AN:

Sorry about there being no page breaks. I still can't figure out how to get them to show up. If you know how, I'd be most grateful for directions.

mindspeak

Disclaimer: I'm an American, I'm not British, and I'm way too young to have written any famous books.

Turns to the muse elbowing her.

"Yes?"

She (it?) glowered in a most Snape worthy fashion. I hissed and held up my fingers in the sign of a cross, and flung my body away from the demon that is my muse.

"Don't make me hurt you. Your readers don't want to hear about you, they want the damn story!"

Chapter 2: Strange…Very Strange

Harry woke up abruptly, practically flinging himself out of bed. He landed in an undignified heap, tangled in the old and frayed blanket on the shockingly cold floor. His heart was pounding and his eyes darted around, muscles tensed to either flee or stick it out. It took several long seconds for his mind to catch up to the fact that he was in no immediate danger. Slowly, Harry untangled himself from the blanket and sat on his bed. His gaze landed on the spot where Hedwig's cage usually sat; he had left her with Ron so that she wouldn't be 2 locked up in a cage all summer.

The dream that had caused such a violent reaction slowly came back in bits and pieces. He remembered an argument between a hyperactive swirling mass of light called Magic and a ominous Dementor like being that could only be Death as Magic had called it. He remembered the others that were present, at least vaguely. He signed, there was no use in trying to decipher an obviously crazy dream, as there was no way in hell it could be real.

Harry looked out his window and gave a bigger sigh; the time to make the Dursleys their breakfast had arrived. He got dressed, grimacing at the clothes he was forced to wear. Dudley's castoffs were not even fit to use for anything else but rags, and even that was a stretch for some of the "clothes". Harry slipped down the stairs silently, something he had perfected long ago, nimbly skipping the step that creaked. He skimmed his fingers along the door to his old room; the cupboard. It held a strange place in his heart. It was there that he felt safest and it was there that his life changed forever. After all, his uncle and cousin were far too large to enter it and he had been living in it when he received his first letter. There was also the fact that it was much easier to magic open one simple lock and snitch food. He also never had to worry about sneaking past his uncle and cousin at night.

Gabbing the list off of the fridge, Harry quickly began putting together breakfast. It wasn't long before the tantalizing scent of food wafting throughout the house woke up the Dursleys. It took far less time to make meals now, what with Dudley being on a diet, or at least pretending to be on one. Setting out the plates and utensils, Harry portioned the food accordingly, snatched his meager ration, and snagged his list of chores. He groaned as soon as he saw the lengthy list. The sound of what could only be described as an elephant or boulder bounding down the stairs signaled the arrival of his cousin and uncle. Harry turned around and began cleaning the already immaculate kitchen, waiting for his relatives to finish inhaling their food.

"Get me more food freak." Dudley's voice was surprisingly lacking the usual hatred. Harry complied and gave Dudley a piercing look. Was he acting? Dudley refused to meet his eyes, and Vernon snapped at him to hurry up.

Hot. So freaking hot. Harry felt like he was melting. The sun seemed brutally fixed on him. No matter where he went he felt like his blood was boiling. He'd become so desperate to cool off that he decided in a fit of madness to try to stuff himself into the chest freezer. It helped, at least until he fell asleep and the lid fell on him. He'd woken up cursing a like a seasoned sailor. His aunt of course heard him, found him, and decided to attempt to hit him with a frozen turkey. Which is how Harry found himself fleeing the house and his watcher Mundungus. Thankfully, by some small miracle, or his strange luck, he had taken to carrying around his wand, invisibility cloak, and moneybag. He whipped out his wand and cloak, summoning the Knight Bus. He shoved the money into the collection box and said two words he'd never willingly say: Little Hangleton. It was odd, he meant to say the Leaky Cauldron, but it was as if something had frozen his vocal cords and forced him to say the two damning words. To make matters worse, he found himself unable to say anything but a polite 'no' to the offers of the Night Bus.

Harry found himself taking a backseat in his mind. His magic had gone insane! He mentally pounded his head on a convenient wall in his mindscape. His body outwardly seemed as calm as can be while internally he was panicking and still extremely hot. Hold on. The Order will never think to look for me in Little Hangleton. They'll start off looking in Diagon Alley and maybe Knockturn Alley. I can only hope that Voldemort won't be nearby, if he is I'm screwed.

