Traverse Through the First Year

Harry yawned as Ron dragged him up the stairs, his excited voice the only thing stopping him from sleeping right then and there. 

“Dumbledore said that we could experience a gruesome death, Harry! Aren’t you curious at all?” 

“It’s not like anything could kill me...” His muttering fell on deaf ears as Ron looked around. 

“Harry... Where exactly are we?” Ron sighed as he stared at the ceiling, “I knew I shouldn’t have trusted the twins after they lied about fighting a troll.” 

Harry leaned against Ron’s tall back, his magic sending comfort to the freckled boy. “I believe... we’re on the third-floor corridor. My, my, Ronald. Are you perhaps feeling adventurous?” 

A cat meowed in front of them as they stopped walking. 

“Hello Mrs. Norris, we really aren’t trespassing right now. Can you tell us how to reach Professor McGonagall’s office? It appears my friend got us turned around.” 

The cat flicked her tail and jumped behind them, looking back to see if they were following. 

“Thank you, fine lady.” 

Ron shook his head at Harry’s speech, not entirely believing they were following a cat. 

“We’re doing this for your own good Ron. I doubt you wish to deal with your mother complaining about your grades.” 

“Doesn’t mean I have to like this. The only reason I agreed is because your glare is somehow scarier than hers.” 

“I did raise children before.” Harry leaned against him in amusement, the other boy’s face of disbelief evident. 

A raspy voice echoed throughout the hall, “Mrs. Norris! Where did you go, sweetie?” 

The cat meowed again as she rubbed her body against Harry’s legs, once the old man came into view. 

“Mrs. Norris! What are you doing with these scoundrels? Were they trying to enter the forbidden corridor? Oh, students being naughty is a delightful gift, my dear.” 

“Oh no, it’s Filch. He’s the caretaker and takes any chance to get students in trouble.” Ron’s voice trailed off as they came face to face with the old man. 

The cat meow indignantly as she jumped into Harry’s arms. 

“They’re not naughty? Mrs. Norris, have they fed you anything strange? Why are you in that boy’s arms? Come to me now, love.” 

The cat turned her head away from his opened hands. 

“Now, now. He doesn’t mean anything harmful, go back to him.” Harry held her out towards the old caretaker, smiling at the bright soul of the feline. 

“Hm, perhaps this one isn’t so bad. Is he, Mrs. Norris? No, we’ll leave this one alone for now.” The man stalked off, carrying the cat with him. 

“You have the strangest effect on things, Harry.” 

“It’s a talent.” 

“I hate the fact that you may be telling the truth.” 

“Suffer.” 

Professor McGonagall graded her papers as the two of them sat across from her. Minutes ticked into an hour before she finally finished her work and focused on the students in front of her. 

“What can I do for you Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley?” 

Harry sat in silence, allowing the magic in the room to soothe him. 

“We wanted to start a study group. Anyone would be allowed to join, but we were hoping to use one of the abandoned classrooms and we need permission from a professor to start any sort of club thing...” Ron trailed off awkwardly, not expecting to be the one talking. 

“You, Mr. Weasley, wish to start a study group?” Professor McGonagall’s eyebrows raised in surprise. 

“Well, Harry is the one wanting it. Something about knowing that I would put it off...” Ron avoided looking at her as his cheeks reddened. 

“I suppose. Your mother and father did the same thing when they were here as well, Mr. Potter.” Her eyes were soft as she glanced at him. 

“Is that so?” Harry yawned while leaning against Ron as sleep called his name. 

“Yes... well, I’ll send a note along with which classroom will be cleared for use.” The stern Gryffindor turned her eyes back to her paperwork, dismissing them. 

“That went better than I thought it would.” 

“Most adults are reasonable, Ronald. Carry me back to my dorms.” 

“...Am I simply a carriage to you?” 

Silence filled the corridor as Ron carried him back to the Slytherin common rooms. 

Harry laid against Draco as Professor McGonagall explained transfiguration to the class. His body couldn’t decide if it wanted to sleep or not. It wasn’t used to the amount he spent asleep yet. 

“Mr. Potter, since you seem to know what I’m already talking about, please turn this match into a needle.” 

Harry barely glanced at her as the match was soon replaced by a silver needle. 

“Death gave me harder work when I first started learning from him. Was he simply strict back then...” His muttering caused the woman to pale. 

