Ok... This chapter is pretty short-ish, but that's due to school. I have school on Saturdays (today) 'till 12:00 and I literally spent four hours doing homework today. Four hours. It's 18:00 now and I'm finally finished with this chapter... I hope I don't disappoint... XD

Also, this is chapter 9 so if everything goes along with my chapter-plot-plan then there's about three/four chapters left. Oh my god. And we're at 60k already. Like... how?

Death didn't even wave his hand or move his cane; there was no signal or preemptive movement that allowed the room's occupants to know what was coming next. It was sudden, silent and swift; and suddenly Death and Lucifer were gone.

Quicker than in a split-second, they were suddenly somewhere else. The temperature and humidity was the first sudden, jarring difference. Within a few seconds, beads of sweat started rolling down his forehead; whether from nervousness or the heat, Harry didn't know. Next, Harry took in the strong smell of… fast-food? And then finally, his eyes popped open and he took in the sight of a… fast food joint?

They were sitting in a booth in a small, quaint cafe on the corner of a very busy-looking street. There was a counter on the far side with a short line of impatiently waiting young people, all of them worriedly looking down at their watches. Their eyes kept straying over to a menu hanging over said counter, as though still deciding what to take. The cafe was relatively full - of young, exuberant people, chatting animately with each other; all dressed in bright colours.

That was why the man - being - sitting across Harry, eating a chocolate donut (with cutlery) looked so out of place. Darkness, and the calm that comes along with death, hung around him like a cold blanket of snow. His old appearance and empty stare was a direct juxtaposition towards the other people in said establishment. Then again, Death wasn't exactly a person.

"Eat," Death commanded matter-of-factly as he took a long gulp from his black coffee. Harry looked down at the table only to see that there too was a donut on his plate. When Death's unnerving stare settled on him and Harry almost instantly complied.

Gabriel would have loved this - a sugar overload.

"Do you make a habit of kidnapping people and feeding them fast-food?" Harry asked after he had washed down the sweet pastry with a hot gulp of tea.

"Ah, no," Death said, looking mildly reminiscent. Harry stared at him, but Death didn't give any indication that he would continue talking.

"So, erm, Master of Death, what's all that about, then?" The ex-wizard said haltingly. Death fixed him with a glare so cold that it could have frozen Harry's steaming tea.

"Not in the least what the name implies," he replied icily, suddenly passively aggressively chewing on his large bite. "The story of the Peverells is in part true," Death began, "They did trick me and they did attempt to bind me. Their punishment for attempting to bind me - ah, well, their lives ended in tragedy; the eldest died by his own wand, the second by his own resurrected mistress and the third lived in fear and horror for his whole life." Death spoke with such a calm and collected tone that he could have just as well been discussing the weather.

"So I'm not your… master?"

Death actually smiled; it was chilling. "As presumptuous as ever, aren't you Lucifer?"

Harry's stare hardened. "I wouldn't know, I don't remember."

"Ah, yes. I heard about your pickle," Death's eyes met Harry's and he cocked his head to the side in thought as though finally seeing something remotely curiosity-inducing in him.

"I wouldn't call losing my memories a 'pickle'," Harry commented, eyebrow raised. Death rolled his eyes; it was such a human motion that it looked weird on a being of his supreme power.

"Indeed," Death murmured, wiping his long fingers against a cloth serviette (which, again, in a fast-food chain such as this looked very odd). Finally, after a moment of deliberation, Death interlocked his fingers; the plate disappeared and suddenly all conversations in the small room dulled as though someone had just plugged all of the Humans' mouths.

"What do you see when you look at me, Lucifer?" It was such a sudden and random question that Harry actually physically reeled from shock. Blinking he opened and closed his mouth several times, trying to figure out what to say.

"Erm," he finally started so very eloquently in typical Harry-fashion. He vaguely gestured at Death's body. "I guess what you'd expect about someone like Death - y'know the suit, the darkness, the creepy bone-face."

Death laughed - an honest-to-God laugh. He examined his long, bony fingers with sudden interest and flexed them as though he'd never really noticed that he had fingers in the first place. Sensing that Harry was staring at him, Death smirked. "Humans have such… limited, subjective mentalities. You only see what you wish and expect to see. I am not an old man, nor am I a young woman, or a small child. I cannot be personified as a Human - I am Death - I am everywhere you go; in your car as you drive through the night, while you eat, wherever you can die, I am there."

