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The forest was dark all around him. The spirits of his loved ones had left by now; now there were only he and the Death Eaters.
There was only him and his death, it felt like.
He heard the words in the by now familiar voice and closed his eyes, resigning himself to his end.
That is when he remembered the story for the third time in his life.
Harry had been just a kid when he'd heard it the first and last time.
Harry sat alone in the park.
There were families and other people around, but he was alone. That was familiar by now. The Dursleys had made it certain people wouldn't like to play with him.
That's why he was so surprised when someone spoke to him that sunny day.
"Can i sit here?" they asked, and Harry turned to look.
It was a small child, like himself, but he couldn't really tell if they were a girl or a boy at first glance. Their features were androgynous and their clothes in neutral colors.
He nodded, and the person sat down, smiling at him.
"Want to hear a story?" they asked, eyes glinting numerous colours in the sunlight, not bothering on niceties.
Harry didn't mind. He'd take the story over sitting alone in silence any day, so he nodded. The person smiled wider.
Thus they started on their story.
"Once upon a time, there was a girl who failed everything she set out to accomplish."
Harry fidgeted a little, thinking the story sounded really dark. The person looked at him like they knew what he was thinking, but went on without a pause.
"When she was little, there was a pretty field of flowers near their house, and she wanted some to make a pretty crown for herself, like the other girls had done at school. She left her house, happily skipping towards the nearby field with a little basket. When she got there, the field was gone. The town had sold the land to a couple, who were now building their house on the spot where the little girl's flowers had been just earlier in the day. There was not a single flower left for her crown. She looked upon the turned-up ground before turning around and returning home with tears in her eyes."
Harry was first reminded of the story when Sirius died.
Fifth year had been awful in all the ways, but the end had triumphed over it easily.
Sirius was dead, and it was his fault.
Harry had tried his hardest to save Sirius, his godfather, his family, but he'd failed at that masterfully.
When grieving and raging in the Headmaster's office, he couldn't help but be reminded of the story where a girl failed everything she set out to do.
He was no girl, but the story could have easily been about his life. He failed everyone he cared about. How many times had Ron and Hermione been hurt when he failed to do something? And now Sirius was..
He screamed his pain out and crashed the trinkets, all the while tears burned at his eyes.
In the growing despair and haze it brought upon his mind, he soon also forgot about the story.
"The years went by and the girl still failed everything she set out to accomplish. There were moments when things were nice and lovely, but the moment she tried to do something, it didn't work out. Eventually, she was discouraged from trying again, and decided to just live her life as it came and take what it granted. Sometimes, there were moments when people tried to persuade her to just try, once again. It cannot hurt you. But it did, when she failed every time, without fault. When she tried to make friends, she remained alone. When she tried to do well in school, she failed. No matter how she tried to stop trying, she always did, only to be met by failure."
Harry was starting to doubt if this had been a good idea at all. Perhaps Dudley had set them out to tell him a nasty story?
"With enough wishes denied, with enough failures behind her, the girl started losing her will to live. She started to wish for Death. -- You know how the story goes by now, don't you child?"
They asked him, and Harry's thoughts skidded to a halt.
He did know.
Everything she set out to do she --- Oh...
The second time Harry remembered the story was when they went to see Mr. Lovegood for information.
It had once again been a rough year, but this time, he wasn't wallowing in despair; he was reminded because of Death.
The story of the Three Brothers had a character Death in it. He'd rarely ever heard stories like that, even in the muggle world. This was mostly because the Dursleys never told him stories, or let him read them, or watch them--. He hadn't heard that many stories before.
In this story, the brothers were tricked, or cursed. It depended on how one looked at it. But Death had come for them all, the ways had only been different.
It was also quite a silly notion to think Death could have a Master.
No.
He didn't believe in that part of the story.
The one about the girl, on the other hand, where Death---
They smiled at him again, before continuing on.
"She wanted her suffering to end, and so she set out to make it end by taking her own life. Death wouldn't be so hurtful, now would it? she thought to herself. But when when she tied a noose around her neck and set about to fall, the rope snapped. When she tried to jump of a building, her fall was softened. When she tried to bleed herself out, her skin wouldn't tear. Her curse was unbroken, and so she failed to die. Ever more broken herself, the girl cried at her misfortune, inconsolable."
Harry sat stock-still, not feeling the warm sun on his skin anymore, his eyes upon the child telling him a story.
"That was when Death came to her, having felt her attempts to call on him. She was shocked to see them, knowing instantly who they were. Death talked to her, asking what was wrong. She told him, still sobbing and so so sad.
Death thought for a moment before saying: All beings die someday.
To be able to die, they have to first live.
As I am Death, there is Life and we exist in harmony as friends. Not many people can see me during their life, Life themselves being one of the rare few.
Despite always failing, you had the courage to try again and again until you were all alone. And now trying has given you an opportunity to meet me without dying.
As I said, all beings die eventually. Life is starting to pass on, their time coming to an end, which means my friend will die and leave their post as Life. There needs to be a successor for her. Someone who balances me out, someone to be my friend.
Are you worthy, child?
Are you worthy to be my new friend?
The girl took a moment to think, before she answered--"
---
When the story ended, Harry didn't know what to think. He sat there, thinking fast and hard over what he'd heard.
The storyteller smiled at him and asked lightly, their head tipped to the side curiously:
"Did you like it?"
Harry met their eyes again, swallowing.
"I-- it was different", he finally replied, thoughts still tripping over each other.
"Different is a nice change of pace, isn't it?" they mused, leaning back in the sun.
They sat there for awhile, until Harry was through thinking and turned to thank them for the story - he never got the chance.
"Are you worthy, child?"
They asked him, seriously, gaze heavy on him and past mood changed into something almost solemn.
He didn't know how to answer.
Accepting that as their answer after a while more of silence, they stood up, dusting off their pants before smiling down at him once again.
"Until the next time, then",
they told him before happily skipping off.
Opening his eyes after dying didn't feel like that much of a surprise (even though it was) after having remembered the story just before he was sure he'd die, when he'd resigned himself to walking into his death.
Meeting Dumbledore was a surprise, but a mostly pleasant one. He told Harry he had a choice.
That was when he also heard the question whispered to him in the stillness of the station. Dumbledore's back was becoming smaller and smaller in the distance where he'd walked off.
Are you worthy, child?
Then he remembered his life.
Being shunned, bullied, resented, denied, failing, failing, failing.
He remembered his friends and loved ones and the courage to keep going.
He remembered the story of the girl who failed everything she set out to do.
He remembered the Hallows he'd somehow collected before dying.
He had an answer now.
"I wish to be", he said into the white world, voice steady and a smile on his lips and meant it with his whole being.
Life took him away.
"I wish to be, the girl told Death, despite knowing she couldn't have anything she truly wanted, despite knowing her act of courage would fail her like it always did.
Death smiled, which was peculiar, since they didn't really have a face. It was more like a feeling of a smile.
I'm happy, they replied, offering their hand for the girl, I wish so too.
The girl took the offered hand, and felt a joy like she'd never experienced when she could.
Tears of relief and happiness filled her eyes when she clutched the hand tight.
Sometimes it takes more than one wish for them to be finally granted, Death said.
And sometimes it takes a while to find a good friend.
They stood there in the girl's tiny little bathroom, in lasting harmony once again,
Life and Death holding hands as the friends they were for each other.
Harry came into consciousness once again, hiding back a smile briefly before reality took his attention away, because..
He had been right.
It was silly to think Death would have a Master.
He would much rather be their friend.