“Ten... Ten points to Slytherin... Please pay attention in the future, Mr. Potter.” Her voice shook slightly as she turned her attention back to the rest of the class. 

Draco poked his side, rousing him from his half-asleep state. 

“Potter, show me how to do that.” 

“Listen to the professor, she’s already teaching you it.” 

“Not how you did it, though. How did you turn it into a needle without even looking at it?” Draco’s voice whined as he poked his finger against Harry’s head. 

“Is it truly that desirable to be able to do what I can?” 

“How is it not? Power is something everyone desires.” 

“No... Not everyone wants it.” Harry closed his eyes again, a wave of confusion feeling thick at the back of his tongue. 

“Master...” Death’s voice brushed against his ears, “I do believe that is my job.” 

Harry hummed as Draco fed him at the Slytherin table. He was originally going to sit at the Gryffindor table, but his housemate refused to sit anywhere besides his dorm’s table. 

“It’s not proper, Potter.” 

Harry then dragged his Gryffindor companions to sit with them. 

He hummed as Neville glanced nervously at the surrounding Slytherins. 

“Harry... I don’t think...” His voice, soft as always, snagged his attention. “Maybe we should sit at our table tomorrow.” 

“Sure, we’ll sit there tomorrow.” 

Harry’s nonchalant response caused many of the students around them to frown. They didn’t know how to act around him since he showed Draco the solar system the other night. The blond kept complaining that it wasn’t fair how he didn’t get to see it on the train. 

The other Slytherins soon wrote to their parents, asking for advice on how to handle the situation. Amusing they thought that another being could handle him, Death barely could on a good day.

How unlucky of Death to be missing double potions with the Gryffindors. 

“Master, please hire a lawyer to do this. I’m begging you; I need to witness this.” 

“I left you in charge of it, Death. I didn’t say you need to carry it out yourself.” 

“...I blame you for this bout of foolishness that has become of me.” 

“You did this to yourself and you know it.” 

A hoot brought him out of his musing as Hedwig landed in front of him. 

“Hello, lovely. Are you hungry?” 

Harry pushed his plate towards the snowy owl as he read the note that was gripped in her claws. 

Dear Harry, 

I know you have Friday afternoons off and wanted to invite you for a cup of tea around three. Also, warn a bloke before you change appearances like that. I didn’t recognize ya. Send an answer back with Hedwig.

Hagrid 

Hagrid... Hagrid... Did he know a Hagrid? 

The letter bearer. 

Ah, he vaguely remembered now. 

“Are you going? I’d be more than happy to escort you, Potter.” Draco pushed Harry’s plate back towards him as the owl hooted in indignation. 

“She wasn’t done, Draco.” Harry ran his fingers over Hedwig’s feathers, muttering an apology. “I suppose I will, though. There’s no reason not to.” 

“Oi! If ‘arry’s going, then we ar’ too.” Ron’s voice was slightly muffled by the food in his mouth, “Us Gryffin’ors have to ma’e sure you don’ com’pl’ly ta’e ‘im o’er” 

“Honestly, Ronald. Chew your food before speaking.” Hermione was quick to scold his manners, “If Harry wishes for us to go, then I’m sure he will ask us.” 

“Only if you want us to, Harry...” Neville glanced to each side, avoiding the eyes of the students around them. 

“I don’t mind. Less walking for me.” 

Hermione glared at his words, disapproving of his inactivity. 

He smiled softly as he latched onto Draco’s back, having the stormy-eyed blond carry him to class this time. 

“How horrid, double potions with Snape. The twins said that he eats the children who fail his class.” 

“Professor Snape, Ronald. I doubt he’d be a teacher here if he ate children.” 

Neville hid behind Hermione, staring at the freckled boy nervously. “Yeah... right?” 

Harry focused on the heavy breathing of the eleven-year-old carrying him, his eyes fixed on the strands of light hair swaying at the back of his neck. His lips quirked into a smirk as he blew at the blond's nape, snorting at the squeal of surprise that left the boy’s lips. 

“My father will hear about this, Potter!” 

“He’d like me.” 

“No offense towards you Malfoy, but Malfoy senior doesn’t like anybody. Dad always complains that he blocks everyone off every chance he gets unless it somehow benefits him.” 

