James considers that he may have died. It's not a strange thought, not really given his occupation as an Auror. He admits that it happened sooner then he had hoped, he was only twenty-four after all. But considering the circumstances, it's perfectly acceptable to die in a high stakes mission.
Though....James didn't think it'd be sooooo...white? Well that's not necessarily true. If anything, he's waiting for the huge pearly gate and heavenly clouds. When nothing happens he abandons post, turning away instead.
James wanders, cause he's has the attention span of a Niffler.
He walks aimlessly, waiting for right about anything to happen. He wanders across the plane of expanding white, and watches as space takes shape from the ether. He recognizes it, as it slowly bleeds into the shape of the Ministry of Magics entry halls.
James stops, finding it awfully eerie to see it so...colorless, especially when there are nearly no people about. Nearly, because James does see one person, a small one.
The person, or goblin, or house elf he supposed, stood lonesome by the statue that James knew to be the centerpiece of the Ministry of Magics hub space. James squared his shoulders, for a moment wondering if he could run away stealthily enough to fuck right out of this.
But he was dead, so he supposed that he might be too late.
His boots click noisily across the floor as he makes his way to the statue, making his cheeks warm and giving him a sudden and immense appreciation for the drowning din of the real life Ministery. One truely didn't know what they had until they have to go without it.
The person, he notes, is infact a tiny human. A child, a voice awfully like Mooney's, chides. The kid, a boy, he supposes looks to be around seven or eight. He was dressed in nondescript black clothes, save for the small stab of white around his collar. He was pale, nearly inhumanly so in the gloomy light of the alien space. and his baby fat laden cheeks were framed by the curls that struck from his crown, sprung out in every direction with little logic or reason.
He,all in all, in James opinion looks a lot like himself.
Only tiny, and pale....and his eyes.
Oh lord his eyes.
In some ways they remind him of Evans, the beautiful girl he'd spent a good chunk of his Hogwarts years chasing after-- the girl with hair the color of fire and eyes as green as spring leaves. This boy had green eyes too mind you, but if Evans could be described as lively this kids was....
Hm.
James came to a stop just a few feet from the child. How looked up with a solemn expression. His eyes were as green as they came, shockingly so- but they reflected no light, and the pupils, start dark as usual, had expended far past what was normal for a healthy human child.
Now James likes to think he's hip with the youth still, but even in his heyday kids this little weren't off their shit like this....probably. So if James had to guess between a sloshed child and an unidentified child-shaped entity, he's hedge his bets on the latter.
He stares down at the too pale face and waves awkwardly " Wotcher..." he trails off, bringing his hand up to his face and tangling it in his hair with nervous energy.
The child says nothing, tilting his head. He seems to look James over, his eyes holding profound intensity. It sort of makes James skin crawl, as if the he's being torn apart with a simple glance. The child, satisfied with what he finds, nods. A tiny smile pulling at his lips.
"Hello." his voice is faint, having a quality that makes James feel like his teeth are quacking. The boy puts out a hand, offering it to James. Who stares, slowly taking it into his own.
It's awfully cold, like ice...or that of a corpse. But James can't allow it to trip him up, because the little sprog starts bloody moving.
It all comes as a surprise when he has to adjust his stride to walking with the little thing, and he looks down as he is led further into the Ministry. "Um, seems like you know where we are then, don't you? Can you tell me what this place is?"
The child spares him nary a glance "C̴̢͓̣̺̥̭̥̣̺̯̱̊͆͗̓r̶̛̘̣͈̻͔̂͌̈́̈̓͂͒͛̃̐̈o̸͚̲͑ṣ̴̟̒̄̓̐͛͊̔͑̾̈́s̴̡̛͈̮̱̙̯͉̮͓̱͂́̀̕ ̶̡̧̲̪͓͍̹͔̝̻̯͓̦͆̔R̷̛̠̝̋̽̿̎̄͂̃͑̏̽̚ǫ̵̧̟̫̙̟̮̰̔̂̀͐̑̋̓̀̃̌̎̀̊̓ͅa̴̢̨̛͍̩̯̦͕̩͔̭͍̣̖̰͛͗͂d̶̛̜͎͓̓̿̾̍s̸̢̃̽͛̀̑͛͗̓̚͜"
James doesn't stumble, but it's a close thing. His brain seems to stall and a chill runs up his back, he can damn near feel the gooseflesh ripple up his arms. He licks his lips, "Ah." being the only words he can reckon. They drop lamely, and shatter at his feet.
