melacor’s eyes were a lighter shade than Aiden’s was. Aiden’s eyes were the same colour as blood. Like the man had bled from his eyes and the colour had stained his pupils forever. 

“Melacor?” Harry whispers, sitting up and rubbing his bleary eyes for a second before realising that he hadn’t needed his glasses in a while. That was really nice. He couldn’t really see property with his glasses on anyways. So the better sight was something Harry was immensely thankful for. 

The hellhound’s head snapped up and then the dog leapt off the huge bed and transformed before his very eyes back into his human form. “Wow,” Harry gaped in awe and Melacor’s usually strict face softened slightly with his amusement. 

“Thank you, young Lord.” He says and walks around the bed to stand at alert. “I have been placed here at my Lady’s command to protect you during your long rest. I am to take you to the war room immediately when you are ready.” 

Harry stares at the hellhound a bit dumbfounded. “Uh… thank you?” Harry says slowly and a tad confused causing the edges of Melacor’s lips to crinkle upwards. 

“You need worry not, young Lord. You are safe evermore here. You will always have a family and a place in Death’s court. You’ve been asleep for a good three days. My Lady has informed me that this is quite normal of a newly inherited dragel submissive. You were also dealing with the aftereffects of a newly instated champion bond.” Melacor explains, sitting gently beside the floundered child, whose eyes held more pain than a youngling’s should.

“It’s normal?” The boy asks timidly and Melacor swallows heavily. The tone held more answers in it about Harry’s previous homelife than anything else would actually. Melacor was weak to children. He didn't mind it seeing as his Lady was softer around minors as well. It was a point of pride to care for children in their court and Harry would quickly learn that he would be quite protected and adored here. 

He places a gentle hand on the younglings mane of untameable hair, his heart clenching slightly when the child leans into it heavily. So Melacor begins to pat at his hair gently. He would not move his hand until Harry wanted him to. “It is completely normal, Harry,” He says softly, smiling kindly at the child who slumps in relief at the confirmation. 

He stays silent, waiting calmly for Harry to speak next. Harry seemed content to lap in the attention Melacor was providing him, eyes staring up into his own with surprise and a touch of awe. “My aunt used to do this to my cousin. I always wondered why he liked it so much. I know now,” Harry whispers slightly and the lump in Melacor’s throat grows even more, his resolve growing. 

“You can always come to me for as many headpats as you want.” Melacor says instead of the million curses he wants to bellow at the youngling’s relative. Harry’s smile was blinding and also a little amused. 

“You feel mad though?” Harry asks, trying not to laugh. Melacor was so shocked he almost stopped with the gentle strokes through Harry’s hair. Sue him, he wanted the young Lord to look presentable in front of his Lady. If brushing his hair like this made Harry happy and made him look decent as well- then two birds with one stone. 

“I feel mad for you, youngling. A child is not supposed to be treated how you were treated,” Melacor explains gently. An empath? Harry would grow to be extremely powerful, Melacor could just tell, if the amount of seals that had been on him were any indication. Lady Death and Lord Life had been absolutely furious when they had realised how bad it actually had been for the young submissive. Add his Nameless talent to the powers being Death’s champion would grant him…. No one should get on the young Lord’s bad side that was for sure.

“It wasn’t abuse.” Harry’s eyes harden instantly and his body tenses up. Melacor just upholds his gentle touch and nods slowly. 

“Hmmm was it not?” He asks calmly and Harry shakes his head tensely. “An adult's job is to tend to and keep safe those under their care. Your aunt failed supremely at this. She was dreadful in her treatment towards you and emotionally hurt you as well as physically. She didn’t provide you with the means to grow or a safe space to live in.” He continues, his notes from the investigation Lord Aiden had went on still fresh in his brain. 

“It wasn’t abuse. It wasn’t.” Harry refuses, his voice shaky and so Melacor lets it go for this time. Harry’s mind healer would be informed of this of course. 

“Alright, as you wish Harry. Shall we get ready for the Lady?” He asks, smiling when Harry’s face lights up at the mention of his Lady. 

“Death is waiting for me?” Harry asks timid and Melacor nods, keeping his amusement to himself but obviously failing in the presence of an empath if that glance Harry throws him was any indication 

“Yes she is,” Melacor says and Harry jumps up to race to the bathroom, not realising that Melacor had been giving him very nice headpats all this time and the absence of them felt really bad.

Harry turns around slowly, eyeing Melacor warily and the hellhound smiles genty, elbow propped up on his crossed legs, his chin resting in his palm. “I- I can come to you for headpats anytime?” Harry questions, the hope in his voice thick. 

“Anytime,” Melacor says firmly and Harry relaxes with a wide grin that soothes the dangerous edge in Melacor’s heart. 

“I’ll be just a second Mel! Wait for me okay?” Harry dashes in the bathroom before the hellhound could react to the nickname. 

‘He can never call me that in front of Lord Aiden,’ Melacor panics, knowing that he could never say no to those eyes again and that he was well and truly screwed. 

