Harry Potter and the Aspects of Death
Disclaimer, don't own it, wish I did because then I wouldn't have to work so many hours at my day job.
AN: And back to the wizarding world we go. This story doesn't come as easily to me as the other ones do, but I enjoy writing it every so often. Sorry for the delay, but I write as the feelings and plot come to me.
AN: This chapter has not been beta read, my beta reader is in the midst of her midterm exams. Any mistakes are mine which haven't been caught by a fresh pair of eyes.
/Egyptian/
[parsel]
Death's Voice
[Gobbledeegook]
Chapter 7: Death Comes Silently
"Perhaps passing through the gates of death is like passing quietly through the gate in a pasture fence. On the other side, you keep walking, without the need to look back. No shock, no drama, just the lifting of a plank or two in a simple wooden gate in a clearing. Neither pain, nor floods of light, nor great voices, but just the silent crossing of a meadow." ~ Mark Helprin, "A Soldier of the Great War"
As the evening darkness rolled in on the city streets of London the tall buildings along its streets acted like canyons, capturing and funneling the darkness down to the street level. These deep manmade canyons cut off any light of the sunset that would have been visible from the ground level, had the sky not been cloudy that evening.
With the encroaching darkness most of the artificial canyons of London immediately took on a neon white or incandescent orange glow as the electric lights of the city automatically came on and fully cast off the darkness with their electric hum. However in the depths of the magical district it was the pop and flickering of gas lanterns that magically came to life that attempted to combat the darkness, but the gas lights only partially succeeded in their battle with the darkness. In Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley the gas lamps provided light, but also cast flickering shadows and caused dark angles with moving figures of shadow to appear on the cobble stoned streets as the light from the gas lamps swayed and shifted with the movement of the flames.
The witches and wizards of Diagon alley hurried along the streets as the gas lamps flickered to life, the magical residents of the alley hurrying to finish up some last minute errands before returning home. The magical folk's actions were further spurned to hurry by not only the incoming darkness but also by a freak cold snap that seemed to blow in from the north, a silent but cold wind that chilled the residents running about in their summer robes.
As the streets cleared of pedestrians escaping the increasingly cold wind, the shadows on the cobble stones danced to the flickering and windblown flames of the gas lamps; and then suddenly went still.
Like water in a bathtub starting to swirl and go down the drain, the shadows on the ground in the center of Diagon alley left their clefts and distinct places and slowly started to swirl around in a giant circle, slowly gaining speed and drawing towards a center point. Like a thirty foot wide two dimensional black hole, the darkness was sucked towards a central point that got larger as more and more of the shadows were captured. With the gathering darkness grew the cold, for it was as if the dark center of swirling mass shadows was also sucking the heat out of the air and replacing it with the cold of the grave.
The only individuals to see the strange site were the two goblin guards standing at the great stone threshold of Gringotts. The guards took one wide eyed look at the swirling mass and then darted through the open doors of the bank; doors which quickly clanged shut and issued forth the sound of many locking mechanisms as the bank sealed itself up as if it were under attack.
The now empty streets played witness to the gathering cold and swirling mass of light absorbing darkness as all of the street's shadows were finally sucked into a tight inky black circle. Then, with a swirling blast of cyclonic force, the darkness quickly shot up seven feet into the air, and then quickly rushed back to the ground to dissipated; the shadows once again returning to their proper places.
Unlike before however the street was no longer empty, for now a black robed figure, covered from head to toe by the diaphanous fabric of his cloak, stood statue like in the middle of the street.
The sound of an inhale of air and then exhale was heard, prefaced by, "Ahh, it's good to be home." A mature voice stated from out of the cowl of the inky black robes.
As the six foot tall figure stirred and moved its head from side to side the slightest glimmer of dark shimmering runes and symbols from long dead languages could be seen to sparkle from the ink black cloak due to the reflected lamp light. The reflection was only momentary as if one viewed the cloak they would think the shimmering a trick of the eye as the symbols quickly blended back into the robe as the light no longer show on the figure in just the right way.
