A Different Perspective
Chapter One
Summary: As the Master of Death, I have lived many lives, this is just one of many, but unlike the others this one stood out. This is my new story, as a girl named Penelope.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. This is my first story. Enjoy.
During my first childhood I had a loving family but I had lost them, all of them, my mother, father, godfather, honorary uncle, and so many others, after all was said and done… I was alone, but, for a time, though it was so very small, I continued to live, until I was brought down by one of the last Deatheaters still on the run. I would finally be with my family again, I smiled as I took my last breath, and closed my eyes to rest.
Then I opened them again, faced with a dark room, and an equally dark figure not to far away. I struggled to regain my bearings, when I was more aware of myself, the figure spoke in a haunting baritone that shook me to my core.
" Harry Potter, Master of Death, welcome." he intoned.
I shivered at the ominous tone, but made my confusion known, "What do you mean' Master of Death'?...and who are you?" I queried, strangely calm.
"You are my master and I your servant, as I am Death. You became my master as soon as you gained control of the last hallow." Death proclaimed.
I blinked owlishly at the figure, Death, and warily asked, "Is there any way for you to prove this claim?" tensely waiting for an answer, or attack.
Death just chuckled deeply, amused for some reason, and answered, "You have always been closely with death, as your scars clearly show. I was always close by when you thought of giving up, a strange thought for a child so young." Death stated.
I gasped sharply, I had never told anyone about those moments of weakness, not my best friends, or Dumbledore, not even Snape, who had constantly seen my past during lessons had known. The years before Hogwarts had been the worst of my life, the days where I had nothing to live for, beaten and starved every day. I had not thought of those times since I had started Hogwarts. There was no way anyone could know about those thoughts, unless, maybe, Death was telling the truth. Suddenly I was tired and resigned.
"So, what happens now?"