Hellhound is back on track with a new HP story! I welcome you all for this new story, and all things considered, I promise that this time things will fall better in place. Just a little warning: this story will contain bashing, so please come on with that in mind, although I won't be as harsh as before. With that in mind, thanks a lot for your interest and have a good read.

DISCLAIMER: HP does not belong to me.

Dear Reader, have you ever seen a dead body?

A cold, unmoving, pale body of a person that is no more in this world. Passed on, a person that is no more, ceasing to be, expired and gone to see its maker? Stiff, beret of life, resting in peace? Whose metabolic processes are now history, offed the twig, kicked the bucket, shuffled of its mortal coil, run down the curtain and joined the bleeding choir invisible? An ex-person?

I already saw my fair shares of dead bodies, of corpses; my cohorts, my closest friends, my deadliest enemies, people who were in the wrong place at the wrong time, people who were right where I wanted them to be and many more. Some deserved, others… Deserved less than death, but got it anyway because screw them, stepping stones have no right to be more than stepping stones…

With that said, I'd never guessed that my final vision of a corpse would be my own…

GELLERT GRINDELWALD

1883~1998

UNFORGETTABLE FELLOW, NO MATTER HOW MUCH WE WANT OTHERWISE

Yeyup, that's me: Gellert Grindelwald, the so-called darkest wizard who ever lived by those who couldn't see beyond their prejudice and vision, who just wanted a better place for my kin and their children, even if those visions had a few stepping stones in the middle, and by 'stepping stones', I refer to some corpses in the middle. Betrayed and defeated by my dearest friend Albus, living in seclusion in my own prison for fifty years, only to be killed by that dark Lord wizardkin supremacist-wannabe Tom Riddle. Truly, such a fitting end for a failure such as myself. At least they were kind enough to give my body a proper burial, certainly a suggestion from my late dearest friend Albus, because I know for sure that they would otherwise shove my carcass into a random vault and leave it be like how it happened to that blasted foolish cod Tom Voldemort…

So here I am, facing my own burial ground that has nothing but dust and dirt. All the other graves have flowers and decorations brighter than any sun and more colorful than the rainbow, yet for the old dark wizard, nothing but memories that are better left forgotten. My body is no longer tired or scarred from a life of broken promises, failures and finally death; my mind is as light as a feather in the midsummer wind; and for once in the longest time, I crave some companionship from my dearest Albus, something that I know I won't ever get since his death, even in the afterlife. As he used to say: 'For a well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure', so it is for a fact that even in our ethereal form, I would be left behind to mourn my own pathetic self as he would move on from this world and become something more, something greater than even someone like him could ever be…

But, oh well, what to do now? For as regretful as my life was, no point turning into a ghost, as my own existence would wither alongside my ghastly self, and little by little I would forget who or what I was, and turn into nothing but an embarrassing shadow of who once was Gellert Grindenwald. However, rest is also something that I can't expect. I don't follow muggle's idea of a God or the afterlife, but whoever turns the wheel of destiny and controls the strings of our existences won't probably be merciful to me, who has mountains of corpses on his back…

For all of my ingenious mind, I could've at least done something meaningful in my several years in imprisonment: maybe wrote a book with cryptic riddles and ominous conversations only a mind as brilliant and as insane as mine would be able to think of a decipher… Only to be nothing but ominous nonsense and gibberish, as historians would come and go trying to understand the dark message left by the darkest dark wizard who ever lived, only for the spirit of the same to laugh his arse off in their futile attempt to understand nothing at all, and dread what could possibly mean. That could've been fun, and would help me pass the monotony of the afterlife, but, oh well, I guess I was so frantically afraid of death, I never would've guessed how empty it really is…

Oh well, but I did have a reason to fear death, and trying to conquest it: In the end, this is what I have become. An invisible, intangible, pathetic literal shadow of my old self, facing my own burial ground with nothing but regret and sadness in his heart, waiting for something to happen, yet at the same time, dreading that several years of sins and failures might catch up to me in the worst way possible, and worst of all… All alone. No friends, no family, no Albus, just my own thoughts and the silent.

'Well, well, well. Growing a conscious after all those years? How unlikely for a Dark Wizard. But then again, Death has that effect on people…'

"Huh…?" I turn my head as the silence is broken in the deserted, forgotten grave that is my own. I may look composed, but to have my undead senses disturbed when I thought it wasn't possible threw my mind into overdrive. What could've possibly disturbed me in my misery? I look around searching for an answer, only to land my eyes on a dark, tall sillhoute standing right besides my own grave, obscuring everything else under its dark cloak. I close one of my eyes. Could it be… "You… Identify yourself, stranger."

'I have many names…'

"Pick one."

'Son of a… Okay, fine. You can call me Death. The one who calls.' The strange figure suddenly shifts its position from completely straight to bending to me, as if trying to stare directly into my eyes. A shiver runs down my undead spine, but for some reason, my heartrate is stable. I am still surprised by its appearance, but couldn't say I wasn't expecting it. So this is how it is, death, then afterlife. I sigh under my breath…

"So… You're death. I must say, for someone of your caliber, I expected someone… Taller." I jest if only to alleviate the tension between Death and I, and to my surprise, the tall, dark figure chuckled under its breath. Huh, maybe it isn't a bad way to go for Gellert Grindelwald, having a laugh with death, it is almost poetic in a way. I turn to the side opposing the ender of life, and shrugged to myself. "Well, what are you waiting for, reaper of souls? Take me to the afterlife and do whatever the One Above has stored for me. For all of my shortcomings, I shall accept you as a man of my own Honour and greet you as a friend, not as an enemy, or an answer."

