The Grim Reaper and the Sorcery School.

Chapter Two.

A Rose by Any Other Name.

The Theft shall flee once again; even so, Death will prevail in the end.

Mighty and powerful, fear by everyone though reign by his own fear, the Evil Lord stands proud.

But it is by the Heir's hand that he shall find his fall and demise on All Hallows' Eve night…

And the Dark Lord's will shall be granted…

And the Evil Lord will meet his biggest desire at the time he faces his biggest dread…

And he will chase the Heir not knowing what he seeks…

A Child born from his Worst Nightmare…

A Fragment born by the same fashion he has entrusted his existence, with a whole different meaning …

Belonging to Death, the only soul Death will never claim…

The Heir shall ascend to the Dark Lord's place…

And the World will be shaped in a new Order.

Dumbledore sighed, looking at Trelawney's ghost like reminiscence turning around over herself in the Pensive like he had been doing for the last eleven years, since the prophecy had been spoken.

He hadn't been able to solve the puzzle; Voldemort had disappeared without a trace a long time ago, and he was even farther away from getting any answer.

No one had claimed to be the one responsible for defeating the Dark Lord (which would had been a deed a little too risky considering what some of his followers had been willing to do to find him, not to say avenge him if that was the case, thought shouldn't be a problem to anyone able to defeat Tom); but Dumbledore had made sure: Voldemort was last seen the morning of October 31st, 1980, and no one –not even his most trustworthy Death Eaters- had seen him after.

So far.

It was only reasonable to assume the Heir and he had finally met.

And how it had turned out.

The old Wizard stared at his memory without seeing it; Voldemort's search for his destined nemesis had caused a lot of pain. The man –he was a man not matter if he had ever admitted it or not, not even if most prefer to distance the human race of him by labeling him as a monster- had skillfully managed to make his followers and detractors do his evil deed, leading them to kill each other, taking special care to ensure the elimination of the descendants of the most ancient and notorious families and characters in Magical History.

And it only had stopped with Voldemort's disappearance.

Once again, his thoughts were drawn to the mysterious Heir…

He had his theories, of course, some of them a little bit too close of getting him a white, puffy chamber in St. Mungo; quite an accomplishment since there was no floor destined for the mentally ill –or anyone for that matter- who wasn't been victim of some kind of magical accident.

But, as certain muggle detective had once said, "When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth".

…Which turns to be specially complicated when applied in the Magical World, and when you happened to be one of the most intelligent wizards alive…

The possibilities just grew exponentially.

Too often had he wondered if the cure would turn out to be worse than the disease…

The Heir shall ascend to the Dark Lord's place…

And the World will be shaped in a new Order.

Voldemort he knew... how he thought, his methods, what to expect… He knew him and he could fight him, but if the Heir turned to be a new foe instead of an ally…

He could only hope that wasn't the case; he could only hope the new Order the Heir would bring would be a bright one…

He could only hope for the best and be ready for the worst…

And the worst scenario was confronting two Dark Lords instead of one…

With a wave of his wand, the image of Trelawney sunk in the Pensive; he recovered his memories and stood up.

He must meet an old friend…

-o-o-o-

In Death City, in beautiful, sunny Nevada, inside the Death Room, Lord Death watched the world through his mirror with a thoughtful frown on his white mask.

"Someone is after the Philosopher's Stone," he commented.

"The Philosopher's Stone? Sounds boring…" huffed 25 years old Death Scythe, Spirit Albarn.

"It's the treasure of Alchemy; a ruby-like stone able to transfigure any substance into gold and also used to elaborate an elixir that extends life," said Kid. "I studied Alchemy," he stated to answer the questioning look in his father's Weapon's eyes.

Spirit sighed. "I'm guessing a lot of people want gold and a long life… Any idea who's behind this?"

"The evidence so far points to Tom Riddle a.k.a. Lord Voldemort," informed his boss. "Our sources last pointed him in Albania; however, we have reasons to believe he is the Master Mind behind the whole deal."

Kid frowned gloomily at the name.

"Didn't you kill him already?" Spirit asked him.

"I did a poor job," he said. "I destroyed his body but his soul managed to escape."

Lord Death nodded. "And that's exactly why he'd need the stone: to recover his body, and therefore, his powers…"

But Kid was too busy to listen. "I'm useless… a piece of trash… I can't find a Weapon nor collect a soul… I should just die…" whined the young Reaper from his rant on the ground.

"Now," Lord Death clapped, "I got word that the stone will be kept at a sorcery school in Scotland and I was thinking of sending an undercover agent to ensure the security… You Kiddo~!"

"I'll just mess it up… again… Send someone else…" answered the depressed (and useless) Kid from the floor.

"But it has to be you! You are the best for the job!" cried his father.

"All teaching posts are taken, so we have to send a student, unless we forced some teacher to take a sabbatical year and that's too complicated too properly pull off without raising suspicions… There are seven years of elementary magical education, which begins when the children are eleven years old, so we need a child between eleven and eighteen with an excellent Soul Control for the magic thing.

"Sending some of our older and more experienced students won't do, since they would be expected to perform certain level of magic –which they don't know how, so they would be discovered instantly.

"Sending one of the younger and newer students of DWMA is completely out of the question; they wouldn't stand a chance, they would get caught ASAP.

"But you, Kid, you are young and cute! You are very experienced and your Soul Control is perfect! You can easily pass as a First Year student!"

Spirit nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah… I guess you could pass as anywhere between eleven and fifteen…"

"I can't do magic…" grumbled Kid from the ground.

