Written for The Houses Competition
Head of House Hufflepuff
Prompts: Sacrifice; Mikado Yellow; Sprinting
Word count: 1,989
Beta: Aya Diefair
MC4A - Paranormal Phantasm
Fill Number: 3
Representation(s): Magic; Luna Lovegood; Harry Potter; Death; Immortality
Bonus Challenge(s): Creature Feature; Second Verse (Not a Lamp; Ladylike - Aggressive); Second Verse (Tomorrow's Shade; Unwanted Advice); Second Verse (Rock of Ages)
Warnings: Mentioned systematic genocide
There were times when he wonders if he made the right choice. He thinks about what would have happened if he had chosen to remain dead instead of returning to defeat Voldemort himself. There was nothing tethering Voldemort to life when he lay dead on the grass of the Forbidden Forest and at that point anyone could have vanquished the Dark Lord. Harry Potter could have remained in the afterlife with his family and the friends he had lost during the Battle of Hogwarts.
He found himself thinking about that moment quite a bit as he grew older. He lived with Luna and Neville now, all three of them cohabitating in peace with no expectations. It was what they had needed after the second wizarding war was over and the entire British wizarding community was watching them eagerly. Neville was watched due to his slaying of Nagini, the final horcrux that needed to be destroyed. Harry was the Man-Who-Conquered, he was supposed to lead the wizarding world into a golden age.
Luna gained attention as she was part of Harry and Neville's group of close friends. She was the one who saw what the attention was doing to the two shy males and dragged them into a calm home cut off from the rest of the world. She made it peaceful and joyful, created the perfect space for them to recover from the war without the world poking and prodding.
It had been their home for over seventy years. Neville was gone now, killed by an overeager Extermination Squad member when he protected several werewolves from the witch's spells. Harry and Luna mourned his loss. They were trying to stop the madness that had gripped the wizarding world tight but without success. The world didn't care about an old man who had defeated a Dark Lord seventy years ago or a crazy lady who still spoke about creatures almost nobody else believed in.
The papers told the story of how the sentient non-humans were being hunted down and killed as though they were savage beasts. The Ministry had decided that wizard kind should be the only sentient magical culture present on Earth. Almost every issue of the Daily Prophet showed an image of a non-human sprinting for their lives from the Extermination Squads.
Luna was breaking apart as those she considered friends were tracked and murdered in cold blood purely because they weren't fully or at all human. Harry held her as she cried and tried not to cry himself as the panicked form of Firenze the centaur tried to flee the deadly curses being thrown towards him.
"You could stop this," Death said.
Harry shook his head, "I'm not the Master of Death, I threw away the Resurrection Stone and snapped the Elder Wand. I don't have the Hallows anymore."
Death scoffed, "Those trinkets? Those were merely items that would help you realise who you were. If anyone else gathered the three of them together nothing would have happened, they would not become the Master of Death for there is only one Master of Death, and he was not chosen by three pieces of junk."
"Junk? Those were highly powerful magical artefacts! The stone could bring shades of people back from the veil, the wand was the most powerful and could very rarely be defeated, the cloak never lost its power and was impossible to summon!"
"All of which you can do without the aid of objects. The power comes from within you for you are the Master of Death. This was not decided by the gathering of objects wizard kind has placed such high value upon."
Harry sighed. He was getting nowhere and it didn't matter that much in the end. What mattered was stopping the systematic eradication of werewolves, centaurs, goblins and other sentient creatures. "What do I have to do?"
Death smiled, her half-and-half face showing it as her lips on the flesh side lifting and her jaw opening slightly on the bone side. "Merely accept your title and you'll know what to do."
Harry nodded, thought about it and then asked, "Luna said that the Master of Death was immortal. If I accept that I am the Master of Death, would I still be able to die?"
"No. Only the living can control death, for only the living truly understand it."
He let that sink in. He remembered the night in the woods when he had died before and wondered again if perhaps he should have stayed dead then. It had been peaceful, nice. He had liked it but had known that he had a duty in the living world. He had sacrificed his peace in death to make sure that Voldemort was defeated once and for all. Now he was about to do it again.
"I will never be able to rest in peace, huh?"
"If you do not accept your duties, life will overtake the universe and nothing shall ever die again. No matter how old or injured or malnourished, there shall be no death."
For a moment, the idea of a world without death sounded wonderful. Then the true meaning of Death's words hit him and he understood the horrors that would occur. Even if someone was shot through the heart, they would remain alive. Even if someone's stomach was eating itself due to starvation, they would still live.
Animals would no longer be able to hunt effectively due to their prey never dying. Plants would continue to grow even if they were pulled from the soil. Wars would wage on until both sides came to an agreement because neither side would be losing any soldiers and tactics would have to change. The planet would be unable to sustain the amount of life teeming on it and there would be shortages of everything.