Focusing on his surroundings, the figure looked at the stores around him before proceeding towards the locked gates of Gringotts; no doubt heavily warded and booby trapped to repel all those who would assault it.
There would be no assaulting or flashy battles today, nor would there even be the sound of knocking or footsteps as the figure glided across the ground towards the bank and then up its steps towards the doors. Rather than knock for entrance, the figure merely faded out of existence, seemingly disappearing an inch before he would have impacted the doors.
On the other side of the doors, the goblin bank tellers of Gringotts scurried around depositing jewels and treasures into hidey holes or down deposit drops, quickly clearing the main hall of anything of value. As this was all going on, ranks of guards spewed up from the depths of the bank and charged across the great entrance with armor, pikes, halberds, scythes, swords and axes, all running towards the door to halt any enemies that may breach the main gates and the bank's external defenses.
And beach those gates is exactly what that figure did, as the goblins in the entrance hall all halted their actions when a black robed figure seemed to materialize out of thin air right in front of the closed doors.
The goblin guards screamed in fury and charged the black robed figure, halberds and spears leading the way, [Die Wizard!] they yelled in Gobbledeegook.
The black robed figure stood still, neither pulling a wand nor moving out of the path of the charge.
Quirking his head to the side, the figure questioned, "Was it something I said or did?" Right before a spear pierced right through his chest and a sweeping halberd passed through his neck.
Only there was no blood nor no spilling of guts as the figure's chest and neck seemed to waft like smoke or shadow around the melee weapons before reforming back into a seeming solid form after the weapons were retracted.
Goggle eyed, the goblins surrounding the figure stepped back for a second, gritting their teeth and then tried again, all the while screaming in Gobbledeegook, [Die wizard! Die intruder, why the hell won't you just die?]
Through the hacking and the slashing, the figure just stood there looking down at the little goblins with a blasé attitude.
"I really don't know what you are saying." The figure responded politely, though unfortunately drowned out by the screams and battle cries of the attacking goblins. "Is this how you treat all customers these days?" The figure calmly questioned.
The hacking and stabbing continued on for another minute without any results or real reaction from the figure. It wasn't until a score of red robbed goblins ran into the entry hall and started casting goblin battle magic at the figure that he actually responded in any sort of action.
A sheet of fire and several large boulders appeared in the air and were flung at the figure, resulting in a palpable change in the air around the robed man, as he went from lackadaisical to perturbed; the hairs on the back of the attacking goblin guards' necks stood on end, as if lighting was gathering to strike.
Quick as a striking serpent, one pale white human hand shot out of the sleeve of his robe, right hand striking right through the magical breastplate of an attacking Goblin guard like a spear that split the magical metal in twain but didn't pierce the skin below, even though the figure's hand clearly disappeared into the chest of the goblin.
The goblin warrior's body shivered and seemed to go ridged as if in rigamortis with the hand in his chest, all the while the figure's other hand was busy also, as a second pale white hand appeared in a fist above the heads of the attacking goblins and pointed towards the incoming magical attacks of the goblin battle mages.
Two things seemed to happened at the same time. First, the fist pointing towards the incoming magical attacks opened violently into an open clawed hand, causing a rip to form in the air as a jagged eight foot by nine foot hole of what looked like starry night appeared and swallowed the incoming spells before they could hit the black robed figure. The air in the room seemed to whip and a shrill sucking sound was heard as goblin soldiers around the 'wizard' were picked up off the ground and sucked into the vacuum that the hole in space was causing. Second, over the sounds of the shrill whistle of the sucking air and the cries of fear from the goblins came the death rattled cough of the goblin who was locked in rigamortis with a hand in his chest. The death rattle was caused by the removal of the hand from the unblemished skin, but clearly clasped in the dark robed figure's hand was a struggling ghost or soul of the goblin which was slowly brought up to the figure's mouth, and sucked into the dark shadows present in the cowl of the dark robed figure.