By the time Harry finally stumbled off the bus, he was extremely peeved. All he wanted was one normal summer or dare he say it? One perfectly normal year, all he wanted was a peaceful and danger free year. He trudged along a dirt road, flashed of memories not his own teasing him the further he went. His scar felt strange and his head was becoming alarmingly dizzy. Staggering, he nearly fell to his knees when he realized exactly what he was seeing: Voldemort's memories. His magic tightened its control over his body once more, forcing him onward when all he wanted to do was run in the other direction.

If he had seen himself in a mirror, he would not have realized it was his reflection. His hair had started growing rapidly somewhere between the time he was in the freezer and the epiphany. His ears had taken on slightly pointed tips that became more pronounced as he grew closer and closer to a shack that made the Shrieking Shack look like a well kept home. Harry also grew taller and broader. Muscles began to build on his lanky frame and his bones ached with the pain of accelerated growth. His magic had a job, one that needed to be fulfilled now more than ever. It would take time for the changes to be finished, but by the time his sixteenth birthday came around, its job would be complete.

Harry came to a stop at the front door and grimaced at the snakehead still nailed to the door, or at least the skeleton of it. He was terribly confused; he was seeing the present and the past as Voldemort saw it. There was something snarling and hissing in his mind, he had a sneaking suspicion that it was his animagus. Before Sirius had died, he'd taken the animagus-revealing potion. He never did see his animal but he had definitely heard it each time he looked. He'd actually heard many different sounds that couldn't possibly have come from the same animal.

He gently pushed open the door, as it no longer even had a handle. His feeling of disquiet multiplied as he moved into the shack. Shadows clung to seemingly everything, and he would have sworn on his magic that they were alive and whispering. The hair on the back of his neck stood I end, and his eyes darted to the only spot not covered in shadows. That was hardly reassuring, in fact, he was so freaked out that even his magic agreed that it was time to get the hell out. He spun around and hightailed it. It was rather comical; he greatly resembled a certain cartoon of a roadrunner leaving behind a trail of dust. He practically flew across the dirt road, and summoned the Knight Bus as soon as he felt like he could actually speak a language that sounded vaguely like English. He hurriedly paid the fee, gasping and huffing for air.

"Huff, huff, L'kyCdrn, huff, huff, Lea…ky…Ca…uldr…on, huff Leaky Cauld-"

Too soon young master, we will have to wait.

Harry froze midsentence. It was like first year when he drank one of Snape's foul concoctions. The one that enabled him to pass through the fire but felt like liquid ice in his veins in the place of blood. Who are you!

Death

Harry couldn't breath, he couldn't think, he just felt like passing out. The mocking laughter echoing through his mind was not helping. Stan eyed him with concern and fascination, like he couldn't decide whether to help him to a seat or stick him under the wizard equivalent of a microscope, which to a wizard or witch that never grew up or really spent time in the Muggle world, that equaled a really strange magnifying glass.

"Alright there mate?" Harry stared back stupidly, his normally vibrant green eyes glazed over. He was mumbling unintelligibly under his breath and Stan had to ask on of the passengers to "help the sod into a seat". Fortunately for one brain dead Harry Potter, his face had also changed and his long hair covered his most identifying feature: his blasted scar. He was still in a state of catatonia when Stan yelled "L'ky Cauld'rn!" Harry found the same kind soul who helped him into his seat leading him off the bus, into the Leaky Cauldron, and placed in front of Tom.

"…Know what 'appened. Lad came flying onto the bus like a bat out of 'ell." The man had a French accent, one that was strangely familiar. Harry came around when he was doused in the face with a cooling charm. His gaze sharpened and a thankful sigh of relief escaped him. The hysterical laughter finally tapered off into a surprised sputtering and he mentally grinned. It appeared that Death didn't really like the cold. Oh, the irony of that was enough to make Harry laugh rather madly. The few patrons in the bar, including the man steadying him eased away warily.

"S…sorry. I just came to a strange conclusion." Harry glanced up at the Frenchman and blanched. Nonononononononononono! Oh gods, he's one of the crazy loons from my equally insane dream. What was he called? Life? Weird name…

Another cooling charm blasted away his increasingly insane inner rambling. Death hissed and fled his mind altogether to Harry's vast relief. Tom and the Life look-a-like were eyeing him with mounting worry.

