Chapter 30
Mistress Time
The sky was the first thing that Harry noticed. It was a blend of every possible moment that mixed together seamlessly. To the far left the sky had the pinks and light blues of dawn that swirled into a pure light blue of morning then a true blue for day that darkened in the afternoon, becoming a colorful swirl of reds and oranges and pinks for the evening, and ending in a black night sky filled with stars. The sun and moon were both out, moving in a complex yet stable dance as they moved from one end of the sky to the other.
Harry looked away from the sky to finally look around his surroundings. The grass around them looked unnaturally green with hedges forming a sort of perimeter around them. In the middle, looking rather ordinary, was a building. It was a large white office building with no markings or unique fixtures except for windows and two doors at the bottom, which a sidewalk led to with rosebushes on either side. Death led Harry down the pathway and opened the door for him, ushering Harry into the building.
It looked like a regular office. They entered into a huge room that was split into many cubicles with small skinny pathways between them. At first glance, Harry saw people in the cubicles typing away at computers that looked more advanced than anything he saw before, both in his current time and old present. Flat screens attached to two old typewriters which the workers all typed on with one hand on each. It seemed very uncomfortable at first, however, the more Harry stared at the workers, a sense of dreading fear filled him. They looked humanoid at first glance, everyone wearing muggle business suits. However, at further inspections, Harry could see their more alien qualities.
Their hands were longer with large skeletal-like fingers that were powder-white, as though drained of color or yet to be filled. On each hand was seven fingers and they moved quicker than Harry could keep track or, each hand working one typewriter. Harry looked slowly up the worker's body, and he had to hold back a scream when he reached the face. There was no hair at all, or anything really. Instead, the face was white like flour, again looking drained of any color and extremely smooth. There were no eyes, ears, mouth, or nose. No wrinkles or imperfections of the skin. It was just a flat smooth surface drained of pigmentation and life staring endlessly at the screen in front of it.
"Are they alive?" Harry asked.
"Of course they are," Death said. "They're Time's grunts, they do the most boring of tasks. Paperwork that nobody else would want."
"Then what are they?" Harry asked, feeling a sudden chill. "Where are their faces?"
"I told you, boy, they are Time's grunts," Death chuckled. "Why should they have faces?" He laughed at Harry's horror and continued on. Harry stood for a second before running to catch up with Death. He kept his eyes straight forward, too scared of looking anywhere else. The room was just as expressionless and empty as its workers with undecorated walls and no superfluous furniture in sight. There was only one doorway, and when they reached it, Harry saw that it only led to a stairway. Death chuckled and looked at Harry. "One by one," he said. "We must go through and see Time's lovely experiments one by one. Keep up."
They climbed the stairs and stepped onto the second floor. It looked more or less the same as the first floor with more of the strange, creepy figures working away silently and mindlessly at the screens in front of them. The work on their screens looked a little more complex than those on the previous floor. Still, it was unnatural to Harry how the only sound in the room was the endless typing. The endless small clicking of buttons, joining together in a chorus of noise that invaded Harry's head and sent a shiver down his spine. He followed Death, once more looking straight in front of him and nowhere else.
At the end of the long room was yet another single door which had a staircase leading to the third floor. Once more, Harry and Death climbed up, and once more they saw the strange faceless creatures typing away for eternity on the third floor.
Harry steeled himself for the same as they entered the fourth floor, only to stop. It was the same layout of cubicles, however instead of typing, there was silence. No, that was a lie Harry realized as he stopped and focused his eyes. There was a hum, a low electronic hum coming from every single cubicle. Harry glanced at Death, who did not stop or slowed and decided to risk looking into a nearby cubicle.
It was filled with the strange humanoid creature, dressed in the same business suit Harry saw countless times. However, it looked less white, or at least less drained than the others. Its skin held very little color, only a hint, but Harry's attention immediately went to the creature's face. It had eyes. Two large eyes that stared unblinking, too big to be human but too small to be anything else. The eyes stared at the screen, which was larger than the other screens down below as its hands worked on turning knobs all around it. Harry looked at the screen and frowned. On the screen was a woman dressed in what was clearly hippie clothes from the 1960s. She was walking around, dancing to music Harry could not hear. She kept moving around and dancing—and then the creature turned several knobs and the screen changed instantly. Instead of the woman now, the screen now showed a man with one hand on a book while he held his other hand up, talking. More knobs were turned, and Harry gasped.
