Chapter 19
When Harry returned from his parents' graves, he was alone. He looked furious, pained, and shocked.
"Are you all right, Fawn?" Reg asked softly. "Where are Sirius and Remus?"
"They turned their house into a touristshop," Harry said in a strangled voice. "They were selling my baby things!"
"What?! Who?" Reg demanded.
"I don't know who orchestrated it, but Sirius used his old Auror Summoning Coin and Madam Bones arrested the ones who were there," Harry said angrily. His voice softened slightly as he added, "Sirius boxed all of my baby things and promised to go through it when he got back."
"Where is he?" Reg asked.
"He's with Madam Bones, trying to figure out who turned my parents' house into-" Harry stopped and inhaled sharply through his nose. "He dropped Remus off at Remus' quarters, he was exhausted."
"We can talk about that later," Reg decided, seeing the time. "We really need to leave."
Harry nodded. "I need a distraction. What better way than to resurrect a Dark Lord?" he added sarcastically.
Reg squeezed his son's shoulder gently. "Let's go."
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Lucius was in the entrance hall when they arrived, carrying the box of Horcruxes. Reg had decided that it wasn't safe to keep all of them anywhere near Dumbledore, and Lucius had a lot of hiding places.
"Well met, Lord Malfoy," Harry said politely but nervously, eyeing the box.
"Well met, Heir Peverell-Slytherin-Gryffindor-Hufflepuff-Ravenclaw-Gaunt-Black," Lucius responded. "He's in the dining room," he said quietly to Reg.
"Where's the rat?" Reg asked sourly. "I don't want him anywhere near my baby."
"Dad," Harry complained.
"He was Obliviated and sent to the Ministry this morning," Lucius replied. "It seems the Dark Lord doesn't want him around children, either."
Harry was confused for a moment before he turned gray. "Ah, fuck. That's disgusting."
"Yes," Reg agreed shortly.
The door to their left opened and Nagini slithered in. Harry yelped and jumped, and Lucius shuddered.
Nagini hissed something, gesturing down the hall. Harry hissed back, and Nagini made a pleased, surprised noise. Harry looked embarrassed.
"You're a Parselmouth?" Lucius rasped.
"Yeah," Harry agreed. "She said Tom is getting impatient."
Lucius blanched and immediately began walked down the hall. Nagini flicked her tongue out, tickling the man's shin, and he squawked, almost falling over.
Harry snickered as Nagini gave him and Reg a smug look.
Tom was waiting in the dining room; he was seated at the head of the table looking pissed. Severus stood behind him, expression blank.
"Well met, Lord Slytherin-Gaunt," Harry greeted him stiffly.
"Well met, Heir Peverell-Slytherin-Gryffindor-Hufflepuff-Ravenclaw-Gaunt-Black," Tom grumbled. Nagini hissed something at him scoldingly, and Tom snapped back irritably. Harry choked.
"Put all of the Horcruxes in a circle over there," Tom ordered, pointing the homunculus' finger at a cleared area in front of the fireplace. "Potter, sit down in the circle." When he saw Reg's slight frown, he added in a strangled tone, "Please."
Harry said something quietly to Nagini as Lucius quickly began pulling Horcruxes out of the box. Nagini hiss-laughed, making Lucius jump again. Tom stared at Harry, who gave him in an innocent look.
Reg, Severus, and Lucius set out the Horcruxes, and Harry squatted down in between the diadem and the diary.
"Set me in the center," Tom ordered. "And switch the locket and the cup."
Reg switched the two Horcruxes as Severus (Lucius seemed too nauseated to do it) picked up the homunculus and set him in the middle of the circle.
Tom hissed something to Nagini, who nodded and slithered out the door, hissing something to Harry as she left. Harry grinned.
"Begin the ritual," Tom demanded.
Severus, Reg, and Lucius began chanting in Latin. The room burst with magic, and streams of light began flowing from the Horcruxes towards the homunculus.
The light engulfed Tom, and Harry passed out.
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Harry woke up.
He couldn't tell where he was. It was white, but it wasn't the hospital wing. There was too much white fog for that.
He stood up, looking around. "Hello?" he asked cautiously.
Hello, Master.
Harry jumped and spun around, coming face to face with a ten-foot tall, hooded creature. It was carrying a giant, freaky-looking scythe. Harry couldn't see its face; it was in shadow.
"I don't mean to be rude," Harry said slowly, "but... who are you?"
I am Death. Obviously. The figure sounded amused. Its voice sounded like a cold breeze.
"Uh. Right. Obviously," Harry said blankly. "Am I dead?"
Yes, and no, Death responded. It gestured an arm, and a bench appeared. You may want to take a seat for this, Master.
Huffing, Harry sat down. Death chuckled, and Harry shuddered -- it sounded like bones rattling together.
Apologies, Master; I am used to this form. Death waved an arm again, and it shrunk to about seven feet tall. It pulled back his hood, revealing a rather handsome-looking man with gray eyes.
"Is this better?" Death asked, vanishing his scythe. His voice sounded smoother and deeper -- and like an actual human's instead of a breeze you'd hear in a horror movie.
"Much," Harry said, embarrassed. Death smirked. "What did you mean by I'm dead, but not dead?"
"You are the Master of Death," Death replied, plopping down beside him. "You can die, but only if you decide to. You can go back."
"Thank fuck," Harry grumbled.
Death laughed. "You've spent far too much time around your father."
Harry grinned. "So, what does it mean to be Master of Death?"
"There are some responsibilities," Death allowed, "but you won't need to know them until you're of age. You should be allowed a childhood." His eyes flashed with danger. "What you need to know now is -- well, what I've already told you, you can't really die -- but also that you are a true Necromancer."
"Uh-"
"Usually, Necromancers don't have the power over life and death," Death explained. He saw Harry's hopeful expression and said gently, "No one can bring back the dead, Master, not even me. You can speak to the dead, you can summon them, but you can't bring them back. The closest Necromancers have gotten to bringing people to life are Inferi, which are abominations that you should never conjure."
"I don't know what those are, so, I can't do that anyway," Harry deadpanned.
Death snorted. "As for the Hallows-"
"The what now-"
Death muttered something in Latin, obviously not something flattering. "Read The Tale of the Three Brothers when you get back," he advised. "My Hallows -- the Elder Wand, the Spirit's Stone, and Death's Cloak -- are yours. You could combine them into a truly powerful and terrifying weapon, but I would wait until you're of age.
"The Elder Wand is the most powerful wand in the Universe," Death continued. "It's currently held by Albus Fucking Dumbledore. You need to get it away from him."
"Fuck," Harry exclaimed.
"The Spirit's Stone is in the Peverell Lord ring, and it allows you to communicate with spirits in the afterlife," Death continued. "I'll talk to Riddle. He owns the ring itself, not the Stone."
Harry wished he could see the look on Tom's face when it happened.
"Your Invisibility Cloak is Death's cloak. It's more powerful than any other Cloak; it blocks the Killing Curse, cannot be detected by magic (except for bloody Moody, I don't know how the [Greek swear word] that happened...)" he trailed off, muttering in Latin.
"Who's Moody?"
"Retired Auror, trust Dumbledore too much," Death said dismissively. He paused. "Your father is trying to revive you."
"Well, I want to go back," Harry insisted.
"One last thing, then," Death said solemnly. "This is very important. Don't-"
Harry's vision went dark.