Chapter 7
'How terrible it is to love something that Death can touch'
Chapter 7:
King's Cross Station was a fashionably busy area. Bustling with people who all had places to be. The fashion of London was prim and proper, those who took pride in their appearances wore three-piece suits all varying fabrics of tweed and cotton. And so when Harry swept through the station dressed in pure black, his cape glamoured to look like a long suit jacket, hair tied back with his green ribbon, his mother's pendant gleaming on his chest, not a single person batted an eyelid.
Until Cromm flew down from the rafters and took his place upon Harry's right shoulder. His loud croak drew many eyes, some appreciative, most curious, and only more eyes seemed to catch upon his person when Death decided to step in place beside him, also wearing a three piece pinstripe suit of black. Quite macabre….
His Peverell trunk was held firmly in Death's right hand, the weight of it seemingly having no effect on the entity.
"Where is the entrance to the platform Death" Gently tugging on his sleeve to catch his attention.
"Do you not remember the title of the platform little soul?"
Thinking hard Harry glanced across all the platforms in an attempt to trigger his memory. 3...4....3/4.....9
"Ah! Platform 9 & 3/4's! That's it, so we are looking between three and four....hmm perhaps it is between the wall, maybe a secret passage like the bricks in Diagon Alley?"
Death chuckled "You are clever as always little soul, it is indeed covered by bricks, you must simply run through the wall between the signs of three and four".
Making their way over to the wall, Death took a step forwards and melted through the brick.
Grumbling, Harry quickly followed too. "Why do Wizard's have such fascinations with brick walls I will never know."
The bright red locomotor on the other side was already bustling with nervous scrawny kids, plain black robes decorated with the Hogwarts emblem over their heart. Owls were jostled about in cages like livestock and Cromm gave an indignant croak, Harry, scratching the tuft on the left side of his head, soothed the raven.
Weaving through the crowds, they quietly passed a trio of bright blond heads of hair, Harry curiously looking back with expressionless eyes met cold silver of the supposed father. Bowing his head in curtesy and giving a wide macabre grin when pale brows rose, he swept away to catch up with Death who was already waiting for him at one of the carriage entrances. Death, kneeling down, clasped Harry's hand in his palms. Bestowing a slight kiss upon his knuckle he gave his biggest macabre grin, Harry immediately responding in kind.
"My dearest Death, I shall miss you, although it's not like the Hogwarts wards would ever prohibit you from entering" Giving a weak chuckle to hide the slight tremble in his words, he found himself swept up in an embrace.
"Little soul, if you find yourself in dire trouble that you cannot get out of, call me immediately, I cannot lose you, I would most definitely not enjoy having to process your soul."
Giving another chuckle, Harry found it difficult to pull away from the cold embrace, it was comforting and safe, straightening up, he took his trunk and set it onto the step of the carriage.
"Off I go Death"
"So you do little soul, have fun"
And in a bustling of cloaks around him, Death vanished from amidst the crowd.
Grabbing the handle at one end of the trunk, Harry dragged it down the isle of the carriage to the back of the train. It was quiet, all choosing to sit at the front where all the action was. Putting his trunk beneath his seat at the very end of the isle in a compartment to the right, Harry sat down and proceeded to watch the families still on the platform. The trio of blondes he noticed where saying farewell to their son who proceeded to carry his trunk, having assumingly been spelled lighter by his father. A huge family of red heads stood at one end seemingly apart from the rest, loads of children hoarding around presumably the parents, ruthlessly shoving down the rising envy he chose to pull out his Peverell Grimoire.
Not five minutes had passed before the train let out a loud whistle and the began to disembark from the station, parents waving with large white handkerchiefs and soon the window was taken up by the sights of passing houses.
Harry found himself being drawn out of reality and into the mass of information held in his Grimoire, the first section was dedicated to protection charms or runes something Harry found in very desperate need of. The book mentioned that protection runes could be written in any medium as long as the intent was there. That you could draw them on the very thing you wanted to protect for quick efficiency, but for longer term wide scale protections, it would require many different combinations of the runes in different areas of the site. Sticking to the personal and efficient protection runes Harry immersed himself in the practice, making no moves to attempt the runes just yet, after all, who would be stupid enough to try it not two hours after reading up on it.