He saw Hermione. Hermione Granger, clearly several years older than last he saw her, sitting behind an impressive looking desk which held the Minister of Magic's sigil. The door opened and Harry almost cried as he saw an older Ron walk in. Hermione stood up immediately and the two hugged, giving a little kiss, before both sitting around the desk, Ron putting a basket on top of it and started pulling out food. Hermione's face grew annoyed and Harry couldn't help but give a sad chuckle as he could just imagine how she would scold Ron.
"Harry Potter, you are lagging behind."
Harry forced himself from the screen and wiped away his tears to see Death standing by the door. "What floor is this?" He asked, "I saw—"
"The flow of time," Death said. "The screens show events happening, the everyday life of existence, and what can be. Nothing else."
"Then, they get married? My friends," Harry said hopefully.
"Does it truly matter? Their lives go on, and Time has her fun, but no matter what happens everyone comes to me in the end," Death chuckled gravely. "You are just having an honored visit. Now come along, we are still far from her."
Harry nodded and followed as Death led on, glancing every now and again at the cubicles, making sure to look only at the screens and not the creatures watching them. He expected that the next floor would be the same. Silence except for the humming of the screens as the eyed creatures switched from one event to the next. He was right and moved quickly with Death to the sixth floor, where Harry stopped once more.
There was noise. Actual noise coming from the cubicles! Harry immediately went to the nearest cubicle to see that the set up was the same as the previous two floors. The creatures, however, now looked slightly flushed with skin tones. Still deathly pale, yes, however, Harry could see that the creature in front of him, if it ever were human, once had bronze skin. Like the previous floor, the creature had eyes that were too big for Harry's liking, however now Harry stared at the sides of the head, where two ears jot out just as deathly pale as the rest of the body. It continued to move the knobs around it endlessly as time played out on the screen.
Harry found himself staring at the screen as well, watching what was happening.
Two men were arguing, screaming at each other at the top of their lungs. Harry could feel the tension from them radiate from the screen. Their language got louder and coarse until suddenly one man pulled out a gun and Harry jumped at the sound of the gunshot. "No!" Harry yelled, "We have to help him!" But the creature next to him did not react. It just watched as the gunman stared at what he did and screamed in shock before putting the gun on himself. "No!"
A gun blast shot off just as the creature turned a knob. "Put it back—put it back!" But the creature did not move. Instead, Harry felt a coldness behind him and turned to see Death's empty face. "It just watched two people die," he whispered.
"I know," Death said. "As I said, Harry, this is the flow of time, there is nothing to be done. I will always happen, no matter the timeline." His pale hand reached out and turned a few knobs himself. The screen changed again, and both took a moment to watch.
It was Hogwarts, but Hogwarts was a war. Jets of light flew in every direction and Percy Weasley was fighting a man who backed off, fast: his hood slipped, and they saw a high forehead and streaked hair—
"Hello, Minister!" Percy bellowed, sending a neat jinx straight at the man, who dropped his wand and clawed at the front of his robes, apparently in awful discomfort. "Did I mention I'm resigning?"
"You're joking, Perce!" shouted Fred Weasley as the Death Eater he was battling collapsed under the weight of three separate Stunning Spells. The Minister had fallen to the ground with tiny spikes erupting all over him; he seemed to be turning into some form of sea urchin. Fred looked at Percy with glee.
"You actually are joking, Perce. ...I don't think I've ever heard you joke since you were—"
The air exploded. Everyone was pushed back as screams filled the air. Harry heard a terrible cry that pulled at his insides, that expressed agony of a kind neither flame nor curse could cause. The two redheaded men were grouped together.
"No—no—no!" someone was shouting. "No! Fred! No!"
And Percy was shaking his brother and Fred's eyes stared without seeing, the ghost of his last laugh still etched upon his face.
"NO!" Harry roared, swinging his hand at Death. "NO!" He was crying, shaking violently. "He can't be dead! Don't you dare take him!"
"I take everyone in the end, Harry Potter," Death said, his gravelly voice sounding too cold in that moment. "Your friend's life ended at that moment, the culmination of that life's events. Both under and out of his control."
"You're lying!" Harry cried. "He's alive, he has to be!"
"I am not, in one line of time, Fred Weasley died on the second of May, in Nineteen-hundred-and-ninety-eight. In another, Fred Weasley dies sooner, while in a third he may yet live a much longer span before I come to collect him once more," Death said. "It does not matter what you do, you can only delay me." Harry glared at the entity through tearful eyes. Death continued to stare then looked back at the screen, which now showed a classroom learning their letters. "If it pleases you, you are not living the current timeline where the man dies on that day."
Harry sniffled and shook his head. "I won't be pleased until we reach Time," he said. "Let's go." He forced himself to walk away from the cubicle and squeezed his eyes shut to get Fred Weasley's lifeless face out of his mind.