"That's a tad creepy, mate," Harry blurted out before he could stop himself. Death shot him a brief glare but otherwise ignored his comment.

"You should not see me as an old man - a reaper if you will. You are an Archangel, yet you still see the world as a Human - I wonder why that is." For a moment, Death seemed genuinely baffled, then as he kept staring at Harry, a slow and steady (creepy!) smile crawled onto his thin lips. He murmured a soft 'ah' after a moment.

"Ah? Seriously? Look - you're Death and sure I respect you, but how the hell is an 'ah' supposed to help me? You gotta give me something more."

Death levelled him with another of those soul-punching stares. "Do not presume to demand anything of me, boy," Death intoned, tone deceptively civil.

"I am not a 'boy'," Harry snarled back, suddenly feeling much braver than he should. Logically, he understood that Death could literally kill him with so much as a thought, but he wouldn't - at least, he hoped he wouldn't.

"I was alive many more eons before your creation and I will be after your death. I stood by God as he siphoned you from his Grace; to me, you are nothing but a small speck in time - a replaceable chess figurine throwing a temper tantrum because it won't do what it was commanded to do." Death's tone was suddenly very icy as he spoke and for a moment, Harry thought he saw his surroundings shiver a little as though the very world was reacting towards Death's state.

"I wasn't commanded to do anything - or at least, whatever plan God had regarding the Apocalypse and Lucifer's - my - death, won't happen. I am not going to fight Michael, nor am I too keen on the 'Heaven on Earth' concept. I don't think the Angels would appreciate my booze stash."

Death's head tired backwards and he examined Harry from head to toe, as though attempting to properly digest all that he had heard. "Curious… very curious," the entity finally murmured, eyeing him thoughtfully.

Harry grimaced. "Last time someone said that to me, I found out Voldemort killed my family." *1

"Pesky little thing wasn't he?" Death seemed to wrinkle his nose and then he snorted disbelievingly. "He fled from me his entire life and then died half a century earlier than most wizards do - ah, the irony."

Harry rolled his eyes. He was not going to engage in any sort of small-talk - with Death of all people. "Yeah, totally pesky," Harry drawled, sarcasm practically dripping from every word. He could sense something new in him; something foreign, spurring him on and forcing him to act the way he was - was this Lucifer's personality trickling out through the cracks?

"I'm new to all this - y'know I've never been kidnapped before, so, uh, why? It's not like you need ransom money or something - also while we're at it, why don't you bloody tell me why the bloody hell I can't regain my memories!"

"Do not raise your tone to me, boy," Death said civilly, but his eyes betrayed his calmness and then suddenly the facade dropped: Death's calm demeanour and polite disposition vanished, only to be replaced by a feeling of pure… death. This was Death abandoning his mask and actually, really, getting down to business.

"I will give you the information that you seek - and the ring," he started and raised a bony hand when Harry's mouth floundered in an attempt to speak. When the ex-wizard tried to press on, he noticed that his vocal cords had been numbed down: Death had literally taken his voice away. "But," Death continued. Harry rolled his eyes: there was always a but. "In exchange, you will give me back my Hallows."

Seemingly noticing that Harry's eyes had widened a fraction in surprise and confusion, Death let out a small scoff of displeasure. "I cannot take them myself - the Hallows have to be handed to me."

The tight pressure over Harry's vocal cords suddenly dissipated and Harry absently massaged his throat while he examined Death with shrewd eyes, attempting to spot the deception. Finally, after a long moment - and an intense staring match - Harry's gaze finally dropped and he nodded once in acceptance. They needed the ring; and they needed Harry's memories - no - Harry needed Lucifer's memories; he needed them to be whole again. Sacrifices had to be made - the cloak had to go back to it's original maker. Harry frowned briefly, Teddy would be disappointed with that - he had really taken to it when Harry had passed it on to the little half-were-wolf.

"Fine, but you go first. Tell me what's wrong with me." Apparently, Death's desire to get his objects back was stronger than his desire to decline Harry's offer because he inclined his head slightly in agreement or indulgence - Harry couldn't have been sure… after all, this was Death.

