Title: Death, My Old Friend
Author: Gothic-Neko-Writer
Rating: T (though only for very minor swearing at the end and mentions of death/murder)
Pairings: Draco/Harry
Summary: Draco met Death when he was little and they continued to meet, even if the circumstances involved murder.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters. All Harry Potter characters (and the franchise itself) belong to Ms. J.K. Rowling
Small note: This was inspired by a prompt posted on Tumblr – link on my profile! Happy reading and feedback is welcomed and encouraged! Also, nothing is misspelled, I used gender-neutral pronouns because Death is genderless.
Draco was at the ripe age of 10 when he met the disembodied voice of Death.
He had absolutely nothing to do with the murder that had occurred moments before they met. He just so happened to walk into the guest room during one of his late night explorations of the manor at the exact same time the murderer made his getaway through the bedroom window. Young Draco knew his family's position in politics and overflowing wealth made for every Malfoy being a target to assassins, but every attempt failed – except for that night.
The room darkened considerably when the blonde walked to the bed, the deep green satin sheets now stained with his aunt's blood, and that's when he heard the voice.
"Well, that's rare," the voice spoke, his tone expressing his amusement, though Draco couldn't tell because he was too busy looking around the room for the source.
"Hello?" he called out softly, eyes scanning every single spot. "Who's there?"
"I'm here to take your aunt, Draco."
"How do you know my name?" Draco asked, his eyes widening as he suppressed the tremble in his voice, letting only a small rush of fear running through him. His father's lessons about fear making man weak and Malfoy men must always stay calm, collected, indifferent, and never fearful running through his mind.
"I'm Death, I know everyone's name." ze said with a small laugh that surprised Draco, who was now leaning on the bed as if trying to get closer to Death. "Now I suggest you go back to bed before you get any blood on you."
After ze finished speaking, Draco felt lightheaded and his body started moving on its own, though he didn't question it too much because there were too many thoughts going through his head at the moment and sleep seemed like a good idea.
The next day one of the maids found the dead body of his Aunt Bella, but he couldn't focus on anything other than Death. It should have frightened him, but he was intrigued.
He wanted to hear Death's voice again.
Draco didn't hear from Death until he was 14, this time not as a witness, though he didn't get any blood on his hands.
He had become one of the most feared kids at his high school and he was reveling in the power of being untouchable. No one messed with him and he had his two friends, Vincent and Gregory, do all the physical stuff while he focused on where it hurt the most – people's emotions and insecurities, he had a talent for knowing exactly what words would hurt the most.
However, there was always a rebel in the mix who would actually go up against him and he couldn't have the pest put any ideas into other people's heads. So, he simply told Zacharias Smith to meet him in the forest behind the school on a Saturday night and when the dirty blonde walked through the trees, Draco watched from behind a nearby tree as Vince and Greg beat him up.
After almost an hour passed, Zack was unconscious due to the large amount of blood he lost and his face was beaten beyond recognition.
Draco waved Vince and Greg away, the two nodding to him before leaving, and stood over the body. He could hear the faint breathes coming to a stop and if the sudden plummet into darkness was any indication, ze should be coming soon.
"You again," the voice said just as the blonde crouched next to Zack's body, fingers on his wrist and checking his pulse. "I don't see you as a murderer."
"I didn't physically kill him, I just watched." Draco stated, standing up and brushing of the imaginary dust off his school uniform. He ran a hand through his blonde hair and looked up, deciding that the voice had to be coming from somewhere up above.
"Yes, but you're the mastermind behind his death. That's still classified as a murderer."
Draco shrugged. "I don't need a filthy rat trying to start a rebellion in my school."
He could hear Death sigh. "You're a git."
"And why am I git?" The blonde asked, glaring at the black sky.
"More specifically, you're a power-hungry, selfish, git," ze said, ignoring Draco's question. "I hope I don't see you again and just a suggestion, bury the body deep into the ground."
Then the sky was once again a dark navy blue and Death was gone. Hir words left a sour feeling in the pit of Draco's stomach and he felt sick. Ignoring the dull ache that hir words about him left, he followed hir advice and dug Zack's body where no one would ever find it - and no one ever did until Zacharias Smith was nothing but unidentifiable bones.
A year passed and Draco tried his best to stay out of Death's way. He cut back on the intensity of the physical bullying so that it only resulted in minor injuries. Hir voice haunted his dreams and his mind every day though and, more often than he would've liked, even became his voice of reason during any tough situation.
He tried to change after hearing the obvious distaste in Death's voice the night of Zack's death, but he was a Malfoy and that was how he was raise, everything he was taught showed through his personality – he couldn't change even if his life depended on it.
So, it was no surprise when he finally met Death again, though to be fair it was self-defense.
He decided to take a shortcut through the city and said shortcut happened to be a dark alleyway with a very drunk man stumbling through. One minute Draco was calmly walking to the end of the alley, his usual defenses up, the next he found himself pinned against the wall of the building to his right.