“I would complain, but I have a hellspawn that seems to enjoy messing with me, knowing full well that I will be the one who feels bad if he falls.” 

“Suffer.” Harry smiled as the group of children giggled. 

He wondered how long he could nap during this class. 

Hermione ended up being the one sitting next to him. The boys were too busy glaring at each other to take the spot before anyone else. 

Harry leaned against her arm; her warmth more comfortable than the table.

He yawned as the professor burst through the door with long strides, his robe flowing behind him like a cape. 

“There will be no fancy wand-waving or incantations. You are here to learn the fine art of brewing potions. Some of you will excel at this subject, bringing honor to your name.” His dark eyes scanned the Slytherin’s side of the room, looking at each student before his eyes landed on Draco, who was sitting on the Gryffindor’s side. His speech paused for only a second, before continuing once again. 

“Most of you, however, will be less adept and fail at the subtly that is required for this class.” His eyes strayed to Harry. Dark pupils masked any emotion that he may be feeling, but the confusion was evident in Harry’s mouth. 

“Mr. Potter! Since you deem yourself above staying awake to learn, then you should know what you would get if you added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood.” 

Her death wasn’t his fault... 

“A very regrettable death...” His softly spoken words caused the man to pale. 

“Pardon me, Mr. Potter...” 

“Ah, sorry. You meant the potion. You’d get a sleep so deep that Death likes to watch. He enjoys seeing the life on the balance of joining the afterlife.” 

Hermione’s arm, which was hanging in the air, slowly brought itself down. Her fingers twitched at his words. 

“...and where would you find a bezoar?” The professor’s voice was quiet, like a snake waiting for an unexpecting prey. 

“You have to quickly gouge the stomach of a goat and dig through its organs. Hopefully, the poison doesn’t get to you beforehand, though I guess that would be entertaining if it did.” 

A drop of sweat could be heard in the classroom. The silence overbearing in the wake of Harry’s answers. 

“Well, why aren’t any of you writing this down?” The dour man’s voice snapped at all of them as he turned back towards the board. 

“Harry, why do you always talk about death?” Hermione’s voice broke through the silence the group settled in as they walked towards Hagrid’s hut. 

“He’s always with me, so it would be strange to not talk about him.” 

“But... death isn’t a person, Harry...” Neville hid his face from Harry’s view. 

“Don’t be silly, Neville. Of course, he isn’t a person. People can die, but Death won’t. He promised to never leave me, after all.” 

The other four shared a look as Ron carried Harry. Their eyes agreed to talk about it later. 

“Hagrid, I have come to grace you with my presence!” Harry declared as the rest of them refused to take the initiative and knock on the door. 

Hagrid greeted them and ushered them inside, away from the cold. 

“Master, will you not tell them?” 

“You can do it. It’s too bothersome to explain all of it.” 

“Ah... I wonder if they’ll prove themselves worthy of such knowledge.” 

Harry made a bee-line towards the giant dog, immediately petting him and ultimately ignoring the rest of the humans in the hut. 

“Hi, Mr. Hagrid. I’m Hermione Granger, this is Neville Longbottom and Ronald Weasley.” Hermione gestured towards the boys with red ties. “We’re Harry’s Gryffindor friends. This is—” 

“I can introduce myself just fine, Granger.” Draco snarked beside her, “I’m Draco, Draco Malfoy. Potter’s best friend.” 

Ron snorted behind him, “No way you’re his best friend. You still call him ‘Potter’. If anything, I’m his best friend since I met him first.” 

“Death’s my best friend.” 

Hagrid stared at the children who ignored Harry’s words and argued amongst themselves. 

“Well, I was worrie’ but it seems yer doin’ well in Slytherin’. I was concern’ that they woul’ bully ye, but ye got yerself some nice friends here.” Hagrid eyed Draco for a few seconds before setting up the refreshments. 

“Oh hey, someone broke into Gringotts. Harry, it happened on your birthday too!” Ron’s voice broke through the awkward silence as he looked through Hagrid’s papers. 

“You shouldn’t look through others’ belongings, Ronald.” Hermione quickly chided him, but also looked at the paper curiously. 

“Now, don’ you worry yerselves about that. That was official Ho’warts business, that was.” 

Harry hummed, sitting on Neville’s lap as the shy boy handed him a scone. 

“It has nothing to do with me.” 