And as the hours went by and Harry alternated between reading the Grimoire and preening Cromm, who remained in his lap on his back feet stuck in the air, the whole journey, the train had pulled to a stop. Looking out Harry could only see a dark expanse of trees from his side. And so standing up he swiftly swapped his dark robe for his Hogwarts robe and left the carriage. Lifting Cromm to his shoulder he stepped out onto the platform and into to the crowd of kids. Setting his trunk beside the pile of other trunks, he passed the loud giant bellowing about getting into the carriages to travel to the lake, and swiftly climbed the hill to where a mass of carriages stood. The carriages where pulled by skeletal horses with large leathery wings tucked into their sides, bright green eyes stared soulfully back at his. Gently petting the muzzle of the first one he smiled when it whinnied and pushed back against his hand. Climbing up into the carriage he waited for the inevitable meeting of other children when they began climbing in too.
And so he looked out of the door surprised when the first carriage began moving without waiting for the other children who were still climbing the hill. Turning his head to look at the skeletal horses he sighed.
"Aren't you supposed to wait until the carriage is full?" His reply was a light hearted whinny that made him shake his head in exasperation and sit back down.
Harry found himself waiting at the shore of the beach five minutes earlier than the other carriages, seeing the boats on the shore he decided to avoid stepping onto one in case they decided to set sail again. The carriages finally arrived and Harry found himself staring up at a confused giant.
"Youn'g boy', h'ow did ye' get up 'ere so quick'ly?" His chopped up accent was difficult to process but Harry merely stared back and frowned.
"When I stepped into the carriage, the horses had already began to move, when I told them to stop they just whinnied at me. I apologise if it caused any problems"
The fact that the horses had took off had not surprised the Keeper of the Keys named Rubeus Hagrid, no, it was the fact that the boy mentioned about the horses.
The horses had already began to move...the horses...did he mean the thestrals?" Shocked that the boy could see the thestrals, he shook his head and turned back to the children waiting in front of him.
"Al'right everyone climb inta' a boat, no more than four!" And at his command, the children scampered to the boats, some walked with repressed excitement, others with ferocity and Harry found himself sat in the boat with Hagrid.
"Sorr'y 'bout that, wasn't enou'f boats for all of ye'" Swinging his lantern he ducked under the bridge and proceeded to call out to the children at the sight of the castle.
"Sir, what were those types of horses called?" Hagrid jolted at the quiet firm voice that emanated from below him
"Ah, they're called thestrals, onl'y those who've seen death can see them"
At Hagrid's words Harry barely contained a snort, only those who've seen Death, well, since he has quite literally seen Death more than a hundred times in the span of his life he could quite confidently say he was classified to see them.
Hagrid frowned at the mysterious boy, what was his problem? And why did he feel a chill whenever those green eyes looked at him? Shaking off his thoughts, he climbed out of the boat and led the children up the path to the entrance. Not noticing that Harry had drifted to the back of the group out of prying eyes. At the top of the stairs, Hagrid knocked loudly on the impressively tall wooden doors. And not a second later did another person emerge. A lady garbed in green robes, hair tied up into a stern bun, piercing eyes assessing the group before her.
"Thank you Hagrid, that will be all" At her words the giant trundled away into the darkness. "I am glad to see that you have all arrived safely and in one piece, and since no one fell into the lake this year I would call it a success. Now welcome to Hogwarts".
At her words the other set of doors behind her opened wide to reveal The Great Hall, Harry internally noted, whilst standing off to the side of the group.
"Please keep together and wait for your names to be called for house sorting" And at that, she swept away to the top of the dais just below the teacher's table where all of the Professors sat with assessing eyes.
Immediately whispers started up.
"I heard you had to defeat a troll?" "What! That's nonsense" "My brothers told me!"
Sighing, he cast his eyes around the hall, watching the students at their house tables, as they in turn watched the group of first years with beady eyes.
The ragged hat on the stool, beside the stern woman in green, ripped a tear in its hat and began to most curiously...sing. Traits of houses, sung about to reduce the bias that was already here, something that had already began to worm its way into the students hearts by the way the red head and blond were going at each other behind him. And then it stopped, and the lady unravelled a scroll.
"HANNAH ABBOT!" She called, startling a young girl from the crowd.
Harry watched as the girl with blond pigtails walked up to the dais and sat down, only for the hat to be dropped onto her head, the overly sized hat engulfed her head obscuring her from view. But most likely to prevent embarrassment or fear of crowds. The hat then opened its mouth wide and shouted:
!HUFFLEPUFF!
Yellow threading made its way into the girl's uniform, and the Hogwarts emblem was swapped for a badger. How curious. Hogwarts a History had quite clearly mentioned the transition and he smiled at Bhatilda's perfectness.
*Of course I was a perfectionist you dolt!* Cringing internally at her shout he found himself giving a quiet giggle.
"Now now of course you were Bhatilda" Rubbing her sign absentmindedly he watched as more and more were sorted...before....
