Chapter Text
Finally, Harry had finished his Mastery in Defense against the Dark Arts. He had been lucky to be able to take tests and shorten his Apprenticeship accordingly, otherwise, he wouldn’t hold his certificate on his 19th Birthday.
“I am back!”, he shouted while discarding his shoes. It had taken a lot of time renovating Grimmauld Place, but now it looked way friendlier and Ron, Hermione and he were living here together.
Harry shrugged as no one answered and went into the kitchen where he stopped in the door frame, smiling. So Hermione hadn’t forgotten. He took another step.
Happy Birthday was written in bright green Letters on a chocolate strawberry cake.
“Hermione, are you here?”, he shouted again. “You are the best”, he murmured to himself. He knew how busy she was with her double Master in Transfiguration and Charms, but she had still taken the time to bake a cake.
He looked around to see if she had pinned a note somewhere. Maybe she had forgotten to bring something? But there was a wrapped gift next to the sweet, so this wasn’t it. She would have told him, if she had only had time to drop those things, so she’ll be back. Maybe she was meeting up with Ron to come together.
“I’ll just try a tiny piece before I wait for the others.” He grabbed a fork to spear a nice mouthful of cake and ate it. Mmh. Rich chocolate sweetness paired with the typical sourness of fruit mixed on his tongue amazingly. Delicious.
Harry immediately took a second helping and was so concentrated on the flavor that the fiery pain shooting up his spine was a surprise.
“What?” The fork fell from his fingers and he tried to turn but it hurt too much. His back was hot and seemed to pulsate. Warm blood stuck his shirt to his skin.
A strong arm took hold of his shoulder while the other pressed the knife deeper.
Harry felt like electrocuted and his whole body jerked.
“Why should you get everything?”, Ron hissed angrily. “Why always you?” He twisted the knife and the pain spiked even more. “Hermione even took the time to bake your cake but my game wasn’t important enough to attend. She has so much to do, but a cake! For important Harry bloody Potter.” He pulled back just to stab again.
Harry wanted to shout. It hurt! But he couldn’t. As he opened his mouth, only a wheeze came out. Still, he tried to struggle.
His muscles cramped, fire shooting up his back. Not a chance.
Harry wanted to plead with his long time friend. If he brought him to St. Mungos now they could still forget the incident. Again he opened his mouth, but he needed his whole concentration just to suck in another breath.
His breathing sounded strange. Rattling.
It hurt so much. His lungs didn’t want to expand.
Harry coughed. Wet. Blood.
His next breath felt wet too. It was difficult to breath. He felt as if he was drowning. Wet. Why was he breathing water? His blood. He gargled.
Harry tried to support himself on the table, but his arms broke away and Ron let go of him. He hit the edge of the wood, the pain intensified.
He fell to the side hitting the floor and Ron turned him over, so he stared up at him. Into his eyes. But he couldn’t see anything. His vision grew darker. Dark spots closed in as he choked on his blood.
Ron just stood there.
How could it end like that?
Everything went black only the pain accompanying him for a moment longer.
With a gasp Harry shot up. His wide eyes looked around but he wasn’t in his bedroom. He was…
Carefully he turned around. He wasn’t anywhere he could recognize.
“You are here for the first time – kind of”, a voice answered and he jumped. It had seemed like he was alone. “In the Inbetween you will never be alone, Master”, the voice chuckled. “I will always be there with you.”
“Show yourself!”
A cloaked shadow materialized in front of him. “Welcome. I wanted to meet you for a long time.”
“Where am I?” Harry stood up because he didn’t want to feel even more vulnerable than he did and was surprised that nothing hurt.
“Of course not”, the shadow chuckled again. “In death nothing will hurt ever again.” He opened his arms wide. “Can’t say the same for the way you’ll end up here.”
“Funny”, growled Harry. “You didn’t answer my question!” Maybe it wasn’t wise to anger this entity, but he had just been murdered by his best friend for eight years, so he was allowed to be a bit grumpy.
“Of course”, the voice answered his thoughts again. “You are in the Inbetween.”
“You already said that.”
“And I was coming to the explanation before you interrupted me so rudely”, the shadow waited, to see if he wanted to say anything else, but Harry made an impatient hand gesture to get on with it. “Thank you.” It even sounded sarcastic. “As I was saying: you are between life and death, so this space is called Inbetween.”