"Your human body is magical, correct?"

Harry frowned for a moment, wondering what that had to do with anything, but then slowly nodded. Yes, he supposed that currently he - as Grace - was inhabiting his own body as a demon or an angel did with a vessel. The body still functioned as it had when it was a human… so theoretically, he still was a wizard.

"Well, Harry Potter, I assume by now that you have been informed as to what an Archangel's Grace does to a regular vessel? A Human body starts decomposing as it is unable to hold all of that energy within it. Now… just imagine what would happen to a Human body if it were supercharged with Grace and magic." As Death's voice trailed away, Harry's eyes only grew wider as he actually started to comprehend the consequences of his actions.

"So… what, I'll explode?" Harry's voice was smaller and weaker than he had actually imagined it would be. Surprisingly, even after all of these years, he didn't necessarily welcome Death with open arms. Death raised a single eyebrow in answer.

The Archangel groaned loudly. "Ok, fine. But what the bloody hell does that have to do with my memories as Lucifer?"

"Patient as always, Lucifer," Death said, sarcasm coating every word. He ignored Harry's brief remark about 'not exactly feeling patient about this shit' and continued: "Grace and magic weren't supposed to mix - there's a reason why Angels don't take magical vessels: the body is already too overpowered with energy to take on any more. It is not meant to be. Harry Potter's magic is interfering with Lucifer's Grace, causing the body and mind to short-circuit."

"Bloody hell," Harry murmured and rushed a hand through his already unruly hair. "So what do I do?" He finally asked, after he had composed himself enough to address Death.

Said being was smirking at him slightly, possibly even finding some sort of sadistic pleasure in Harry's mental suffering. "You get rid of the magic or the Grace," He said matter-of-factly, as though he delivered this sort of information every day. "The remaining energy in Harry Potter's body will dominate said body and mind."

Harry's eyes narrowed as he stared at Death. "You're telling me that I kill one off and the personality goes along with it?"

Death shrugged, actually shrugged. "Your case is unprecedented."

Harry rolled his eyes and he threw his hands up as though to say 'fuck it'. "So basically my options are: not to kill anyone and I become a second Chernobyl, kill the Grace off and I'm basically rolling onto my back and screaming 'surrender' or kill the magic off and I become Jack the Ripper the second." *2

"Yes, essentially," Death said in a bored tone.

"And can't you… I don't know, maybe unlock the memories for me? I mean, you're Death, you're a primordial being," Harry said desperately, now grasping at the short straws too. Death let out a disbelieving snort through his nose.

"Of course I could. But I won't - I have learned that He does not appreciate it when I interfere with His plan."

"He? He as in God?" Harry groaned out again. "You actually know God?"

"We are brothers," Death started and seeing Harry's eyes widening in shock, Death elaborated: "In the sense that we do not remember which one of us is older. We are equals in everything and therefore we are siblings."

"So you're my… uncle," Harry asked, wrinkling his nose as he stared at Death incredulously. Said entity stared back at him with mutual dislike, then his eyebrow twitched slightly and he reached out with his hand, palm up.

"Now," he intoned heavily, there was a sudden tone of impatience in his voice. "My Hallows?"

Well, a deal was a deal so Harry wiggled his fingers and summoned the three Hallows. He briefly wondered what the people in this small cafe would think if they found out that Lucifer and Death were meeting up in said establishment to trade priceless and incredibly powerful objects.

A small smile actually graced Death's lips as his eyes set upon the objects assembled on the table. Gently, he reached out and gathered the three objects; they disappeared into nothingness… except for the ring. Death fondly tapped the stone set in it and then proceeded to set it back down on the table.

"I used it once, you know," Harry said finally after a moment of contemplative silence. "When I was in the forest about to go face Voldemort. I thought that if I used it, ghosts of my parents and maybe Sirius would appear."

Death sighed in that typical 'I'm better than you, Human's are insufferable and so incredibly dull and unimaginative' way. "The ring does not resurrect people," he said after a long moment. Harry's head shot up in surprise and he looked at the entity with wide eyes.

"W-what?" He exclaimed, blinking unnaturally fast. "But why is it called the Resurrection Stone, then?"