[Yum. Did you know that your souls taste like chicken?] The figure asked in flawless Gobbledeegook to the goblins around him, though the goblins were all too busy to answer seeing as they were trying not to get sucked into the vortex of deep space that had been opened in their midst.
The figure looked around, and noticed that the goblin battle mages had fled the room, sealing the doors that went into the rest of the bank and the catacombs, leaving the remaining goblin guards to fend for themselves.
The figure was totally unaffected by the winds whipping by him that threatened to pick up the Goblin guards and suck them into space. He watched the formerly attacking guards digging their claws and weapons into the ground while cursing and crying out in fear. Unfortunately for the Goblins the slick marble of the Gringott's entry hall failed to give much purchase, and every now and then a guard would be bodily picked up and sucked into the rent in the air; their bodies explosively decompressing before disappearing out of sight among the stars that could be seen in the black void.
"Hmmm, can't say I've seen that type of death before. Oh well." The figure said in English and shrugged. With a negligent clasp of his hand, the rent in space closed, just in time for a goblin to lose his grasp on the floor and go flying through the place where the hole in the air had been.
The goblins around the figure moaned and groaned for a second but then realized they were still next to their tormentor and quickly backed away from him.
The disheveled goblin guards gave the figure a wide birth, but again clasped their weapons and aimed the 'pointy ends' at the figure before them, but all were hesitant to act.
[So, can I please access my vaults now like I originally came here to do?] The figure growled and snarled out in Gobbledeegook; he was trying to be polite after all, and it was only proper to sound like you were snarling while chewing gravel when speaking the goblin language.
It took a few seconds before the goblin guards could look around and figure out which of them was the senior most goblin guard left living and about a minute before the apparent leader could come up with an answer.
Spitting on the floor and then glaring at the wizard, the new squadron leaders cursed at the black robed magic user, [May your mate bugger you with a spear Wizard! Why should we let you access your vaults?] The goblin bravely cursed in Gobbledeegook though remained out of reach of the deadly wizard who had torn through his unit like they were mere green recruits not even good enough to spit-shine latrines; rather than the elite main guards of the London goblin clans that they were.
The figure merely cocked his hooded head to the side and then silently pointed a finger over the squadron leader's head and at the door that lead into the depths of bank.
A beam of light seemed to streak out of the finger and hit the doors that led to the vaults. When the magic hit the doors, it was as if a million years of time passed in an instant, as the doors instantly weathered and disappeared into dust that fell to the ground.
The action caused the goblin guards to turn a shade of puce green; which wasn't a very nice color on a goblin.
[Well, I could always kill you all instead and just take what I wanted from the vaults… then again, I really did come here in peace. It wasn't me who attacked first after all.] The apparent black robed magic user stated, his voice issuing evenly and politely from his hood; meaning he only spat three times and growled five or six times in between hocking up phlegm.
Before the lead goblin guard could answer back with a defiant statement that would have most likely seen the British goblin population wiped out, a goblin in a bright red suit marched through the dust piles that made up the remains of the vault cavern doors and yelled out that the wizard would be allowed to access his accounts.
Marching up to the group of gathered goblin guards and the black robed wizard in the middle, the goblin guards bowing and backing away as the red suited goblin walked up to face the wizard, said goblin stated, "I am Ragnok, the banks president, and just whom may I ask will we be offering service to this evening?" the goblin stated in English.
The figure nodded as the robes around him seemed to shimmer and shrivel as if being aged and withered, but in fact the figure only shrunk down from his tall six foot tall height and muscular stature to that of being slightly taller than and almost as thin as the goblins. Lifting pale white hands up to the cowl of his cloak, the figure removed his hood and showed the face of a boy with black messy hair and glowing green eyes.
"Why, you can call me Harry Potter." The boy wizard stated with an eerie quirky smile.