"Well aren't you a very pretty girl," the drunk said, the beer bottle in his hand dropping to the ground and his face so close to Draco's, the blonde could smell the alcohol in his breath.
Being mistaken for a girl always angered him and he was not about to be taken advantage of in a dirty alley by a drunkard who thought he was female.
The man was older and had more strength than Draco's small 15 year old body, so he couldn't break out of the tight grip the other had on his wrists. Instead, he kneed his attacker's groin as hard as he could. It worked and the man was on his knees immediately, hands letting go of Draco's wrists.
The anger inside the blonde didn't fade away though, and so Draco picked up a big shard of glass that was scattered across the ground from the beer bottle and stabbed the man several times in the back.
A familiar darkness covered the area and a smile graced Draco's face. He really did miss being enveloped in the dark produced by hir.
"Draco," Death's voice made the blonde's heart race and he could feel his cheeks heating up. He also severely missed the other's smooth voice. The birds that suddenly started singing in his head stopped the moment Death sighed. It was filled with disappointment and that was one emotion he didn't want to be the cause of.
"It was self-defense," Draco said, a small lump in his throat as he tried to reason with hir. He didn't want Death to be disappointed with him.
"You didn't have to stab him until his last breath though."
"He could've done it to some other helpless girl later on, I was helping," Draco almost shouted at the sky. He didn't want their reunion to be like this. Sure, he was getting to hear that lovely voice once again, but he didn't want the unhappiness behind it.
"I can't believe I'm still talking to you," hir said softly, the disappointment fading from his voice.
Draco took that as a sign and asked the one question that had been bothering him since they first met. "What do you look like?"
Death chuckled and the blonde felt triumphant, a smile quickly appearing on his face.
"I don't really look like anything, I'm just Death. I could take on a form if I so wished, but basically I'm the darkness around you."
At that Draco wrapped his arms around himself, feeling like the darkness was enveloping him in a hug. "If I asked, would you?"
Death was silent for a while and Draco panicked slightly in his head. He didn't want hir to say no, but he didn't want hir disappearing again either.
"If you really wanted me to... then yes," hir finally replied.
Draco let out a sigh of relief and tightened his grip on himself. "Then, I'm asking you."
"Very well." Then Death was silent and a breeze brushed through Draco's hair. It roused the blonde locks a bit, like a hand going through them, and he brought his own hand up to his head.
Moments later a figure in a pitch black cloak stood on the other side of the dead body in front of Draco. Death brought his hands up and removed the hood, revealing his chosen face to the blonde.
Draco's breath hitched as he looked into hir – no his, Death had decided to take on a male form – sparkling emerald eyes that made his cheeks flush. He then resisted the urge to touch the unruly black strands of hair that fell in front of his eyes.
All of a sudden, Death disappeared after flashing a small smile and Draco found himself standing on the sidewalk at the other side of the alley, the orange of the setting sun lighting the buildings.
Draco met Death four more times that year and this time the blood was on his hands, though nobody knew that.
After connecting the heavenly voice that plagued his mind since he was 10 to a beautiful and fitting face, Draco wanted to see him more and more. If anyone asked why on earth someone would want to encounter Death so many times, his reply would be simple – love.
Their first three meetings since the alleyway incident was filled with Draco asking questions or simply the blonde getting lost in the other's striking green eyes.
During their fourth meeting, which was at the back of a bank and involved Draco poisoning the robbers when they were inside the vaults with his own specially made poison that entered the body through touching it and reacted slowly (not too slow) – you wouldn't even know you were poisoned until you died, Death stood next to Draco with their shoulders touching.
"Why are you killing criminals?" Death asked as he stared down at the unmoving bodies on the ground in front of them, the complete darkness that came with him surrounding them.
"I can't kill civilians," Draco replied, his gaze fixed on the side of Death's face. "I'm a Malfoy and we have an image to uphold, so I can't go around killing random people. Plus, you're pretty against innocent people dying before their time so I'm respecting your wishes." A smile adorned his face when he saw Death's lips twitch up. "Also, I'm completing my good guy quota by getting rid of the psychotic wankers in London." Death snorted at that, bringing a hand to his mouth to cover his smile. Draco wanted to reach up and pull his hand away because he always wanted to see Death's smile, but they were still on a friendly, no touching basis and he didn't want to ruin that.
The next year they couldn't meet at all.
Draco was now of age according to Malfoy traditions and his schedule was filled to the brim – he didn't have any time to plan murders or concoct new poisons.
His mother seemed happy about that. He knew that she suspected something when she stumbled upon his lab and the new books he bought about different types of existing poisons. All she wanted was for him to be safe and he was, though if he told her that he made friends with death, he'd be in a straitjacket on his way to the nearest mental hospital quicker than his cousin Teddy finished his desserts, and that little boy could eat sweets at the speed of a bullet train.
