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The first time Harry met death was not long after the second magical war.
I must admit that Death wasn’t impressed by his tea - brewing skills.
Theoretically he knew that he could live at Grimmauld 12 all his life and be semi-comfortable, but the reminder of Black brothers made him question his place at the house. So, he chose the other way, Rent- and boy it was hard to find a place for a seventeen-year-old at London and not take Andromeda or Weasleys up their offers to stay at their places, but Harry wanted his own space after everything that happened at war.
Stumbling across 221C Baker Street was as good as he was going to find.
Harry tried to make the flat as homey as he could with soft rugs, knits and lots of toys for Teddy from Molly. While decorating his own room he took inspiration from the Gryffindor dorms and the burrow.
Weeks went and Harry was looking through pamphlets of colors for the walls that he liked when he heard a soft knock on his door.
Outside of his friends no one from the wizarding world knew where to find him, his landlady usually knocked with a rhythm, the neighbor from upstairs with strange name pounded on his door like the devil was after him or even better just barged in without hesitation or consideration of his privacy.
So, if not them, who was it?
Harry opened the door and there stood a woman; she was slightly shorter than himself and had a beautiful curly black hair that framed her dark face like a halo.
There was something off about her.
“Hi there, you’re Harry Potter, right?” her voice was soft and with a flare of mischief
“Depends on who’s asking”
“Glad to see you are just as I expected you”
“Apologies I think you got the wrong guy.” he closed the door as fast as not to seem too rude and muttered to himself about fans and journalists on the way to the kitchen
Locking the door Harry hoped that the mysterious woman would take the hint and go away. Suddenly he heard a voice from behind him.
“It’s not very polite to close the door in someone’s face.”
There she stood…Leaning on kitchen counter with a smirk.
Harry let out annoyed sigh;” Great, who send you exactly? Minerva? Probably Kingsley? If so, tell him to shove his care up his--- “
“Hey! Language! Mr. really wants to be left alone. That’s no way to speak about people that care about you.”
Harry turned away from her “yeah well that’s what they get after repeatedly being told to give me time and ignoring it “
After a bit of silence between the two Harry became aware that he doesn’t even know who this woman is and here she stands in his kitchen.
Hary turned towards her and ignoring her went to put on a kettle for the tea. Basic politeness and a way to ease up his nerves.
“Who are you anyway? And what do you want from me?” Harry put two mugs for tea, one colorful with a stupid joke on it and the second deep blue.
The woman seemed to like the colorful mug although all her clothes were black.
Harry looked at her with doubt and suspicion, she hesitated with her answer for a moment.
“Well, we already met before but I’m not sure if you remember it, our meeting was not so long ago.”
Harry looked at her skeptically. “I have never met you in my life.”
“Okay…well I thought I made quite the impression but here’s a hint, it was at a train station where you met someone with a beard all the Santa clauses would be jealous of.” Her attempt at humor didn’t sit right with Harry, it was too forced.
Wait a second, at a train station?
“Dumbledore? But you weren’t there we were both…dead. Oh merlin…”
Harry stared at her with open mouth. Whistling of the kettle broke his staring and for the first time Harry noticed her necklace, with an Egyptian symbol of life.
A bit ironic considering this is Death.
Fuck, Death is standing before him, and he closed his door in her face.
Wait, is she even a “she”? Death is an endless entity, so maybe it’s not right to assign a gender?
“You are quite right, I am Death of the Endless, daughter of Time and Night. And it doesn’t matter to me how you address me although I prefer a feminine address to myself”
“Are you capable of reading minds? If so, I didn’t mean to offend you”
“I have access only to your thoughts and they haven’t offended me so don’t you worry, Young master.”
Harry stared at death and felt like his head was going to explode from the shock. Rubbing his face Harry tried to form some sort of explanation, he turned away and tried to steady his shaking hands by finally making the tea.
Death went to the living room and started to look at the photos hanging on the wall while Harry tried to calm himself.
She knew that her decision to come here so soon after Harry became her master was a little rushed, but the sooner Harry knew of his role the better.
Death smiled at the old photo of James and Lily; they truly were such a beautiful couple she was upset that they had to go but all that lives shall rest after their time is up, in the photo they were laughing and lily was noticeably pregnant.