"HARRY POTTER-PEVERELL"
His name, immediately drew whispers and searching eyes to the group, and he sighed, looks like it was time to finally step out from the shadows.
Climbing the stairs with smooth controlled motions he lifted his head and stared resolutely at the hat on the other side of the hall. His robe billowed open as he walked, drawing more gasps at his outfit beneath of pure black. Black hair gleaming under the candles, green eyes flickering he kept his face expressionless.
"That's the-boy-who-lived?" "He looks so cool" He looks like a vampire" "That's really him?!""Peverell?"
Stepping up to the dais, he spun on his heal and sat down, upon the rickety stool, crossing his legs at the knee. Eyes stared at the four tables, he had everyone's attention and he refused to shift in discomfort.
The hat was set upon his head and he found his vision fall into darkness.
/Well well, Lord Potter-Peverell what a pleasant surprise, never have I sorted a disciple of Death. How curious....Such a silent personality in the company of humans, yet passionate in the dead. Yes very curious indeed.... What is this....three minds? No that isn't possible, Bhatilda Bagshot has already been sorted, I don't remember a Figg hmmm....WHAT! A soul collector, so more than just a disciple of Death. How incredible./
"Are you perhaps the Sorting Hat?"
The hat cackled startling the watching participants
/I am indeed little reaper/
"Do you have a name other than the sorting hat?"
The hat froze /Haven't been asked that in a century boy, how curious, yes I was once known as Alistair./
"Ah, Alistair is a lovely name, you should try introducing yourself as Alistair instead of the Sorting Hat, you'd become more than just an object then"
The hat cackled once more
/Little reaper you are so very sly, and smart indeed, yes you show compassion but only for your souls, I have yet to see a human be the subject of your compassion, you should work on that, ah well Gryffindor is off the table for you, you think before you jump, Ravenclaw is a no, although you have a thirst for knowledge, it isn't your main focus, it is more of a necessity than anything. Ah yes, you thirst knowledge as a necessity for your survival am I correct?/
"You are indeed Alistair, every piece of knowledge I intake, shall be for the sole purpose of survival. How will I be able to protect and deliver my precious souls to my Lord Death if I die before it?"
/You speak from your very soul Mr Potter-Peverell and so I announce you a proud member of...../
The hat opened its mouth wide and shouted:
!SLYTHERIN!
The Great Hall that had previously been buzzing with whispers fell silent. And then exploded with gasps and shouts of dismay. Standing tall and straight, Harry placed the hat tenderly on the stool, giving it a quiet pat before whispering goodbye . His head partially turned to the left he face the Headmaster. Albus Dumbledore. The man he had been so wanting to meet. At last. Giving him a heartfelt smile and a bow he spun on his heel, robes fanning out, and walked towards the Slytherin table. Varying faces of thinly veiled surprise, dismay, some anger and quite a few curious, Harry took a seat at the end of the table, closest to the teachers, back to the wall he watched the rest of the sorting. And when that ended and Headmaster Dumbledore stood for his speech and clapped for the food to appear. Harry was unable to avoid eye-contact with his housemates any more.
Green eyes flicked up to assess the boy across from him. Setting down his cutlery he wiped his mouth with his napkin, manners were important after all, before slowly raising his right hand to the boy.
"Fellow Housemate I do not know your name, but allow me to introduce myself for I am Lord Harry Potter-Peverell, and it would be a pleasure to meet your acquaintance".
The boy rose an eyebrow and his lips twitched into a smirk. Dark tousled hair cut short lay in layers of dark skin of Indian descent, complexion smooth and perfect, blue round eyes met his.
"What manners, not what I expected, it is a pleasure to meet you I am Blaise Zabini." And his hand rose to clasp Harry's. Rings glinting in the candlelight catching the eyes of the spectating Slytherins, who eyes widened in surprise at the sight of not one, but two Lord rings on Harry's hand.
Turning to look at his year mates around him he counted eleven including himself. How ironic, eleven reapers of Death, eleven first year Slytherins.
He chose not to introduce himself to the others just yet, he would wait for them to approach him or not at all. Eyes flicking up to the Head Table he met the twinkling blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore, who raised his goblet at him in a jovial manner, Harry gave a macabre grin in return before deftly raising his own goblet. Cranberry juice dripping from the right corner of his mouth in a line down his chin, he absentmindedly flicked his tongue out and cleared it up. Missing the widened eyes around him.
"You are on terms with the Headmaster?" A cold voice emerged from beside him and Harry noticed that most conversations fell silent around the table.
"I have not spoken with him yet, although I do have business with him in regards to my childhood care, and other...matters." The girl nodded primly at his answer and the conversations picked back up again.
