Being His Destiny

Written for the 'The Weekly Song Challenge' by Gii3-DaydreamOfABeliever – Week Two: Destiny by Stratovarius. Not my usual music style but I love the lyrics and I had this evil little plot bunny with the black robes and the scythe in his bony paws staring straight at me ... So I took the chance and the rest is history. XD

Disclaimer: Original plot, places and persons are property of Joane K. Rowling. I just take her characters to play with them. I am sure I will put them back on their places ... someday ... perhaps.

R&R!

Death had waited so long for him, the man who had escaped him time and time again, splinting his soul, so that he could be reborn again. The Grim Reaper had seen mad men do unspeakable things to become 'immortal' – nothing and nobody could be immortal, even Death wasn't – but that was the most atrocious deed to this date. However, there was no way out for him, Tom couldn't cheat again. He would face his destiny today.

The clock is ticking, time is running, Death whispered in his ear, while he stood at Toms side in a huge hall with a lot of children and adults, who were terrified, mourning, fighting for their life.

He had been there a second before, taking young parents from their newborn child. He had cradled another little boy in his arms, who had looked wildly around the room to find his brother, who he wouldn't see again for a long time. But time is a relative term where Death had brought him.

Nothing would move him from Toms side now. It's time to say goodbye, he said, when he saw Toms favorite servant drop dead before the stout redheaded woman, who fought against the other to save her children.

Death knew that the mans time had come at last. He could see it in Toms adversary's eyes. They were blazing with a deadly green fire. The Grim Reaper had seen this boy – no, young man before when he had come to take his loved ones from him. He wouldn't see him for a long while after this day and he was glad about that. The young man deserved some peace.

As the fighters exchange the last curses, Death was wondering why he hadn't seen this coming. Well, he knew that Tom had to die. But that the boy had died? And he had Deaths possessions? All three? Did that mean he was a descendant of those brothers that had tried to cheat on him those long years ago?

While Death was waiting for the body that contained Toms soul to die, he became visible to the young man for a moment to warn him against using the deathly hallows against Death himself: There is a time to live, there is a time to die. No one can escape the destiny. The other nodded at him, seemingly understanding. And Death knew that deep down he did.

Time and place were melting away and Death was standing in the hallway of his house, the bundle of robes before his feet. Let your spirit free, he told them, a power in his voice that would and could shake Earths foundations.

A gray mist fled from them and a moment later a boy stood next to him. He didn't look older than ten years, a scowl on his face but his eyes were shining like the stars. His clothes weren't the best, his hair was untidy and he was far too thin for a healthy boy. But he didn't seem to care. On the contrary – he looked rather pleased.

The souls Death collected of old people were always as old as their vessel – this soul was something new for him. After a moment of studying the boy who stared back without batting an eye he thought, that this soul was the first fragment of the once whole soul, the first flame Tom had been born with. And the boy affirmed that when he opened his mouth: "So, the old man is dead at last? You really took your time! Why didn't you do something earlier? It was horrible to be in there!"

That was new, too. The souls he brought into his realm would be taken to the lounge by his servants, to wait there until he himself had the time to decide what to do next with them. With so many wars in the world there was always a backlog. They always waited patiently. But never before had someone spoken to him.

Before Death could say anything the boy skipped away like he was at home in this strange place. He didn't know what to do with that child. Sighing Death took out his pocket watch. It had to faces. One showed the regular time and now it was time to make a break. The other showed Deaths own lifetime.

For centuries the hands on this watch had stood on five minutes before twelve. He blinked and looked again. The minute hand had moved to four minutes before twelve. Before he had went to collect Toms soul it hadn't been so. Death questioned his own sanity before he could answer that riddle.

Laughing loudly he followed the boys, his new apprentices, path.

Death had been Toms destiny. But who would have thought, that Toms soul fragment would be Deaths destiny?

Fin