Death actually looked amused for a moment, but he hid it quickly behind a mask of coldness and indifference. "It is not the Resurrection stone. The Resurrection stone is a myth."

Harry scrunched up his face in bemusement. "So what kind of Ring did you give the Peverell's if not that one?" Harry's eyes suddenly, almost subconsciously wandered over to Death's left hand and just managed to see the ring that had been previously on his ring finger, slowly blur out until it completely disappeared. Harry breathed out in surprise. "An illusion?" His eyes flickered up to Death's and then down to the ring set on the table right between them.

"So that's the Ring - the actual Ring? One of the keys to the Cage?" Death gave him a vague nod. "And we've - I've - had it this entire time? Merlin, I'm a moron."

The deity rolled his eyes. "The Winchesters' melodrama is starting to rub off on you, Lucifer."

"The hell they are," Harry quipped right back at him and suddenly there was something resembling fondness in Death's eyes. Taking that as an indication that Death could actually stand him, Harry reached out and with hesitant fingers, picked up the ring.

Death's ring was warm to his touch, as though it was being warmed by some other third-party energy source; it was rough and bulky… it didn't have much elegance - a direct contradiction to Death's actual appearance. Then again, Death had mentioned earlier that his appearance was only a subjective thought, the way he looked was only manipulated by the way people thought of him.

"So, uh, what does it do? I mean, War's ring obviously turned people against each other…" Harry trailed off as he passed the ring from one palm and then back. "I saw Gabriel, Michael and one more person I didn't recognise when I used the ring, but I guess that he was Raphael."

Death hummed thoughtfully and his gaze swivelled around to stare at Harry. "The Ring was never meant to be used as a weapon - not like the other Horsemen. It is not the source of my power; instead it was meant to reveal people's strongest desires, their deepest wishes, however unconscious they may be."

Harry stared at the ring cradled in his palms and then turned that incredulous stare back on Death. "And all I wished as Harry - and I guess as Lucifer too - was to have a family. That was why I saw Gabriel, Raphael and Michael all around me, supporting me in my hour of need." Harry blinked at Death in sudden realisation. "What do you see when you put it on?" He asked, suddenly getting a very strong deja vu sort of feeling. Hadn't he had this exact sort of conversation with someone else, long ago?

The entity gave him a bored expression. "Family and materialistic desires are a purely human traits; I have no desires regarding the Human race." He rolled his eyes and nodded at the Ring. "You may have the Ring for the time being. However, there will come a time when I will appear before you and demand it back. I urge you to cooperate when the time comes for you to do so."

Harry sighed in relief. They had War's Ring now, and Death's. Two down, two to go.

"But," Death started and Harry's sigh of relief turned into a scowl. There was always a 'but' in every deal ever made. "My condition is that if the Winchesters die, you will not will not resurrect them. If they die, this will be their last time."

By the time Harry had started to comprehend Death's demand, Death was gone and instead, Harry was left staring at the opposite side of the booth, mouth slightly agape. And when the nice waitress came over to see if everything was ok with his food he nodded and gave her a generous tip. Then, with gentleness and elegance that only came with being an angel, Harry spread out his brilliant wings and took off.

.

Almost every window in the house was brightly lit with warm light that pooled out of the windows and partly brightened the small Japanese garden in the back-yard. It was a modest little cottage, but homey and idyllic: it was made from bricks and stones and creeping on each wall were large, beautiful vines. The door was painted a bright scarlet: betraying the house's occupants as loyal Gryffindors.

Harry in fact, now stood before said house, hand raised and ready to knock, but he couldn't fully bring himself to do it. Leaning back a little, he spotted his old friend through the window. Her hair was as bushy as ever and her eyes were as always, raking over an old tome that looked so old that it could literally break apart at any moment. She was holding a long, thin quill in her hand was was rapidly sketching out some notes in that neat, immaculate script of hers.

Hermione looked good; better than the last time he had seen her. The dark rings under her eyes were gone and her perpetually frowning face was drawn into a concentrated, but calm one now. She looked healthy and at peace and she was probably doing holiday-homework, because knowing Hermione, she had decided to complete her last year at Hogwarts. It was for this reason that Harry didn't want to disturb her.