Next, she looked at pictured of Harry, Remus and Sirius.
She remembered clearly Sirius’s death; the poor guy could’ve been lost to the limbo forever had she not been there to catch his soul in time. Remus... poor Remus and Teddy... history really likes to repeat herself she thinks.
Remus and Tonks were the fallen soldiers, as were many that day, second of May was a dark day with various souls to collect: children, parents, spouses and many with no one to mourn them.
Voldemort, he who runs from death, poor boy who turned monster, oh how she wished he would turn from his dark path, but Destiny was set on letting the matter resolve itself with a prophecy Trelawney saw.
Out of all the photos on the wall Death looked the longest at one with Harry surrounded by his friends with a little boy in his arms, Teddy, the boy without parents just like Harry.
Death was happy that Harry found his place among the Weasleys and young Fred was one of the purest souls she took.
Harry emerged from the kitchen with the tea; he gave the colorful mug to Death, and as she noticed, his face gained a little of color he lost earlier.
Harry, hoping to be hospitable, motioned to the sofa and took a seat in the armchair opposite her.
Harry held his mug tightly and stared at his guest.
“Well… how can I, a mere mortal, can possibly be of service to you?” Harry said, raising an eyebrow as he sipped his tea.
“Actually, considering you are no longer a mere mortal, you will be a great help to me,” she said. Her words caught Harry off guard, and he started to cough to catch his breath.
“I’m sorry say what again?! No more mortal what you are talking about? then what am I?” Harry laughed nervously.
“Dear, do you know a lot of people who survived not once, but twice, the killing curse? I suppose not...”
Harry stared at her with astonishment, the thought that he may be an “immortal” has never crossed his mind. At all…
“I’m sorry… you mean to tell me that...that I’m …”
“An immortal, yes." Death seemed to think for a second " Well yes and no.”
Death sat her cup on the coffee table.
“Dear, it’s a lot more complicated than that"
Death looked at Harry like he might bolt out if she said the wrong thing she chose her next words with caution while playing with her ring.
“Harry, the night your parents died you survived not only thanks to your mother’s love, believe me there were always mothers willing to sacrifice themselves for their children, both magic and mundane alike. That night your mother knew that Tom would not listen to her pleas. So, she acted to save you, but the path she took made you immortal and a possible host for the horcrux. “
Harry felt dizziness taking a hold of him.
“What do you mean by saying the path she took made me a possible host for the horcrux? It doesn’t make sense… I was the only living being in the room, that’s how Tom’s soul attached herself to me. “
Death looked at Harry’s scar and saw an echo of dark soul there. She chose to try a different approach, to see if Harry would understand by himself.
” Had anyone told you exactly how you got the scar on your forehead?”
Harry saw the change of subject but let it slide. He touched his scar with one hand, trying to remember what the headmaster told him of the scar, the only thing that he could come up with was that it was the gesture one makes to cast the spell, but he was not sure.
“No, it was not the casting of the spell that gave you this scar” Death added, “the last minutes of her life Lily Potter managed to carve a rune on your forehead that was supposed to protect you. Rune Sowilo gives life energy, sun and clarity, but you see, any runic rituals require a sacrifice and your mother knew it". Death took a deep breath as in preparing to say something way worse.
“Even if Tom spared her, she still would have given her life to protect you…but she didn’t know that Tom’s soul was fractured and that when protection powered by her sacrifice and the runic ritual would inevitably guard you and kill Tom… piece of his soul found your scar, a remnant of powerful magic and attached itself to you for seventeen years. ”
Harry put his cup down on the table with shaking hands and took a deep breath trying to calm himself up.
Tears threatened to spill out, he took off his glasses and stood from where he sat.
Harry paced in the room for couple minutes while massaging his temples, finally he took a deep breath and leaned on the back of the armchair.
“You mean to say that my own mother…my mom, carved this scar herself on my forehead trying to protect me knowing that my dad was already murdered and she died to activate the protection while also unknowingly putting a fucking “door” on my forehead for Tom’s soul!? Like a sign that said here is an alive source powerful enough to hold you!” Harry snapped, arms linked together, knuckles turning white.
“yes”
Harry’s head fell in defeat and the dam broke.
His cries shook his form and the anguish in his voice broke Death’s heart.