Near the end of the year, crime started to spike up in London just as his workload started to become smaller and smaller. He thanked fate and began working in his lab once more, creating bottles of poisons and picking out targets.
They met more frequently after the New Year due to the rise in London's crime.
It was their eighth year of knowing each other and Draco was out of questions, so their time was filled with friendly conversation.
After Draco's tenth victim of that year, they had become closer, Death casually brushing his hand against Draco's as he moved to stand next to him.
"You know," Death said, his voice filling the silence as he looked up at the black sky with his hood slightly on his head, "You make my job so much more difficult than it needs to be."
Draco turned his attention away from the bloodied body of an arsonist and focused his eyes on his companion's face. He didn't know whether to feel offended or not and even though the blonde had no problem analyzing a person, Death was just unreadable.
"Let's go out for coffee or something," he finally said, now looking down into Draco's silver orbs, which widened in surprise at the statement. Draco was one of those people who could never be surprised, he spotted a surprise a mile away, yet Death always managed to do that with him. Then again, Death was always full of surprises.
"Is that possible?" Draco asked quickly before his mind decided to make him say yes immediately. Although he loved their nightly conversations, they always ended way too fast for his liking. He desperately wanted to have a proper and long conversation with Death – preferably during the day just so he could see his eyes shine under the sunlight.
"Dray, I'm Death," he replied, smiling his gorgeous smile and addressing Draco with the nickname that, coming from his mouth, made the blonde's legs feel like jelly. "I can do anything."
"So are you asking me out on a date?" Draco said teasingly, though a faint blush tinted his cheeks as he smiled at the other.
"Yes, I – Death – am asking you out on a date, no matter how ridiculous that sounds."
Draco laughed at that, his smile growing. "Where and when?"
"You'll know when the time comes," Death's smile faltered a bit when he spoke and Draco was about to comment on it, his mouth open, when Death spoke again.
"By the way," he started and Draco shut his mouth, shrugging off the small feeling of uneasiness, "after eight years of knowing you, I never figured out why."
"Why what?"
"Why did you want to keep meeting me? Most people are usually afraid of Death."
Draco stayed silent and smiled in response. He knew the answer, but he wasn't about to tell the other any time soon. Not until after their date.
Unfortunately, a sudden sickness spread across Britain the next year and people were dying left and right. Draco stayed inside almost all the time that whole year and stayed away from planning any new murders, enough people were dying so he knew Death had a lot on his plate at the moment.
He almost met Death again after his 18th birthday. The illness seemed to have gotten into the manor and also into him. His health started declining quickly and every day was filled with doctors coming in and out, various medicines littering his desk.
As much as Draco loved Death with all his heart, he didn't want to die and as if The Fates heard his prayer, his health started to get better weeks after he fell sick.
The rest of the United Kingdom wasn't as lucky and the illness didn't die out until years later.
It's been 6 years since Draco last saw Death and 5 years since the sudden plague. Just like when he was 15, Death's voice haunted his mind day and night – this time with a face that had a permanent place in his dreams.
"Draco!" Pansy yelled into his ear, her fingers snapping in front of him. He blinked several times before glaring at the girl next to him, obviously annoyed.
"I don't need you to fucking blow my ears out, Pans," he spitted out. He let his mind wander again to those emerald orbs and messy black hair, which isn't a good thing to daydream about in the middle of a busy sidewalk.
"I was calling your name for like five minutes," she said, shrugging her shoulders and ignoring his glare.
Blaise snickered from his spot on the other side of Draco. "Were you daydreaming about that man you're so hopelessly in love with?"
"Oh shut up! Let's just get this shopping over…" Draco's words trailed off as he spotted a mop of black hair bobbing through the crowd towards a small coffee shop. He didn't think twice as he left his friends' sides and maneuvered through the crowd, trying to catch up to the figure.
He managed to grab onto the raven-haired man's wrist, the other turning around and looking at him with gleaming emerald eyes that Draco missed so much.
"Death," Draco breathed out quietly and the other man smiled.
"Draco, good thing you caught me. I found the perfect place for our coffee date," Death said and the blonde felt a faint blush creep up onto his cheeks. "Oh and since we're out in the open, might as well call me by my human name."
"Which is?"
Death opened his mouth to reply, only to be interrupted by Pansy running towards them and screaming Draco's name, Blaise right next to her.
"Draco! You can't just run off like that!" Pansy scolded him, worry evident in her voice, and Draco felt a bit bad for leaving his friends behind without warning.
"Who's this?" Blase asked, looking Death over with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
"Harry Potter, nice to meet you," Death introduced himself, smiling at the two – though not the same smile that he directed towards Draco. That fact made Draco feel warm inside, knowing that the other had a special smile only for him.
Blaise moved his eyes to Draco, silently asking him for more information about this unknown guy.
Draco glanced over at Death – well, Harry now, since he was 'human' – and smiled.
"He's an old friend."