“You have no sense of adventure, Harry. No wonder you were sorted into Slytherin.” 

“It’s called survival instincts, Weasley.” Draco threw a piece of his bread at the red-haired boy, “Smart people have it, and listen to it, unlike some apparently.” 

“Oi!” 

It wasn’t that he didn’t have a sense of adventure, nor was he scared of the risk that came from this one, it was simply too boring. His adventures with Death involved the risk of losing one’s existence instead of just dying, after all. 

Harry dreamed of the time he destroyed magic. It was during the years he was most depressed about being unable to die. 

His thoughts had turned to blame anything he could, hoping to destroy whatever cursed him to be trapped in the realm of the living. Magic wasn’t the first thing he blamed, nor was it the last, but it was the most memorable to him and Death. 

Past Harry figured that since magic was the origin of the story that made him Master of Death, then getting rid of it would get rid of the shackles. 

Death tried to reason with him, explaining that even without magic death would still exist. His past self ignored it, however, and went to the very core of the world. He tore magic from it, damaging the very life of that timeline. 

He took magic from every being and life force. He felt that he could live a normal life now that magic could no longer lock him to Death. 

He was very wrong. 

The first thing to start to deteriorate was the plant life, they could no longer hold on to life as their connection to the planet was cut off. After that, humans soon lost their minds and their souls lost their way. The tethers that held them to their plane of existence were cut off and they could no longer follow their flow of natural cycle. 

Eventually, everything was dead and hollow. He was alone in a grey world. Death stood next to him as he stared at a small caterpillar struggling to hold on. 

“...reset it.” He whispered, finally forced to realize that he only caused the end of lives instead of releasing his chains. 

“Unfortunately, this was the fate of this world. It cannot be reset.” Death’s voice attempted to soothe the turmoil of his emotions. 

“I see.” 

He left that world as it was written off the records of fate. 

It was a Sunday afternoon as the five of them were gathered in a classroom, Hermione lecturing the other three boys with Draco throwing out a few pointers as well. 

Harry was dozing in a corner as they studied, content to let them find their own paths of magic. 

“Harry.” 

His eyes were forced to open as someone shook him awake. 

“The headmaster sent for you,” Hermione nodded her head towards the door where an older student stood. “Would you like us to go with you?” 

“No need. I have an idea of what he wants.” 

Harry followed the older female as she led him to a pair of gargoyles, muttering the password and sending him up. 

“Ah, young Harry. I was expecting you, my boy.” An elderly smile greeted him as he sat across from the desk. 

The room was filled with odd trinkets here and there, mostly old tombs and portraits that had lingering imprints of souls. A phoenix greeted him with a soft trill as the older wizard sat at his desk. 

They sat in silence, one listening to a phoenix and the other studying the student under his care. 

“Are you not worried about why I called you here?” 

“Should I be?” 

The headmaster laughed softly, “No. One should not be worried if they have done nothing wrong, should they?” 

“I suppose, but there’s a flaw in that way of thinking.” Harry disagreed. 

“Oh?” 

“Simply because you have done nothing wrong doesn’t mean that others will not seek to harm you, nor does it mean that misunderstandings cannot happen. However, it’s natural to think that no one will hurt you because you haven’t done anything.” 

“Is it truly so cut and dry? I believe that there are people who won’t harm others for the sake of it, there is always good out there.” 

“I didn’t say there wasn’t.” Harry’s sharp eyes focused on the grey-haired wizard. It was naïve to believe that there were only so few options humans would take. 

“No, you didn’t.” The headmaster nodded his head as his eyes shined with wisdom, “Do you know why I called you here then?” 

“Yes.” 

Does he think us fools? 

Harry turned his attention away from the old wizard, his eyes trained on the phoenix that flew over to him. 

“Many teachers and staff have come to me with concerns, my boy.” Blue eyes watched his interaction with the mythical creature. 

Phoenixes were always one of his favorites. They were souls that stayed the same throughout their reincarnations, and they never committed a crime against the heavens. It was completely against their very nature to do such acts. 

“They’ve told me that you sometimes talk to yourself, referring to someone called Death, and even sleeping in every class.” The professor’s tone turned serious as he listed out the complaints, “Hagrid has also told me that your appearance has drastically changed over the month he didn’t see you.” 