Those small critters that only lived for a few hours, minutes, or days would no longer die and would swarm everywhere. The world would be in chaos and it would never stop. It was an apocalypse that involved the death of no one and nothing. It was terrifying. Harry knew that he couldn't let that happen.
He knew that if he allowed himself to sit back and return to the afterlife, he would never be able to rest in peace. His mind would not allow him to forget the world he had left behind to such a terrible fate. He missed those he had left behind in the afterlife—his parents, Remus, Sirius, Neville, Ron, Hermione—but he would never be able to see the people he died before as they would be stuck in a deathless world.
He bid a silent farewell to the dream he had held onto of when he would eventually die and straightened his shoulders. "Alright, I accept that I am the Master of Death. Tell me how I can stop the persecution of innocent people."
Death inclined her head, "As you wish, Master."
He was running, sprinting towards his destination as fast as he possibly could. The wind tore through his clothing as he raced along faster than he should have been able to. As he ran, his features lost the signs of age and become youthful again. By the time he reached the Ministry of Magic, he looked as though he was in his early twenties—a time when the Boy-Who-Lived was still widely recognised and photographed at every opportunity.
He strode through the halls of the Ministry, ignoring the murmuring that followed his path as wizards and witches recognised the face of one of the war heroes from so long ago. He waited patiently for the head of the Extermination Squad and the Minister for Magic to be free to see him, smiling at the unnerved secretary who seemed determined to paint her nails perfectly without the use of magic. She was using a shade of yellow that was called Mikado yellow according to the small bottle sitting on her desk. Harry wondered if the name had anything to do with The Mikado by Gilbert and Sullivan.
He entertained himself by trying to remember the songs from the musical while he waited for the Extermination Squad Head to arrive and the Minister to see them. Considering he had seen it almost thirty years ago, the act managed to occupy his attention for the entirety of his waiting. He was snapped out of a rather strange rendition of I've Got a Little List by Allison Finch-Fletchley storming past him, slamming the Minister's office door open and shouting, "What's this I hear about my squads being terminated?"
Harry took that as his cue to slide past the secretary (who was even more riveted by her fingernails) and also enter the Minister's office. "Hello Minister, Allison."
Rose Weasley glared at him. "Who are you?" she demanded.
"You don't recognise me? Did you pay so little attention to your parents that you don't know one of their best friends?"
"I know that you have the appearance of a young Harry Potter but I know that that man is the same age as my parents would have been and you are not that age."
"Magic, my dear, it does many a wonderful thing. And you are determined to destroy several facets of it."
Rose harrumphed and sat back down from where she had stood to point at him accusingly when he had entered. Allison snorted and leaned against the wall. "We are merely doing what should have been done ages ago and returning magical supremacy to wizard kind."
Harry ignored Allison and focused on Rose. "Your mother would be appalled if she knew what you were doing. She spent her life trying to give non-humans rights and here you are hunting them down like animals."
"They are animals!" Rose cried. "They attacked my parents and killed them! No one did anything about it because it was just werewolves and they had no way of figuring out what werewolves. If there is no way to figure out which creature is which, we will kill all of them and no one will ever have to go through what I did."
"You will not see reason, will you?"
"It is you that will not see reason."
Harry sighed. He had hoped he wouldn't have to use the abilities accepting the title of Master of Death had given him but it seemed he would. "Very well. Know this, Minister, for every non-human you exterminate without cause, one of yours will fall as well. If you continue your crusade, the wizarding world will not last long. Please, stop this nonsense and listen to your mother."
He left the office, the shade of Hermione taking his place as he called her back from beyond the veil to speak to her daughter. He knew that only Hermione would be able to make her daughter see reason. Hopefully Rose would be able to gain some closure for the deaths of her parents as well.
"You'll be alright, Harry," Luna rasped from her deathbed. "I will only be a call away."
"Luna…" Harry couldn't speak. His best friend was dying and he would never be able to follow her. Death stood besides him, impassive and uncomprehending of his emotions. Only the living could understand death, after all.
"Never forget what's important, Harry, and thank you for allowing me to die."
"I would never wish eternal life on anyone."
Luna smiled sadly. "And yet you carry it yourself."
"What else could I do?" Harry shrugged. Luna patted his hand gently before looking up at Death.
"I'm ready now."
Death looked inquiringly at Harry and he nodded. She inclined her head in his direction and offered her hand to Luna. "Take my hand," she said, drawing out Luna's soul and directing it beyond the veil. Harry was now alone in a house made for three and he would remain there for hundreds of years.