The rest of the evening and night at the bank went much more peacefully than what had quickly followed Harry's entrance to the bank. By peaceful it meant that Harry was not attacked with any more blades or magic and only had to avoid four or five instances of attempted poisoning or cursing from booby trapped items. However Harry knew, based on his goblin 'imbibed' knowledge, that the attempted poisonings/hexing should be treated as signs of respect for a powerful adversary; no goblin expected the target of the poison to succumb to the threat if they were truly as powerful and dangerous as they were perceived, and if they did die then they obviously deserved it. Such was goblin culture where the strong ruled and the weak were eaten. Harry merely shrugged off the attempts to kill him and was rather blasé about the whole death threat thing, seeing as he was so familiar with death and its many forms.
Harry easily bypassed the threats and took it all in stride, using his own body morphing skills to make his finger nail dagger-sharp for use with the blood identification test rather than using the offered cursed blade that had been laid next to the identification bowl. He easily avoided touching the poisoned blood-quill and opted to use his fingernail and blood to write with instead; he was still able to get the paper work signed in triplicate to get the accounts of the Potters and Harry's ancestors unfrozen and back into circulation. Ultimately Harry review of his accounts and directions for the future even won some brownie points with the goblins, especially when Harry authorized the use of armed hostile takeovers of investment targets or in securing debts and back payments owed to the Potter family. There wasn't anything truly unexpected in Harry's inheritance. Sure he was the last of the line of the Duke of Gryffindor and held voting rights to the House of Peverell in addition to House Potter and Gryffindor, but it wasn't like he was the next coming of Merlin, Morgana, or the secret love child of Voldemort; nothing that clichéd. Still, everything went routinely, Harry swore out a blood feud against Voldemort for the destruction of House Potter and then finished the paper work to reclaim all Potter property seized/'borrowed' by Dumbledore or the Ministry. Everything was going swimmingly, up until the point where Ragnok questioned what Lord Potter's plans were now that he had returned to Wizarding World.
Harry negligently replied with a casual wave of his hand to preface the nature of his answer, "Oh, I don't know, probably spend some time looking around for the pieces of Thomas Riddle's soul. Perhaps travel the world a bit, enjoy my fortune, why do you ask?"
Ragnok looked back at the seemly small boy and smiled a sharp toothed smile at the chance to ruin the young wizards plans, "Well what about your schooling, it is the law that all wizards must sit for at least their OWL exams if not their NEWTS?"
Harry smiled back, realizing what the goblin banking director was trying to do, "Ah, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have to go to school given that I have my Master's certificate already."
With that, Harry reached into the sleeve of his robe and pulled out a grey scroll of some indeterminate 'animal' skin wrapped around the leg bone of a human. A blood red wax seal held the scroll shut, and on the seal was the symbol of the Deathly Hallows. Harry handed the scroll over to the director with a smile.
The fact that the 'boy' across from him had a Master's certificate already gave the head goblin a sinking feeling that his fun had been ruined. Using a sharp nail to break the seal, the Goblin began to read through the scroll.
Harry watched Ragnok read over the contents of the scroll, and as the goblin read Harry noted that the bank director's complexion took on a more pallid look; Harry's smile growing larger in inverse proportion to the goblin's growing scowl and fright.
"Dark Arts… Necromancy... Soul magic, Blood magic… Master of Death!" Ragnok read out loud in growing horror as he read down the scroll. The Goblin's eyes grew larger and his skin took on a more paled green look as he continued down the page.
The Director of Gringotts Bank ended the reading and set down the scroll quickly before pushing away from his seat and shuffling across the office to the liqueur cabinet; Harry smiling at the goblin's reaction the whole time.
The director grabbed a bottle of high proof fire whisky before pouring himself a glass and swallowing the contents quickly. The smoke and fire shot out of Ragnok's ears while the head goblin concentrated on the empty glass for a moment, before refilling it again.