Harry tried to take deep breaths but the lump in his throat held all his pain inside making his insides hurt and heart to ache all over again over his mother’s death.
He never would have imagined that she deliberately made a ritual with an actual sacrifice so he, a one-year-old boy, would live. Too bad Lily Potter never survived to see what hell her son overcome trying to get rid of a parasite that lived within his mind.
Death stood from the sofa and approached Harry’s crying form.
She tried to hug him, but he stepped back and looked at her, at the pain on his face Death gently held her arms out as an invitation.
Finally, Harry seemed to shrink on himself and lay his head on her shoulder in search of comfort. Death hugged him gently but firmly as he hugged her back and cried his heart out for the childhood that he could have had and the future that now seemed like a distant echo of dreams.
Harry’s cries shook him and his tears soaked Death’s shoulder but she didn’t care, just continued to hold him and stroke his hair while murmuring comforting words.
After what seemed like a lifetime Harry’s cries subsided and he was left with a pit of dread in his abdomen, here he was a hero of war crying his soul out on shoulder of Death that for some reason acted all friendly with him.
Death continued to hold him and didn’t let go until Harry pulled away.
She held his shoulders for a bit and searched his eyes, but he blushed in embarrassment and lowered his gaze on the floor.
“I’m sorry that I had to deliver such a blow to your mother’s memory Harry, but I had to tell you this so you would know and accept your role not as something that suddenly happened to you, but as a role you were destined to fulfil.” Death whispered.
Harry, trying to compose himself, looked her in the eyes and saw an abyss full of darkness and sorrow.
“What role?”
Death let go of his shoulder and gently guided him by his arm back to the armchair where he sat wordlessly, watching as she sat at the sofa while playing with her rings.
“Do you remember the story about the elder wand? “
“Yes, but what it has to do with …oh “
“Exactly, oh… I must confess I thought that my gifts to the Peverell brothers would succumb to time and remain a legend but alas I was wrong and all three were at one point or another in your possession, Harry, the cloak of invisibility, resurrection stone and the wand... “
Harry felt sudden wave of tiredness and rubbed his face with his palms while death spoke. What a day, first Death is his guest then he finds out his mom was the source of his scar and if it’s not enough, he is …
“… that means you are Master of Death. “
Harry hung his head in defeat, of course he was the… wait? What!?
“I’m sorry?! Your Master? How is this even possible?! You are Death of the Endless why would you have a master?”
“Well according to my brother Destiny, even the Endless need some company, that’s what our “masters” are for” at that Harry stared at her open form and a shiver ran down his spine
“So, to make sure I understand correctly, the Endless make certain people immortal and later make them their companions for what exactly? for a cup of tea every couple decades?”
“Well, that sums it up easily only we don’t make people immortal. We cannot interfere with who our master is and how he is made one. The fact that you didn’t die in the forest and that night seventeen years ago is thanks to your mother. Not to me. Not to any of my Endless siblings.”
“I think I understand”
Death perked up at his lack of fear or hesitation.
“Great!”
“But wait, what do I as your master must do? I don't know anything about being an immortal being and I have a godson to raise. I can’t just abandon him for that role!" Harry proclaimed with a growing panic.
Death snickered and grabbed his hands in hers.
“Relax no one is telling you to go on the job with me. Teddy will grow up with a wonderful godfather, and you will continue with your life like you want to. You will age but sadly will stop around your thirties. You could join the Aurors or teach at Hogwarts, hell you can just open a shop for all I care. Your job is to be happy, to live your life however you want it. I will pop up every now and then to catch up and to be your friend but really your eternity is up to you.”
Harry was surprised at the vulnerability in her voice. Death’s voice shook and her eyes watered, but it didn’t matter to her. She still held on to Harry.
“I want a companion Harry, I… I need it… I need something solid in my existence... I was alone for so long… I cannot promise to be worthy of your friendship, but your companionship will be most welcome light in my existence “
Harry smiled at her words; he couldn’t believe that someone would cherish his mere company so much and he let out a little laugh and smiled through new tears that threatened to spill over.
Death let her tears fall and joined his laughing.
Their happy laugh filled the silent flat of 221 C and for the first time since the war Harry thought to himself that he could imagine himself actually living his life no matter how long it will be.