'Hahahah… It's funny how you paraphrase Him of all people as your parting words. You're such a figure, Mr. Dark Lord.' I hear yet another chuckle coming from It, but this time the intentions behind it getting blurrier. Suddenly, I feel a cold presence coming closer, but before I could react, something reaches for my shoulder to rest a cold, skeletal hand. I turn to it, but then another dark shadow comes from my opposite side to face me. I saw nothing under the dark cloak, only the darkness, but I feel, I could feel it… It was smiling at me. 'You see, whatever you think of me as of now or aftermore, I don't care. However, don't you think that your role in this world has ended as of yet, my darling. I have… Plans for you.'

"…" A dry gulp slurs down my throat, but then a cough and a shrug. Gellert Grindelwald might be million things, but a coward is not one of them. For all of my sins, repentance or punishment is what awaits me by the other side, and nothing else. "Very well, Death. Take me to where you want and do your 'plans' on me. I already prepared myself to face my wrongdoings, all for the Greater Good™. What is death, but the next great adventure…"

'Punishment… Repentance… You overestimate me, Mr. Dark Lord. I am just following orders, death is nothing but the end of a cycle. I do nothing but to follow orders from Above.' The dark cloaked figure laughed, pointing a skeletal, slender finger to the above, proving that there is indeed something Greater than itself, than magic could ever see. It chuckled, and rested its hand once again on my shoulder. 'But let us not talk about such depressing topics in that matter, Gellert dear. For the orders regarding you are… Unique, to say the least.'

"Oh-hoh? How so? To the Greater Forces to choose me… I feel honored." I jest once more, sarcasm practically dripping from my mouth. Even so, the one who calls himself death could only laugh as if I told him a joke that was mildly amusing. Regardless, his words tickled my curiosity. Albus, is this how you envisioned Death itself?

'Gellert dear, this world… Has forgot to die. Every year, every generation, they find new ways to avoid death, something that it is natural for all creatures. First, the three brothers, and now their descendants, and every generation, a new discovery in order to avoid the unavoidable. A real pain in the arse, I must say…' Death started to describe, a hand in the air as if telling a tale. Suddenly, it turned to me, and pushed a finger into my chest, where my heart should be. 'And so, every so often, the One Above choose someone in order to… Rectify this. Lovely Helen, cute but brutish Attila, dear Adolf, solemn Joseph, smart Mao, gluttonous Shiro-chan and, my personal favorite, the greater-than-great Alexander. The thing is, my dear Gellert, the world is getting smaller and the people are getting too arrogant with Death now, so maybe sending someone to… Put order is necessary in this generation. And who else to do that than you, Mr. Dark Lord?'

"Dark Lord? You stroke my ego with silky hands, but this title no longer belongs to me." I sigh to myself, remembering the last person to see me in life, the Darkest wizard who ever lived, dethroning me from such title, not that I care. "If you want someone to deal with mortals, why not my superior successor, the one who calls himself Voldemort?"

'Ah, but for what is to fear Death, if the one delivering it fears it more than anything else? Darling Tom had a mind as bright as yours, but his soul… Not salvageable, for even the core was as rotten as the walking carcass that carried it. You, on the other hand… Is just what I was looking for.' It started to tap my shoulder with its slender fingers, as if growing impatience with my questioning. 'Look, you want the job or not? Death might be patient and soft, but it is busy too. I know you, dear Gellert, so I already know your answer, but Death is smart and fair too, so make your mind and say it yourself.'

"…" I grow quiet, disrespecting Death's wish for hurry, but not as a sign of defiance, but of deep thoughts. Gellert Grindelwald, to return to the mortal plane as a herald of death and destruction, just like his previous incarnation was? Who knew something like that was even possible, and not out of charity or pity from the One Above, but to… balance the world and its inhabitants. Truly, the One Above thinks in mysterious ways, or maybe it is death tricking me like it did with the Three Brothers. Even so… To return, and regain my reign for the Greater Good, now without Albus, Tom and my biggest obstacle being the Boy of the Prophecy Harry Potter, who might now be like any other wizard after forsaking the Elder Wand… Yes, for all the power he carries, he won't be a match for me, and yet again… I turn to one who calls himself Death. "What are my conditions, Reaper?"

'None, go nuts on them, darling Gellert. Death does not discriminate nor care, if it has its share. Animals, plants, wizards, magical creatures or No-majs, doesn't matter, they are all equal in death, and you will be the one to remember them of that…' I couldn't see anything under its cloak, but I knew for a fact such: it was smiling. 'But if you want a condition, I shall present you one: since you'll probably face him, I want you to kill… The descendant of the Third Brother, Harry Potter. Show him that, no matter what, You. Don't. F-ck. With. Death.'

"I see…" I murmur to myself, smiling. It seems that even the Great Death can hold grudges. I shrugged to myself… to kill the boy-who-lived and in return, have my own memories and dreams intact, and now, with no Albus on my side to hinder our… My objective, not to mention, I heard that Scamander lad had a family during my absence... I'd be... Much more delighted to find them and take my time to get reacquantainced with them... All of them. Sounds nice, so I turned to the reaper of Souls, and handed him my hand. "Very well, Reaper. I accept your conditions. To be revived, and then destroy the world alongside the descendant of the one who mocked you. Sounds like a deal."

'Hahahah, how nice, how nice. You're a cookie, dear Gellert.' Death laughed at me, as it took my hand and, suddenly, I felt myself being engulfed by the light. It wasn't cold, it wasn't lonely anymore, the light was… Warm and approachable, like I was being embraced by a fair maiden of massive tracks of land. In the end, I could only close my eyes and be taken by death to my new destination.

Albus maybe was right: to a well-reserved mind, Death is but the next great adventure…

…

…

11 years later…

"Marx! Darling, guess what! Your admission letter from Hogwarts! It came! It finally came!"

"Okay! Coming, mother!"

And thus, the Dark Lord returns…