He owed Hermione a lot, especially his escape to America, where Fudge had literally no jurisdiction and power - did he have the right to barge into her life like this? Before he could mull over the fact any more, Harry's thoughts turned to Fudge and the organisation he must've put together by now. Glancing up and down the quiet street Harry winced slightly - what if someone saw him here? Hurriedly making a decision, Harry knocked on the door.

There was some cursing from the inside (Harry raised his eyebrow at that), and then some stomping and finally, a lock turned in the door and it cracked open. This small crack was instantly widened when Harry's host very suddenly realised who he was. Letting out a trill of happy laughter, Hermione launched herself at him; Harry caught her and suddenly found himself smiling widely and he felt happier and more him than he had in months. He spun around and Hermione's legs briefly touched off the ground.

"Come on, let's get inside, Harry; before anyone sees us," Hermione finally murmured in his ear when they had partially disentangled. She dragged him over the porch and closed the door behind them.

"It's good to see you," Harry said, grinning widely as he threw himself onto one of the couches. Hermione's grin matched his and she sunk into an armchair next to the sofa.

"How are you, Harry?" She asked softly and then her face froze for a moment. "Why are you here - did the Americans find out about you? Are you on the run again?"

Said ex-wizard bit his lip briefly. "Eh, no. I'm fine. I've been squatting in a scrapyard-" Seeing Hermione's bewildered look, Harry waved his hand vaguely. "-But that isn't important. How are you? What's the situation like here? Ron?"

Hermione faltered for a moment, evidently burning with questions, but she relented and instead (with a quick wave of her wand) summoned two glasses of pumpkin juice. Harry eagerly gulped it all down, relishing in the familiar taste. "Oh Harry," she started. There was so much sympathy and pity in those two words that Harry was already tempted to turn away from her. "They're - Fudge and his posse - hunting you and they've managed to convince a great deal of the magical population of Britain that you are a danger… They use your exile as proof of your guilt."

"That's bullshit," Harry said, eyes wide and mouth agape as he listened to Hermione. "I would never intentionally hurt anyone."

"Oh I know, Harry." Her voice was still full with pity and Harry briefly looked away, unable and unwilling to see it in her eyes. "Ron is fine; he's a trainee in the Auror department now."

Harry's eyes wandered around the small cottage, seeing little knick-knacks that weren't Hermione's: a small, animated Chudley Cannons figurine, a set of wand holsters too large for a woman, and so on and so forth. He smiled briefly at that. "And I see he's living with you," he stated blandly.

Hermione blushed and nodded. She opened her mouth to say something but Harry beat her to it. "No, no. It's fine 'Mione. You two have been dancing around each other for long enough." His eyes wandered back to the stack of books and notes on the other side of the room. "I see you've been busy as well - back at Hogwarts?"

She nodded and fluffed her bushy hair. "I wanted to finish my education; my parents would have liked me to." She seemed to briefly deflate at the thought of her memory-less parents, who were still hidden away in Australia. Her gaze, however quickly snapped back at Harry and narrowed slightly. "You seem different, Harry."

Harry scratched the back of his neck nervously. "Eh, and therein lies an announcement."

"Don't tell me you're getting married?" Hermione asked suddenly, mouth agape as she stared at him. Harry briefly froze and stared back at her with confusion.

"What? No! Why the hell did you even think of that - are you getting married?"

Hermione blushed again and she shook her head, then giggled slightly. "No, not yet - but I think Ron is going to propose soon."

"Oh… Well that's good news, I guess?" Harry said haltingly, unsure of what he should say in such a situation.

Hermione smiled widely and nodded. "Your announcement?" She prodded. Harry cleared his throat, unsure of how to start; after all, it wasn't every day that you told your childhood best friend that you were apparently Lucifer and needed their help to regain said entity's memories.

"You can tell me anything, Harry," she said gently, gazing up at him with such naivety that it made Harry almost decide to lie to her about it all.

"Yeah, I know," he murmured as he stared at his hands. By now he had generally accepted who he was, telling his friends was just the next step. When his gaze slowly crawled up to meet her wide-eyed expression, he sighed and began. "You're not going to like this, 'Mione. But I'm going to have to ask you not to interrupt me - not 'till I'm done. Can you do that?"