“In between?”
“Yes. Like when you go from the kitchen to the corridor you are for a second between kitchen and corridor in same parts.”
“So I am stuck?”
“Oh no, Master”, it chuckled again. “You have all the options you want.”
“Why are you calling me Master?” Harry asked, shuddering slightly. He didn’t want to be the Master of anything – well, anything other than his Defense against the Dark Arts Mastery. Focus, Harry!
“You see”, it sat down on a suddenly materializing armchair. “That is why you are my Master.” With an elaborate gesture of its shadowy arm it invited him to sit, too. “You collected all my Hallows.”
“You are Death?”, Harry gasped and jumped up again.
“Why, yes”, Harry got the feeling Death grinned under its hood. “I am happy to make your acquaintance.” And just like that he shook hands with Death. For that amount of shadow, Death’s handshake was surprisingly firm and warm. Harry shook his head in disbelief. He had to be hallucinating.
“As I was saying”, Death continued as soon as Harry sat again. “To collect them is not enough. You need to be ready to face death. Unafraid.” It thought for a moment. “Well, maybe afraid but ready to face me anyway.” It nodded. “And you have to be uninterested.”
What the hell?
Death laughed and it was such a weird sound Harry just couldn’t process it.
“Yes. If you are greedy, if you want to dominate others, if you want to hide from me, or anything else, then it won’t work. You could have all Hallows in your possession for centuries and it still wouldn’t make you the master of anything.”
“What does that mean for me?”
“You, my dear Master”, it really seemed to like calling Harry that, “are so exceptional.”
Doesn’t answer my question.
“You can go back”, Death said with a sigh, seemingly sad that Harry wanted to come straight to the point. “But I wouldn’t recommend it.” It held up its hand to stall any question. “Your body would hurt like a bitch forever, even if I could help you heal without even leaving a scar.” Harry reeled from hearing Death swear. “I get very seldom the chance to do that”, it nodded. “But anyway. Ron knows you died and that won’t change, even though he already fled the scene.”
“You mean my kitchen”, Harry said dryly.
“However you want to call it”, Death grinned, he was sure it grinned, he just felt it. “But Hermione will find you before you could go back, so even she would know you had died.” Harry grimaced. There wasn’t any possible excuse that could explain that, so better not to let that happen. And after everything with Voldemort, this whole undead-thing wouldn’t look good.
“I don’t want her to get that trauma on top of everything.”
“Oh, little Master”, Death sounded amazed. “Always thinking about others.”
“Of course!”, he sounded indignant. “She was my best friend since forever and rescued my arse many times since.”
“I know, I know”, it placated. “If you wish to not go back I will stop that time frame right now and she’ll never know what happened.”
“I would be thankful.”
“No worries.” Death plopped away for a second before materializing again. “So for your options.” It steepled its fingers in front of it. “You can go back in time to anywhere you like. You could see Hogwarts being built for yourself.” Harry thought about it and as amazing as it sounded, seeing how Hogwarts came to be, he knew that it hand’t been happy times. He wasn’t ready for witch hunting and swords. “You can go back to Riddle’s time and steer him onto the right path.”
“I would like to go back to my parents time.”
“Oh?”
“Yes”, Harry thought about it but this decision just seemed to feel right. “I think I’d like the chance to get to know them.”
“You know that your imagination may not match who they were.” Did Death sound concerned? Harry smiled slightly.
“I know. Everything I saw in Severus’ memories… I would really like to believe it was something fabricated, but, well”, he shrugged. “But I think I’d like the chance nonetheless.”
“Do you want to go to school with them?”
“I could start teaching them?”
Death chuckled. “You did just finish your Mastery. I understand.” It extended its hand and Harry took it. “You will be Harry Peverell, if that’s okay with you.”
“I would be delighted.”
“I will erase your scars and brighten your hair?”
“Oh, and could you fix my eyes?” And with a snap Harry didn’t need glasses anymore. Amazing!
“Your birth will be still the 31. July, but in the year 1958. I’ll put you down on your birthday in 1977. Your paperwork will be ready. Have fun.”
And with that, everything went black again. His last thought was, that Death could have talked about the details some more.