Death and Mr. Potter
In a small English pub sat a young man with wild black hair, a tired face, and green eyes that burned like dull fires. He sat nursing his third pint of bitters that evening. He wore dark jeans, black boots, and dark red sweater. He pushed the glasses he wore back up his nose after he took a long drink of his pint. Harry Potter, hero of the Wizarding World was hiding from it, from all his obligations, from himself. He just wanted to get away from it all for an evening, get pissed, and portkey back home to Grimmauld Place where Kreature would tend to his hangover in the morning.
The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as a familiar sensation knotted his stomach, a sensation that came with a murderous green light being cast through the air and the lives of people ending. Harry swallowed and took a breath to calm the thoughts rushing to the surface of his memory. He turned to see a woman sit down beside him at the bar. She was achingly beautiful with pale skin and wild black hair that went down her back. Around her eyes were markings in kohl that he recognized to be Egyptian. She wore black jeans, boots, and a sweater. On her head was a purple knit hat with small stars on it in silver. Around her neck dangled a golden ankh. She ordered a Bloody Mary with a warm voice that started to undo the knot tightening in Harry's stomach. Harry studied her for a moment as she accepted the drink before he said, "Bugger. I drank myself to death."
Harry was no stranger to Death, he had been around it enough to know the rush of its wings sounding on the peripherals of his hearing. Yet as familiar as he was to Death, he hadn't expected to hear her laugh. It made him smile in spite of himself. She gestured towards and empty table across from them, "Not today, Harry. I decided to come chat with you since you are in possession of some of my things and have what my younger brother would refer to as baggage."
As they sat, Harry flicked his wrist to make a wand of Elder wood slide into his hand. After a few quick motions, no one was any wiser that the table and its occupant existed. He put the wand on the table before him. Death picked it up with a fond look on her face, "I pulled this off of an Elder tree and gave it to the oldest brother. Desire laughed in the back ground. Are you the master of the fabled Death Stick, the weapon of the Deathly Hallows?"
Harry snorted, "Take it back, please. You're the one who created them, so logic—as Mione would say—follows that you are their real master. And this."
Harry pulled from beneath his sweater a chain of silver with a black stone attached to it. He took it from his neck and set it into her outstretched hand, "I'm keeping the cloak."
Death set the stone down beside the wand and unmade them with a wave of her hand. Harry raised his pint to her, "Cheers."
She clinked her glass to his. After they both took a drink, they settled into a companionable silence. Harry's eyes studied the people around them in a happy delirium. He was brought out of his musings by Death sliding a hand over his, "You brood far too much. I know for a fact that they would all be annoyed by it. James, Lily, Sirius, Remus, Tonks. Fred Weasley's afterlife resembled Wonderland. He was a Hatter."
Harry glared at her, his mouth tugging into a smile in spite of itself at the image of Fred Weasley at the head of a mad tea party of pranks and jinxed drinks. Across from him, Death started to whistle the first few lines of The Case of the Curious Oysters. Harry shook his head, "I got to say my goodbyes to Mum, Dad, Sirius, and Remus. I wish I could go back to Kings Cross and kick Dumbledore a few times before I thanked Snape."
Death wore a dark look on her face, "Albus had some people waiting with strong words for him on the other side."
Knowing of Dumbledore's past as they both did, they clinked their classes together again.
"So what now," Death asked stirring her Bloody Mary around with its stalk of celery "You've saved the Wizarding World, received your diploma, and was awarded an Order of Merlin, First Class. I'm not my sibling, but I would imagine that you would wish to get away from it all for a while."
Harry looked her over shrewdly, "You really want that cloak back?"
Death laughed again, "It was warm and very well made. I don't need it, but…"
Harry shook his head and downed the remainder of his pint. As it hit the table, Harry said, "I'll make a deal with you. If I give you back your cloak, you'll keep me and Teddy hidden from the Wizarding World for the next ten years. I'll be able to go about my business but not be recognized. I wouldn't mind getting my degree in something and maybe a mastery or two."
Death looked thoughtful for a moment before saying, "Deal. You give me thecloak, get things in order and call for a Joe Black. He's fallen somewhat in love with humanity at the moment. He would be interested to help you."
"Right," Harry said taking from his pocket a watch. He opened a side of it and pulled from it silvery cloak. He handed it to Death before setting down a few pounds. Standing up, Harry smiled, "Be seeing you, I supposed."
He turned to leave only to have a hand grab his arm and turn him around. Death's skin was cool, but her lips were warm, soft, refreshing. She pulled away from Harry and smiled, "Not anytime soon."
Author's Note: I'm not really sure where this will go from here. It's a beginning. I wouldn't mind Harry visiting Sunnydale, Folks, Arcadia, Westchester, San Fran, or some certain Reapers at a Waffle Haus. Feedback is welcome.