She nodded; there was sudden fear and terror in her eyes as though she herself knew that whatever Harry was going to tell her wasn't going to be good.

"I'll start off by saying that all religions in the world ever created are real - Christianity being the dominant one." Hermione instantly opened her mouth to speak but Harry raised a hand and gave her a scolding glare. She faltered and snapped her mouth shut. "All religions originated via belief, meaning that pretty much every god or goddess you know such as Odin or Hades or Shiva were all created because people believed in them. However, the times of sacrifice have come and passed meaning that they can't get their power 'fix' anymore. They still exist but they aren't nearly as powerful as they once were."

"You said Christianity was the dominant religion?" Hermione looked like she was already bursting with questions but Harry gave her another stern glare. Finally, however, he nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, He is the original God; the one that created all of this." He gestured vaguely at his surroundings. Seeing her confused and slightly lost expression Harry smiled sadly. "It makes it worse doesn't it? The fact that you know that He's real, but that he doesn't care a shit about all of the suffering around the world…" Harry trailed off, realising he was going completely off track and cleared his throat uncertainly.

"Anyhow, that isn't the bit of news that I was getting at," Harry said. Hermione laughed nervously and gulped down the last bit of her beverage.

Gazing at the empty glass she said; "I think I'm going to need something stronger, then." Somehow knowing that he wouldn't be able to stall anymore, Harry waved a hand and instantly, the glass in her hand was replaced with a gin and tonic. Hermione gazed at him with surprise but nodded in thanks, seemingly actually waiting for him to give an explanation before drowning him in questions.

"Obviously, it's logical then, that a lot of the stuff in the bible is real, yeah?" She nodded and Harry continued. "Angels and Demons are real. There is a Heaven and Hell - Merlin, there's even a Hell-adjacent area called Purgatory."

Hermione's mouth floundered for a moment or two. Then it clicked shut and finally after composing herself again (and gulping down about half of her drink) she turned to stare at Harry again. "Ok," she murmured, gazing at him with wide eyes.

"Ok?" Harry questioned with a short, nervous laugh. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"After almost ten years of living in the wizarding world, I think I can wrap my head around something like Angels and Demons - and God."

"Well… I met Gabriel - the Archangel - in the US," Harry said bluntly, amusement playing in his eyes as he watched Hermione cover her mouth in shock.

"The Gabriel? Oh my - what did he look like? Was he intimidating? What was he like-?"

"-Whoa, slow down Hermione!" Harry exclaimed with a laugh, grinning even when his laughter had abated. "He's a bit of an asshole - floppy hair and has a cocky personality. I like him," Harry smiled fondly as his thoughts turned to his brother. "He's also a pretty badass prankster. Ohh, you should have seen this one guy we pranked; you'd never guess what you can do with a Hulk-"

"-Hold on," Hermione exclaimed, setting down her glass and then frantically waving her hands around. "You did what with Gabriel?"

Harry scratched the back of his head uncomfortably. "Would it make you feel any better if you knew that the guy we pranked actually deserved it?"

Hermione stared at him, expression incredulous. "How did you even - why are you-" she tried to get out. Smiling understandingly and knowing exactly how overwhelming all of it was, Harry interrupted her.

"How do we even know each other? Well, that has to do with the Angels and with a specific group of them…" For a moment he trailed off and then he took a deep breath. This was it. He was going to tell her. "Angels can Fall if they so wish to. They Fall and rip out their Grace - their energy source - from their bodies and become Humans. The Host of Heaven considers this a sin and a crime; that's why there aren't many that have done it in the last millennia or so-"

"Harry…" Hermione started, hesitatingly as she bit her lip. "Are you telling me that you are a Fallen Angel?" Said Angel gulped silently before slowly giving her a few nods. She took a deep, sharp breath and suddenly, her gaze became sympathetic and pitiful in less than a second.

"B-but you're still Harry?"

"Seems like it," he murmured softly, spreading out his arms in a welcoming gesture. He placed the glass back in her hand and smiled. "I think you're going to need that for the next part."

"There's a next part?" Her voice was suddenly very weak and Harry knew that he could very well overwhelm her… but he needed to do this. He needed to tell someone about it.