James was panicking. 

Well…not really. 

Well- actually yes he was. 

He was alive. And his son, his baby was across the hall and he couldn’t even go in to see him. Well he could. Harry was just asleep right now. And he didn’t want the poor kid to wake up to find his dead parents staring at him with tears in their eyes. Harry would think he had gone insane. 

So he was stuck here with actual immortals and a hell of a lot of his questions answered from his time in those heavenly fields he had been living in. 

He’d seen his mum and dad and it had been wonderful but his entire heart had been missing the entire time. 

His beautiful, wonderful son had been through hell and back. He’d almost died and the thought makes James want to kill Albus Dumbledore and Petunia Evans all over again. Only he couldn’t take his bloodrights now because his baby was asleep. James was alright with that, however, as Harry needed the sleep and the healing it would provide. And secondly, the instant Lily and he had been brought back to life, their own dragel inheritances took root. Apparently dying for eleven years and living in the Elysian Fields broke any and all seals on their person. 

When James had seen the list of seals on himself and Lily, it’d taken him a solid hour to be convinced not to go on a murder spree. Which is probably why Death was keeping Harry’s healing reports to herself until they were safely in Nevarah. 

James had words he wanted to have with the Peverell branch in Nevarah and he knew Lily had a bone to pick with her mera and circle. Because he did too. 

How could they have all been failed so badly? Even his brother- Sirius had been abandoned and James was not leaving Earth without his blood brother. 

And he was killing a couple people too. 

No biggie. 

“Stop planning murder without me,” Lily grumbles from her place on their shared bed. She was plopped on the covers, hair splayed out wildly and yet her fingers and legs kept twitching as if she wanted to grab someone. 

James could guess who. 

James gasps, “Lily flower, I would never,” He grins at her, “All my plans include you, love.” He beams, making her eyes soften. It came as a shock to no one in the room -except maybe them a little- that they had turned out to be soulmates. A single touch after their inheritance confirmed it for themselves and Death had informed them in no short terms that if they didn’t bond immediately, it would not go well for them. Of course the couple had no qualms about bonding. They were married and joined in all ways a wizard and witch could be, so binding themselves in the dragel manner was just another way they could call each other, mine.

“You're the one that would be doing all the fighting of course,” James teases, making his wife snort. 

“You know I would be the one fighting, you bastard. Besides there is no one better at protective enchantments. You’re the one who was on his way to getting a mastery in Runes, Alchemy and Transfiguration.” She drawls, sitting up and showing off the bite mark on the top of her neck. She was a Praeya which was very suitable in James’ opinion. He’d taken one of her stunning red and green scales for himself and she’d taken one of his bronze and gold scales to loop around her neck. They didn’t think they needed anything else to show their love other than their brilliant boy in the room across from theirs. 

“I can’t take this James. What if something is wrong?” She huffs, eyes erratic and tense. It had taken the deities only a second to notice that the two of them were a third-quarters way to being absolutely feral and Chaos put a stop to that immediately. 

“Ruin our house and I’ll kill you for real,” They’d grumbled, not really meaning it seeing as Lord Harmony had been glaring at them from across the room.

“Of course our son gets an in with actual deities and brings us back to life,” James was so proud of his baby, he was actually preening inside. Lily glares at him.

“I’d have preferred him to have a happy life and be raised like an actual child and not be manipulated into dying for the world one day,” Lily scowls, her hair starting to flicker with flames at her emotions. 

“Babe, you’re on fire again,” James deadpans and she groans.

“I swear the second you start causing earthquakes, I’ll be all over your ass,” She grumbles, getting to her feet with a sigh as she begins to pace back and forth. “Raising him to be a fucking martyr,” Lily scowls so hard she begun to shake again. 

“We need to claim bloodrights. Apparently then Death can make them suffer as well. She wants in on the torturing you know,” James muses, deep in thought. He was thinking about all the ways he could kill Albus Dumbledore for what he had put his son through. 

“I DON’T NEED BLOODRIGHTS TO MAKE THOSE BLOODY BASTARDS PAY!” Lily screeches and her entire head catches fire. Her flames looked a lot like the colour of blood which was fitting for his bloodthirsty wife… in his opinion….-but don’t tell her that. 

He snaps his fingers and a buttload of water is summoned to plop on top of her head, putting out the flames. “Burn the whole place down, love. I support you.” He motions sarcastically and Lily finds herself inhaling deeply. James gets a bit concerned when a whole minute goes past and she was still inhaling. 

“Just breathing can’t help with your mental issues babe,” James tells her and Lily scowls. 

“And reading crappy romance novels can’t help yours!” She snaps, making him blink in outrage. 

“EX-cuse me! Therapy is expensive,” 

“You’re a Lord of two bloody ancient houses. You have more money than you know what to do with,” Lily drawls, making James grin proudly. 

“And you’re my Ladyyyyy…..” He beams at her and Lily blushes, her anger still high but it was simmering now instead of boiling. 

