Disclaimer—I do not own Harry Potter, Deadpool, or any of the characters therein. Nor do I make any moneys from the posting of this fanfiction.

Wow! We're getting so close to the end. Here's the new chapter. Enjoy.

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Chapter Thirteen

Hogwarts. The school that had been a haven from the outside world, but also a hell once the war took hold. The beginning of her life as a witch and the end of it as well. She drifted more than walked towards the shores of the Black Lake. The giant squid waved to her from the depths. Smiling she waved back, feeling for the first time a presence other than the creatures who lived there or even Deadpool, who was watching from close by.

"Come out, Colin," she called out. "I know it's you."

The young boy came out of hiding from the fringes of the Forbidden Forest, watching her with a deep anger in his blue eyes. She looked over to him, still dressed as he had been when he died during the battle that had claimed his life. School robes and a blast mark in the middle of his chest.

"Why did you have to involve my brother?" he demanded.

"There were questions only he could answer," she replied. "You know that as well as I do."

"Why not come to me? You had already suspected I was responsible for what was happening, you should have come to me!" he raged.

Hermione turned to face him. "You're so angry."

He snorted. "Of course I'm angry! Anyone in my position would be." Studying her a moment. "Shocked that you aren't right pissed."

She shrugged. "I am, but unlike you it's something else I'm pissed at."

"What?" he asked. "What has the great Hermione Granger angry?"

"First, I'm not the great anything," Hermione corrected him. She walked closer to him. "And I'm angry over the fact that a boy that I thought was a sweet, loving and good person let his anger and resentment overrule his sanity to lead him into doing the one thing I never thought he would ever do—murder."

His eyes narrowed. "What I did wasn't murder. It was justice."

"They weren't on the master reapers list!" she roared. "You aren't Fate! It wasn't your place to decide that it was their time to die." Hermione stopped yelling and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "Why now? Can you at least tell me that much? It's been fourteen years since the end of the war and another six since you left Locksley."

He looked out to the lake and sighed, "At first I was fine with passing on. Our side won and I got to fight on that side if only for a short time." Colin looked over to Hermione. "The Fates decided that I should become a reaper once I crossed over. They thought I would be a good reaper for those out in the world that would be intimidated by death." He kneeled down and picked up a stone studying it, as he kept speaking. "I was good at my work. I helped people over their fear of death and I did a good turn by them to allow them to leave notes to their loved ones where and when it was possible." He looked at her. "But then I noticed it. Everyone I knew was growing up, getting older, and moving on in the world." He stood up. "Soon they had wives and children and here I was poor dead Colin Creevey with nothing and no one other than a job to reap those still allowed to live." He threw the stone angrily. "It wasn't fair! But then…" He bowed his head down, clutching his fists. "…then I saw what was happening with all those bullies from my Fifth year at Locksley. They were so fucking happy with their little homes and their little wives and their little children…" He looked at her resentment darkening his eyes. "They would throw my food to the ground and made me eat it while they made farm noises. They would tell me that I was no better than a farm animal! And that was on a good day."

"It still wasn't your place to do as you did, Colin," she told him quietly.

"They lost their right to live by treating me and my brother like garbage!" He picked up a larger rock and it changed into a scythe, but not just any scythe, but the scythe of the first reaper. Solid and proud it stood feet over Colin's head. "And you, why couldn't you have just passed by me! What did I do to earn an early death?!"

"Nothing," she murmured, her voice laced with sympathy. "It was your time, Colin. It's as simple as that."

He sneered at her words. "Why you? Why did you have to be the one to come after me? I would have thought it was Harry."

"No, you got me, as it's my job in this instance," she told him. "Harry retired his position to me."

"You probably made him!" he snarled.

She shook her head no. "Harry had more than enough of the job and asked me, dare I say, nearly was begging for me to take it. And given how this spot of trouble has been going on, I really couldn't blame him for not wanting anything to do with this work anymore."

"Liar!" He swung the scythe, burying it straight into her belly and right through her back.

When he tried to pull it out of her, it wouldn't budge. He went closer, but to no use. Soon he was right up next to her, pulling for all he was worth only to have Hermione grabbing him by his tie and standing up straight, as she looked deeply into his eyes.

"You don't get it do you?" she asked him, as the flesh around the scythe started to vanish. All of her flesh was disappearing in both directions, leaving nothing but bone in its wake. "I'm not a representative of death now. I haven't been just a representative since I gained the Deathly Hallows from Harry Potter." The scythe dropped into her skeletal hand and she stood it up straight, never looking away from Colin's fear filled face. "I'm not a representative, Mr. Creevey." She leaned down as her face went to bone and her amber eyes vanished, leaving empty, black sockets. "I…" She turned the scythe, "…am…" pressed the sharp blade to the underside of his neck, "…Death."

His death scream sent the ravens in the nearby trees into flight.

…

Hermione stood overlooking the Black Lake with the scythe in her hand and still looking like a skeleton. She felt a cloth covered hand slip into hers. Turning she looked over to Deadpool standing next to her.

"So are you going to keep this look?" he asked her.

Smiling, she told him, "I will as long as I hold this scythe, I think." She looked at her hand holding the scythe. "It's not working for me."

"You make being skeletal look good." Deadpool then looked at where her ass would have been, not to mention her breasts and added, "But I miss your lady lumps though."

Laughing she said, "Let's get this someplace safe and well away from me then, shall we?"

"The sooner the better!"

TBC…

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And there goes another chapter into the award's ceremony that is the Internet. Thank you for reading and I hope that you're all having a jubilating day!