Anyway.
"Ok. So um, what's....this place supposed to be then? Some kind of limbo?" he peppers the boy, looking about as familiar architecture forms around them, he wonders if they'll pass the Auror department.
The boy hums, "Yes." he pauses, looking at James suddenly "I pulled you here." he says it nearly bashfully, as if he'd suspect James might scold him for it. James, stupid as he might be, at least knows not to scold unknowable horrors.
He nods, as if it all made perfect sense "Well, I'd supposed I would have died had not been for your lovely interferance...?" he waits for an answer as they descend deeper, James gets this funny feeling he knows where they're going.
The boy pauses, looking once more at James face. His eyes don't carry the same eerie insistence anymore, and now simply glance across James expression. Measuring him.
"You would have died if I didn't take you. I don't want you to die again." He makes way for the lift and James marvels, his head running circles about 'again.' He somehow knows without saying that should he ask, he'll get no answer.
"Thank you, I rather like not dying" he graces the boy with a friendly squeeze to the hand and what more then likely a harried looking smile. The child looks with a startled expression at their linked hands, before something like happiness flutters across his face. Only to die shortly after.
Oh well.
"Um, can you tell me who you are, then? Someone important, I'd reckon-- given you can just pull folks into limbo..." he putters off helplessly. Taking the moment to follow the boy from the lift...ah hell. James sighed, looking up at the entrance to the Department of Mysteries.
The boy led the way "My name is--" James doesn't hear him, even though his mouth his moving. He blinks, raising a hand to touch his ear, which has begun to ring.
What?
He furrows his brow and looks at his free hand, which is covered in stark bright blood in this entirely white world. He sees it, and it's there, but he doesn't understand. He feels an insistent tug on his fingers, looking over to the young boy who watches him with empty eyes.
He speaks, and this time James can hear him "You aren't ready yet." very simply, his expression nearly apologetic. James squints.
Honestly he's probably right.
Still, though- he was law enforcement...he should try to investigate.
James hums without commitment, the duo making their way through the lair of the unspeakables. He's rarely afforded the chance to come down this way, most of his cases thankfully not really needing him to delve into the primal mysteries of the universe. Somehow, he thinks that with this meeting, that might change.
Eventually, too quickly in James opinion, they get to the death room. Because of course they do, don't they?
James Potter ends up standing before an ominous stone portal in the middle of the department of mysteries. The stones black in spite of the unified whitness of limbo the portal glowing sharply enough to pierce the gauzy veil that flutters in a wind that does not exist.
James frowns, suddenly incredibly intimidated. He looks away from the portal, and instead at the child at his side. Who looks back at him, a tiny smile on his face.
"You can go back through here, but only once. If you cross through the portal again, you'll go were I can't reach you..."
James swallows, unfathomable fear lancing his chest. "Ahhh....so d-does that mean you'll rescue me again if I die some other way?" he stammers, trying to deflect the strange terror with poor, awkward humor. The child only watches on, silent.
Then, "Soon, nothing else will be able to kill you, I'll protect you."
Fuck.
James ignores that, because he just bloody can't. He looks instead at the portal. He heaves a great huge sigh, detangling his hand from the boys and reaching over to give him a pat on the head in thanks.
"Well, let's just hope it never comes to that, aye?" he rocks on his heels, taking a step forward--but stops just short "Is there anything I can call you? Something that I can say when I inevitably get interrogated about all this...?" he waves his hands, motioning to the....everything.
The child moves around, coming closer "You can call me The Master Of Death." he says simply, before pushing James Potter through The Death Veil.
He falls out the other side, much to the shock of all present unspeakables. Who proceed to stun him six ways from Sunday.