“You already married me, idiot.” 

“I did, didn’t I? Even death couldn’t part us,” James brags and Lily smiles at him finally.

“I guess that is worth bragging rights,” She concedes slowly, and James pulls her back down beside him.

“We can’t go see him because he’s an empath love and we’re feeling a lot of not nice things right now,” James murmurs to her. James thankfully doesn’t react at all to the bite he knows is coming as Lily takes her comfort feed. 

It had been weird at first. And James likened it to becoming a vampire in his head but he’d never voice the joke out loud for fear Lily wouldn’t take the blood she needed from him, like he was welcome to do to her. His neck, heart, blood and soul were all hers for the taking.His everything was hers. There was very little he wouldn’t do for her if anything. 

It was a while later before they heard a loud door thump open and the pitter patter of feet racing through the halls. 

Instinctively they both knew who those footsteps belonged to. 

Lily was out of his lap and flingling the door open faster than he could blink but he was already on her heels, looking just as frantic and hopeful. 

“Death!” Harry’s giggly voice was raised. His sons’ tiny body flings towards the deity who catches the boy tightly. 

“Harry!” Death returns the enthusiasm and plops a messy kiss on their son’s cheek. Lily makes a pained noise in the back of her throat, her hands clutching to anything desperately. They’d stopped in their spots just listening to their son’s laughter. James was tearing up. 

He never thought he’d hear the sound again. 

It was still the most beautiful thing he’d ever heard in both of his lifetimes. 

Melacor sighs beside them and gazes at his Lady and young Lord with a wry look. His eyes flicker to the stone frozen Lily and James Potter and his heart goes out to the two. 

Death seemed to think the same because she was whispering to Harry under her breath before Harry’s head whipped around to stare at his parents who had gone even more still. 

“Harry. I got you a present,” Death had voiced to the boy who looked at her like she hung the stars and the moon. 

“You didn’t need to get me anything though?” Harry replied, his cute head sticking sideways in confusion.

Death had given a sad smile, “I did little one. Because this gift is your parents,” She whispered.

James felt his throat go as dry as sandpaper as he watched his tiny human stare up at them hopelessly. His hazel eyes were wide behind his lenses and James was sure he'd stopped breathing. 

Those were Lily’s eyes. 

The colour was a bit darker than his Lily’s but the shape and the contour and the lashes were all his wife’s.

James watches, his heart quickening in his chest as the boy looks back and forth between them and Death as if asking the deity if this was all real. 

The deity sets Harry on his feet and James watches the hope increase slowly in his baby’s eyes. His mouth wobbled a bit and James felt his heart melt. 

Not only Lily’s eyes but Lily’s chin then. 

His Lily’s features were staring up at them and it was his Harry’s distressed sobbing he was hearing, dark hair being clutched in Harry’s hands. Those were his curls. That mess of dark hair was all James as was the slender nose that was crunching up in heartbreak. 

Those eyes were so expressive and James swore his entire world titled when he stared into the eyes of his son once again. 

His son. His.  

His son was in front of him again and James fell to his knees beside Lily who was already collapsed on the floor, silent tears streaking down her face. The bond between them was sour with heartbreak and devastation that made it hard to breathe. 

“M-mom?” Harry whispers, like if he spoke too loudly the dream would all go away. 

Lily nods desperately, finally allowing her tears to make noise, as she all but crawled towards her baby trying to latch onto the boy who was in shock. And for all the waiting she had been doing for this precise moment, nothing could prepare her for the reality. Her whole world froze- because her whole world had been stolen from her on that dreadful night on Halloween. Her child’s tiny figure had her very heart exploding in her chest. 

“Dad?” Those green eyes turn to James and it was like a bullet took him back to heaven because his heart had finally returned to him. 

James lost his voice and all he could do was nod just as desperately as Lily was. She’d grabbed their boy with soft trembling hands engulfing him in the type of hug only a mother could. 

It was at that second Harry finally understood that -no- this was not a dream and his parents had actually come back for him. Hiccupping cries escaped his throat and a loud wail rips through the house. Harry could feel his father wrapping shaking arms around both him and his mum. And Harry had never felt so safe in his life. 

There was no more logic left in Harry’s mind because this was Lily Potter and James Potter and they were his in a way nothing had ever been before. Harry clung to his mother, holding on for dear life, crumpled in her lap. 

Lily’s eyes were blown wide in a tortured state, her grip on James and her son, bruising. The heart-wrenching cries were destroying her heart and something primal in her was roaring upwards to protect her baby. She clutched her son to her chest just like she had done to him all those years ago when she was running up and away from the killer that had taken her husband’s life.

Her son. Hers. 

The wailing grew louder, Harry’s cries ones of the soul. His crying telling of an age-old pain that only a parent’s love could soothe. Harry collapsed into the hug and the family of three was united once more in a blanket of pain that seeped into the skin of anyone watching

They were finally together once again.

And together they would remain.