Returning his gaze back to the Head Table he glanced across the half-goblin who was chatting with the lady garbed in green. Three other women sat at one end of the table, one in a matrons outfit, the other in plain dark robes and one in bright whites and yellows. Cringing from the sight he flicked his eyes downwards to the other end where a man wearing a turban sat. Red eyes met green and Harry's narrowed in contemplation. Red eyes that felt familiar... How curious....
Hagrid sat at the end, or more like half hanging off the end, devouring a full turkey. But the man between the two was even more curious. Power snaked around him in waves and the man wore clothes of pure black just like him. Someone who also had tastes. Dark shoulder length hair hung with a lankness, obsidian eyes sweeping across the hall in quiet assessment. Someone of either superior assassination skills or spying...better watch out for him....
Deciding to gather information Harry turned back to the blond girl beside him.
"Pardon me for not introducing myself my lady, I am Lord Harry Potter-Peverell" When the girl raised her hand he bestowed a chaste kiss upon her knuckle. Watching curiously when she flinched as he touched her.
"You are forgiven Potter, I am Daphne Greengrass, a pleasure." Nodding at her introduction he froze when a flash of black flew into the hall and circled the tables.
Raising his hand into the air the black mass flew towards him and landed quickly, withdrawing his hand to reveal a raven, the Hall broke out into whispers.
"Cromm where did you get off to? I told you not to chase the thestrals." But the raven merely croaked indignantly and began to peck at the grapes. A pale hand struck out to hit the raven mid croak, but was instantly snatched up by an ever paler hand. Disgusted eyes met frosty green.
"Get that bloody bird off the table, disgusting, do you have any manners?" The whiny voice of Draco Malfoy hit Harry's ears, drawing his eyes to the owner of the head of pale blond hair.
A cold crisp voice responded "Manners?" Gripping the wrist tighter he turned from his straight backed position to the boy diagonal from him. "You dare lecture me on manners when you clearly lack decorum reaching over the table like that, Miss Greengrass's plate has been covered by your now stained tie. So kindly sit yourself back down on your seat" But pale hands gripped harder before the boy could hastily withdrawal.
"And kindly refrain from making a grab at my familiar the next time hmmm... Cromm won't let it slide a second time and so will I." At the mention of his name the raven flew to Harry's shoulder and croaked the words: "Pitiful!" "Pitiful!"
Have grinned and watched as the boy sat down, before he phrased his next words carefully.
"Now I am most certainly welcome to forgetting about this incident, after all, it is common for owls to land on the table during breakfast to deliver mail. And so surely my familiar can also slide since he likes to occasionally deliver letters." The pale boy hesitantly nodded
"Excellent, my name is Lord Harry Potter Peverell, it would be a pleasure to get to know you" The boy seemed to lose his tension and gave a tentative smirk before taking the hand held out towards him.
"I am Draco Lucius Malfoy, it's a pleasure to meet you"
And dispute settled peacefully.
Whipping out his pocket watch he watched as the crooked handle hit 10:00.
"My my it is already this late, the dead will be rising by the time I finally get into bed." Chuckling when frowns were met at his words he ignored it and turned back to Greengrass
"Say Miss Greengrass, who is that dark professor next to Hagrid" At her shocked stare he made a confused tilt to his head
"That is Professor Severus Snape, he is Slytherin's Head of House, he is also the resident Potions Master, youngest in a century I believe." Harry's body froze in shock. Staring at the dark professor, not believing he had hit the jackpot without even needing to find it. The mysterious boy with his mother under the oak tree. It was him. It was him.
"So that is Severus Snapey Snape" At his quiet mutterings, several eavesdroppers choked in their goblets non-subtly.
"Snapey snape? That is not his middle name. You have the audacity to say that"
Chuckling Harry waved his hand "I meant no offense by the name, his name is of simple importance to me that is all". And finally Dumbledore stood to send the students off with their assigned group prefects.
Harry took his time, and followed behind the group of Slytherins, Cromm croaking on his shoulder.
*Never thought you'd become a Slytherin, but the way the hat explained it actually made sense* Chuckling at Bhatilda's disgruntled voice he soothed her symbol
Murmuring quietly he responded "My dear Bhatilda when has survival ever not been at the top of my list?" And he could help but giggle at her silence.
Eventually the crowd stopped in the dungeons, where it was colder and Harry found himself pressing his palms against the cold walls, the coldness was always a comfort to him and he almost dozed off until he heard the prefects shout of the password which was: Salazaar.
And then the portrait swung aside, and the entrance to the Slytherin Dungeons was revealed.