In his seat before the desk, Harry chuckled a bit at Ragnok's shock, for he enjoyed a good prank as much as his forefather had.
Ragnok continued to stare at his empty glass for a second before quickly giving himself another refill of the firewhisky and then tossing back the second shot and having the resulting fire flash out of his ears and out his pointy nose.
Harry continued to chuckle at the goblin and congratulated himself on apparently shocking the goblin; which was a very hard thing to do given that goblins woke up in their homes to the sound of dragons in the cave right next door.
Unfortunately for Harry, his patting himself on the back was put to a quick end when Ragnok made a slight chuckling sound under the goblin's breath.
Harry's eyebrow raised and he gave the goblin, who was still staring at the empty firewhisky glass, an inquisitive look.
"Heh… heh heh." Ragnok started to chuckle, which slowly grew into a laugh, "Ha… Ha ha ha, HA HA HA HA HA! BWA HA HA HA HA HA HA!" Ragnok's chuckle turned into an all out laugh, which then turned into maniacal cackling; overall not a nice sound to come out of a goblin's mouth and one which caused several lower level goblins, who had been eavesdropping outside the office door, to run away to hide.
Harry continued to be amused while assuming that he had broken the mind of the Goblin Chief, that is until Ragnok looked up at Harry with a gleam in the goblin's eyes before bellowing in laughter even louder.
It was at this point that Harry started to frown, and Ragnok reversed the tables by having his smile grow larger in an inverse relationship to Harry's frown.
"Bwa Ha ha Ha… They're no good! BwA HA HA HA HA… You have to go to school still. HA HA HA HA HA!" It made the Ragnok's day to be able to crush the boy's dreams about skipping out on school, for what child of any race didn't fear going back to school.
Harry frowned, thought for a second about what the Director had said while looking down at his knees, trying to concentrate to think about what the Goblin could mean by his words. Finally, not understanding, Harry looked up again and asked, "Um, pardon me? Come again on that, what do you mean 'they're no good' and that 'I will have to go to school still?'"
Ragnok continued to laugh for a few seconds, took the time to pour himself a glass of the fire whisky again, but this time sipped it nicely as he smiled and made his way back to his chair; continuing to chuckle the whole way.
Ragnok made it to his chair and took his time to breathe a few times to settle himself down before looking across at Harry with a huge sharp toothed grin. Removing a handkerchief from the pocket of his little red suit, Ragnok wiped his eyes from the tears that the laughter had inspired and then blew his pointy nose rather harshly before speaking. "Well, it's like this Lord Potter. Though your Master's certificate does mean that under the Master and Apprentice Act of 1462 you are fully emancipated and considered a Master of your craft, however the Ministry of Magic only recognizes Master's certificates in specific noted professions ranging from Potions, to Transfiguration, Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and even on to such topics as Divination and Alchemy. There isn't a single Magical Ministry in the entire world that recognize Masteries in Soul Magic, Blood Magic, Dark Arts, Necromancy or Death. So… heh heh heh, You'll have to go back to school to take your OLWs. BWA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!" Ragnok finished his statement, and broke down laughing at the look on Harry's face as the truth dawned on the boy.
Harry's already pale complexion went a shade of light green, and his mouth opened and closed like a fish a few times as he was too stunned to really reply.
"But um, But um… um, ah, but the certificate." Harry started and stopped as the laughing goblin's words filtered through his brain, all of this only caused Director Ragnok to laugh louder at Harry's reaction to the news.
Finally Harry came up with a reply. "Oh Bugger!"
Harry Potter would have to attend Hogwarts after all.
AN: A long time coming I know, and I apologize, but this story and the muse it started with just wouldn't come to me. I promise that I'm not going to abandon this; I know what I want to do with it and where it ultimately is going to go. The only problem is that I need to be in the right mood to write this story, and I'm not often in just the right frame of mind in order to get this character right. Anyway, hope you enjoy it. Cheers!