"Of course you can! Grim Reaper powers are considered magic! And you'll master the wizarding kind in no time since it basically consists in canalizing your energy through a stick; kinda like Meisters and Weapons but without the feedback~

"Actually any creature can do wizarding magic as long as they possess the ability to canalize energy. Of course it requires a lot of study and practice, memorizing the spells and the stick moves and yaddah-yaddah. Piece of cake~

"You shouldn't have any problem at all, son, though the magic in the air would numb your Soul Perception, acting kinda like a Soul Protect, so you'll need to keep a watchful eye at all times.

"I'm counting on you, son. You'll do great~!"

Kid nodded, standing up and scrupulously brushing any trace of sand from his clothes. "If you are so sure I'm fit for the job, I'll do it, Father…"

"I do~" Lord Death bobbed enthusiastically. He waved a piece of paper. "And look! I happen to have an application form with me!

"Let's see~"

Lord Death cleared his throat and began reading:

"HOGWARTS SCHOOLof WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

"REGISTRATION FORM

"Name.

Lord Death looked at his son thoughtfully. "I don't think we can use your name; it will be better if no one there suspects about your mission, so we'll need an alias…

"I KNOW!" The Reaper bent over the paper and scribbled furiously. "Done~! Whatcha think~?" He shoved the paper under Kid's nose enthusiastically.

The youth read aloud. "Kidd d'Eath?"

"Clever, huh? Now, date of birth… October 31, 14-"

"If I'm posing as an eleven year old; it should be 1980," pointed Kid.

"Oh, right… 1980… That was close…" Lord Death whistled with relief. "Place of birth… Can't put Death City… Las Vegas then!

"Current address… We have a safe house near Las Vegas, let's use that… The next one is… Father's name! Oh, I get an alias too! What would be good? Whatcha think, Kiddo?"

"Uhm…" Kid tilted his head, frowning. "I don't know, maybe one of those people used to call you…?"

Lord Death clapped excitedly. "Which one? There are so many… Shinigami, Anubis, Hades, Thanatos (why Greeks thought I was two different people is beyond me…), Mors… What about Morti?"

"No."

"Morrigan, Barón Samedi, Azrael, Samael…"

"That could work…" pointed Spirit.

"Samael?" Lord Death pondered for a moment. "Nope. I know! What about Lloyd?"

"Lloyd?" Spirit raised an eyebrow. "Lloyd d'Eath and Kidd? Seriously? That's the best you can come with?"

"Why not~?" Lord Death wrote it down. "It has a familiar appealing… Age? I don't remember…"

"Father…"

"Oh, right! I'm posing as the father of a regular eleven year old… What age would be good? ... Hey, Spirit? How old were you when your child was born?"

"Eighteen." A blissful expression covered the red head's features. "I was eighteen when the Angel of purity and Light that Maka is blessed me with her sweet presence, vanishing the horrors and tribulations of my existe-"

"Eighteen plus eleven is twenty-nine!" Lord Death wrote it down, completely ignoring Spirit's outburst.

"Occupation…"

"We need something inconspicuous," stated Kid, "something that doesn't raise suspicion nor does need an elaborate background but also could explain any inconsistence.

"Maybe researcher…?"

"That's great! Researcher shall be~" Lord Death wrote it down and continued reading. "Mother's name… We don't need this… I'm not sharing credit of you with either a real or fictional person…" He crossed out all about the mother's information. "There! Done!"

Now the application form was smeared with black blobs of ink.

The Reaper inspected the rest of the paper and quickly filled the remainder spaces.

"I'll ask the executive secretary to get the proper documentation and send it all~" He whistled and a bat flew to him; Lord Death attached the paper to its leg and the bat flew away through one of the windows.

Spirit read some pamphlets, eyebrows raised. "You do realize this is a boarding school, right?"

Lord Death blinked. "Come again?"

"You've just signed Kid for a whole year in a boarding school in the United Kingdom… He'll be living in that school until next May…"

"…"

Lord Death stared at him.

"Uhm… Father?" Kid waved a hand in front of his mask.

"NOOO!" Lord Death yelled and ran to the window. "Come back here, you bad excuse of a rat! You won't take my baby away!"

He watched as the bat and a few others flew in the distance, carrying some envelopes.

"GET BACK HERE!" he yelled with all his lung capacity.

"They are gone, Father…"

Lord Death looked at Kid with watery hole-eyes.

"AND SO WILL YOU!" He cried broken-heartedly, squeezing his son's organs with a mighty hug. "What I'm gonna do without you?!"

"You'll be fine… It's for a short time… I'll talk to you every day…" assured Kid, rubbing his back softly.

"Who would I play videogames with?" asked his father.

"Spirit?"

"Whom would I complain about Spirit?"

"Kami?"

"Whom would I play practical jokes to make fun of Spirit?"

"Stein?"

"Hey! What?!"

"Not now, Spirit! Can't you see I'm suffering here?" snapped Lord Death before continuing sobbing and bawling.

Spirit's lip quivered and soon he found himself in a perfect symmetrical position -opposed to Lord Death's- also being consoled by Kid.

"HOW THE HECK I'M GONNA STAND HIM?! BWA…"


A/N: I'm so glad many of you liked the prophecy; it was partially inspired in a one-shot I can no longer find nor I remember the author… It was about Kid getting badly hurt in a fight, and if Death's Heir can die…

Originally this was going to be Chapter Three but I decided to skip Chapter Two since it would have been too tangled and some surprises would have been spoiled… Let's face it; you all know the original story, therefore, I must do an extra super special effort to mess with your head and blow up your minds with unexpected twists and turns.

Like a Gringotts' cart!

Therefore I decided to skip eleven years –how many of you noticed that Voldemort fell a year earlier in this timeline?- and go on with the story.

As you may imagine, the contents of chapter two will be release gradually as the story advances: just like the original one which we love so much~