“I’m not talking to myself. Death can’t be heard with his natural voice, it would drive the human mind insane to hear a being that whispers knowledge that the consciousness cannot accept.” 

“Young Harry, we’re concerned for your health. I was hoping you would agree to join me on a trip to Madam Pomfrey and the bank.” 

“I don’t mind, but if it’s my mental health you’re concerned for then I can just introduce you to him. You’ve met him before, so it shouldn’t be too much of a surprise.” 

Hasn’t happened yet. 

“I have met Death?” 

Harry tilted his head, “Ah... that hasn’t been done yet. Well, I can still introduce you to him. He’d like to talk to someone else; he gets bored easily.” 

“Oh, is it time master? Can I come out now? I’m coming out now!” 

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, his eyes staring into green ones over his glasses. Death leaned in behind him, his breath ghosting over the elder’s ears. 

“Hello.” His voice dragged out the ‘o’, finding delight in the surprise that crossed the old man’s face. 

“Death.” 

“Yes, yes. Come here, master.” 

Death picked his young master up, holding him as the child fell asleep. The body he inhabited wasn’t able to withstand the amount of power that was thrust into it without notice. He’d have to fix that soon. 

“Well now, I do believe master has introduced me already. I, of course, already know who you are.” 

The blue-eyed wizard stared at him, not sure what to make of him. 

“He has called you... Death, yes. There lies a problem that I do not believe you are who you claim to be, however.” The man’s magic lashed out, careful not to touch the young boy that lay in its opponent's arms, “I have prioritized many things above visiting young Harry, believing his relatives would keep him safe from any unsavory individuals as any decent people would. It appears that I was severely mistaken if they allowed him to be deceived by you.” 

“Oh~” Death smiled as the wizard drew his wand, “Those relatives that he had were not decent folks, that part you have correct. However, I would never deceive my master. I can prove I am Death if you so wish.” 

“Very well, I will allow you a single chance.” Dumbledore’s eyes were cold as he tried to assess how he could get the young boy away from the intruder’s hold. 

“It’s very simple, that wand won’t work against me.” 

The old man blinked as the tension in the room sizzled out before it could engulf them. 

“The wand...” Albus’ voice fell as realization sunk in, “You called him master.” 

“It was you who allowed him to grace that position, I have to thank you in the future.” 

“I did...” 

“Hm, I should leave the rest to my master, he’s gotten far too reliant on others explaining for him.” Death tapped his chin, “What to do? Ah, he’d be upset I left it to him. Very well, sit down. The task of explaining is mine.” 

The headmaster stroked Fawkes, his phoenix companion, as Death left his office, his words leaving a ringing in his head. 

He failed that child in the future, or would it be considered the past? 

Perhaps, he shall follow a different choice this time. Starting with a wronged soul. 

“Harry, what should I do? The headmaster called me to his office.” Ronald Weasley’s voice whined in his ear during breakfast. “Why does he want to see me? What if he writes to my mum?” 

“I think you’ll be fine. Probably.” Harry glanced at the pale boy, “Well, you’ll still be alive tomorrow.” 

“What’s this we hear?” Fred popped in from the left of Ron, “Ronniekins has been summoned to the headmaster’s office?” George appeared on his right. 

“He’s been asked to testify against the pranks you’ve set against the student body, they already asked me to.” He’ll help his friend out this time, “That’s why I was called up yesterday. Didn’t you know?” 

Harry kept his face neutral as the twins look flabbergasted. 

“Ron,” Fred started, “You’ve always been our favorite brother.” George continued, “You know that, right?” 

Harry snorted at the panic that was evident in their voice. Two sets of brown eyes widened as they looked at him in surprise. 

“You... You pranked us!” They accused. 

“And you attempted to tease Ron. Fair’s fair, is it not?” Harry leaned back against Draco as the blond glared at the older Weasleys. 

“This is war!” They declared as they left through the great hall doors. 

“Is that really why I’m being called?” 

“Honestly Ronald.” Hermione’s sigh voiced all of their complaints at his comment. 

Harry hummed a tune as he descended the stairs. His friends were all busy doing other things. Draco was asked to meet his father, Hermione needed to study since she neglected to when she went to Hagrid’s, Ron was called to the headmasters, and Neville needed to write to his gran. 

He was left alone, which left him unguarded. He forgot one of the rules Slytherin’s abided by, they were there for a reason after all.