"Ahh, I'll just be going now." He nodded his head in thanks to Tom and turned to thank the strange Frenchman. "Thank you for assisting me earlier, I wish you a good day." With that he spun on his heel and strode with an air of great purpose out of the hazy pub, through the arch, and marched onwards to Gringotts. In his typical Harry Potter fashion, he remained blissfully unaware of the looks he was receiving and how his life was going to be abnormal even for him in the next few hours.

Death was sulking, nit that it would ever admit to it. In fact, it would eviscerate the one dense enough to even suggest it. It jumped in surprise when Life appeared out of nowhere in a flash of light and sparkles. Death's mood took an abrupt and suicidal jump off a cliff into a boiling vat of lava. Life remained oblivious to the impending suffering he was about to receive.

"Ah! Brother, I've been looking for you. Did you know that your master has already started coming into his inheritance?" Death remained silent, gazing moodily at its twin. Life continued as though Death had answered. "No? Well, let me tell you, he is one fine looking master. Have you decided on a gender yet? I for one am jealous of your catch. No need to pout (ignoring the scythe that popped into Death's hand). I wonder if you'd be willing to share hi-" Life never got to finish his question, Death eviscerated him before he could. Death stalked away, robes billowing like giant wings, eye sockets glowing a hellish red, and a crazed grin stretched its mouth. It had decided to start appearing human, though it would hide its gender as long as possible. Hmm, I suppose Life did have a point. Bastard thought to take my master… No! No, I must not act like some lovesick fool. Lovesick…

"Dammit Love! Get your skinny ass out of whatever hole you're hiding in!" Tinkling laughter echoed mockingly around the Shadow realm. Death spotted a flicker of white and shot a bolt of lightning at it. A pained scream cut off Love's infernal laughter. Far too cheerful. Ugh. Satisfied that Death had made its point, it transported itself directly into the Room of Judgment, or as its siblings like to call it, the Room of Ego or Superiority Complex. Death had not been pleased the first time it heard those names.

Magic decided now was a good time to pop in. It glanced at Death and began backing away rapidly. Death gave its best death glare, its eye sockets no longer empty, but filled with two eyes that would send even Voldy running. Demon eyes were not easy to look into, of course, when Death went out into the human realm, it would change them to look human. No need to send mortals running away in crazed panic. It would just create a massive headache.

"So. You decided on a gender yet?" Magic asked this timidly, its own body now hidden beneath a violent orange robe. It hurt to look at. Death signed. Where was Peace when you needed her?

"Yes. Now go away." Magic perked up, and bounded forward like an excited puppy.

"Ohh, what is it, what is it?" Magic was actually squealing it was so excited. Its form trembled like Dobby was wont to do when Harry gave Dobby anything.

"Out!" Death snarled, standing up, its massive throne made out of human bones and black shadow velvet creating a nightmare worthy image. Magic, coward that it was, fled screaming, its hood falling back to reveal a head of short wavy bubblegum pink hair and elfin like features. The pink hair had vivid purple ends that made Death feel ill just looking at for more than a nanosecond. Note to self: never try to see what the rest of Magic looks like.

Death sat back on its throne with a world-weary sigh. It created an elaborate mirror, and after warding the room to prevent any unwanted visitors, slowly lowered its hood. Pale skin and red eyes gazed back at it. Deciding to change its hair to a color that one would never associate with Death, it watched with satisfaction as hair the color of blood grew. It continued to do so until it stopped at Death's lower back. The corkscrew curls gleamed as brilliantly as light reflecting. Full, red rose lips pulled up into a satisfied smile. Skin took on a silver glow, like moonlight, and a heart shaped face slowly took shape. One silver-rimmed ice blue eye and one sapphire and gold-rimmed eye stared at the breathtaking face of Death. Its hair took on silver and gold highlights, instead of looking odd; it only emphasized the same colors in both eyes. A body that even Aphrodite would be jealous of now sat regally on a throne of bones, looking like a delicate flower among withered plants. As Death gazed at her reflection, she idly mused about how her master would react. After all, in the era she gave out the Hallows, the title of master had more than one meaning that was often used. Master also meant husband, or at the very least to wizards it did and still remained so in many pureblood families. A wicked grin revealed two delicate fangs, looking extremely odd with angle like wings.

Oh, this is going to be so much fun. I must have a camera ready to capture all of the foolish mortals' reactions, especially my master.

Next up: Harry learns about his inheritances, goes shopping in Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley, and meets Death as a "human" for the first time.