"Yeah. See, I - uh - regained my Grace, so to speak, but it seems that my magic is stopping the Grace from fully unlocking my memories as the Angel that I once was. I need your help with that - to somehow separate my magic from my Grace."

"But you do know who you were, don't you? At least a name?" She ignored Harry's plea for help and instead concentrated on the real identity of her best friend.

Harry scratched the back his head. "Well, I'm featured heavily in the bible," he started and watched as Hermione's gaze briefly unfocused as she tried to remember her bible knowledge.

"I don't remember there being many Angels in the bible… uh, Michael, I guess?"

Harry actually smirked at the irony and took hold of her wrist in a sort of calming gesture. When her gaze connected with his own amused and slightly smirking expression, she gasped out in shock and the glass she had been holding in one hand tumbled to the ground. She knew; her little, Human brain had actually come to the right conclusion all by itself. However, that didn't stop Harry's smirk from widening as he gazed at her mischievously.

"My name is Lucifer," he murmured to her.

Again, no preview - due to school. But I can hint at one thing: Harry will finally get his memories back next chapter and y'all finally get an action scene/fight between Luci and his older brother *squeals* I'm so excited to start writing that already...!

basically, finally, Harry has completely admitted to himself and to his friends etc who he really is. His transformation is now nearly complete. all that remains is him to get his memories back.

Also, I hope Death lived up to your expectations and answered any questions you may have had. I tried to depict him as a sort of indifferent being. I mean, he was pretty bored with the entire apocalypse 'fiasco' in the actual show. kinda unimpressed. So yeah, I also wanted to show him as something more than what supernatural gave us: I mean he's death. literally death. meaning that he HAS to be more thank just a well-dressed old man. Y'know what I mean?

Also, I was trying to hint at that Harry isn't quite, completely himself yet. He still thinks like a human. Someone like Gabriel would see Death as who or what he is ( well I guess the correct pronoun would be 'they' is), but Harry's mind hasn't been 'freed' yet. He still sees a human interpretation of Death. Wow, look at me being all philosophical.

Hermione will appear one last time during the next chapter (cos I really don't like her)... Anyhow, I thought that someone who meant so much to Harry would actually have to appear in his life at some point.

ANs:

*1: Reference to the original HP books when Ollivander points at Harry's scar and murmurs 'curious'...

*2: The references here are: Chernobyl = massive explosion (google it if you don't know), Jack the Ripper = serial murderer in London in the... 19th century? Anyway, Harry is talking about becoming a mass-murderer here.

Anonymous Reviews:

Guest: Aww thank you! I hope Death lived up to your expectations!

Mim: Buckle up everyone! This one's gonna be one helluva long reply! Ok, hello Mim! I can honestly say that your extremely long review is probably one of the top five reviews I have ever received. Thank you so much - I can't honestly thank you enough for that extremely thorough analysis and comment... It's just really flattering. And honestly, I wish you weren't on anonymous and that I could reply to you privately. I've read your review at least six times and every time I find myself smiling widely as I read it. Thank you so much. Also, I love you for your puns. That is after all, my favourite kind of humour.

Hmmm... My favourite exclamatory word? Well, that has to be 'whoop whoop'. Seriously, whenever I get an email and I see that I've received a review I silently (well.. under my breath) say 'whoop whoop'. I have no idea why. I hope everything's ok with school though - Personally, I am dead. I've only had school for two weeks and I am already completely done.

Hehehe I actually have an awesome plan for K-9 - and you're right. He's too intelligent to be a simple dog *wink*. OMGOMG YOu just gave me a great idea- and you'Re totally right! The Angels DEFINITELY have some sort of pop culture... At least one musical superstar... They HAVE to have one. Oh my god, I am going to have so much fun with this in the next chapter. XD

Ooohghh I'm totally obsessed with 'TP of Dorian Gray'. Honestly, it's one of my favourite books... *wink* *wink* Crowley's gonna get his own little chapter soon. XD Anyway, thank you so much for reviewing. I would definitely love to write a much more thorough reply... cause you seem like an awesome person so if you ever want to chat or actually contact my privately (ehhh it's kinda odd having to reply here all of the time...) just message me on here or go over to my tumblr (tardisdementor)... So, ehm thank you...