They traveled on, climbing floor upon floor and Harry noticed that with each floor, the creatures looked more and more filled out. From the sixth to the ninth floor, it was the same department. The creatures only had eyes and ears watching their screens as the flow of time went on in every direction.
They reached the tenth floor, and Harry was now accustomed to the noise. However, now it seemed different. There was no electronic hum in the background, no cranks of turned knobs, or typing of typewriters. Instead, between the voices, Harry could hear pages turning. This was a completely new department—and Harry ran to see what new changes happened to the creatures. Their skin looked almost normal now, reddening with life as it had its head down, staring at the large book in front of it. Harry had to bend to see that the creatures now had mouths. Small thin mouths with enough teeth and a tongue to speak properly in every language imaginable. The one that Harry picked was speaking in Italian while the one directly next to it read in Spanish. Harry was curious to what they were reading so as he followed Death through this floor, he waited until he heard English. It was by the end of the floor when he finally picked up on the language and ran off to the cubicle, Death following.
The creature kept reading, never stopping as he went on and on with large litigation that Harry could not understand. "The flow of time is, as expected, an immense sea that ever expands in every direction as each new opportunity and chance presents itself, all happening and all not happening in singularity. The presence of the multiple singularities keep time's flow ever-changing and steady as they—"
"What is he reading?" Harry asked.
"Law," Death muttered. "Time's own personal laws and codes that she changes constantly. Her pets here are the ones suffering the most. Always reading and memorizing new states and laws of the flow of time, always having to learn it perfectly. Or else…"
"Or else what?" Harry asked, swallowing heavily. Death just laughed. He reached towards his hood and for a moment Harry thought he was going to take it off only to grab where Harry assumed his mouth would be and rip it off. Death laughed once more at Harry's shock and moved on. "Three more floors, come along boy."
Harry swallowed and nodded. He took several breaths as they climbed the stairs and steeled himself for whatever horror they would find next. It was an office, a normal-looking office. With color and windowed cubicles. Harry glanced inside and gasped to see people, actual people. They had no nose, like all of Time's employees, however, they had everything else, and their bodies no longer looked deathly pale or white. Instead, they all looked healthy and varied as they typed at their typewriters or watched the screen in front of them. Harry watched, in awe, as one creature watched the screen before using its seven fingers to hold a pen, wrote something in a language that Harry couldn't begin to recognize, before standing from its seat and walked towards another cubicle and handed the note.
"Time management," Death said as a way of explanation. "They make sure that the flow of time goes uninterrupted—unless Time interrupts it herself."
They walked through the office and Harry was just overwhelmed by the color of everything. It all seemed so normal now, so mundane. It wasn't until the end, where there was a second door that Harry frowned and stopped. He went to the second door and opened it hesitantly. Weapons from almost every era past, present, and future were neatly organized. He frowned and looked up at Death, "What do they need weapons for?" he asked.
"To manage time," Death said simply and left it at that. Harry swallowed and closed the door. He gave it a final glance as he saw the same creature who stood up go into the room. There was one more level of time management that the two walked through before, at the end, instead of a normal staircase there was a spiraled staircase with red-carpeted stairs.
"She's waiting," Death said ominously, and proceeded to climb the stairs. Harry felt his heart drop as nerves began to develop. He shook himself and took a breath as he began to climb. The stairway was longer than the others, up and up they went spiraling almost endlessly. There were times where Harry thought they were making no progress as when he looked up or down, he was no closer to the next door and no farther away from the one they left.
Death became irritated at this and stopped. "Stay your games woman! I am weary!" There was no response, however after a moment Death continued on with Harry. The door suddenly came upon them and opened by itself.
They were in a large office that was highly decorated. In the air tiny crystal balls floated around, glittering beautifully in the light as screens and books filled the walls, along with several rather famous paintings that Harry remembered hearing about being 'lost' once upon a time. The main attraction of the room, however, was a large wide desk with a woman sitting behind it, looking highly amused. "Death, I still see you're wearing those filthy rags I gave you a millennium ago. And you said you hated me."
Time was a beautiful woman. She had dark brown skin with jade eyes. Her hair was kept in a tight bun and was the color of lilac. She smiled, her lips a deep red and from her ears, she wore pocket watches as earrings. She was wearing a business dress suit with extremely long and thick shoulder pads; the suit was a multitude of colors that swirled around and drifted as Time moved, as though she was wearing an ever-expanding and contracting universe of color. Her eyes fell upon Harry and smirked, standing up fully at what Harry knew was over eight feet. "Hello Harry Potter," she said, "you are just in time." She laughed at her own joke. Harry and Death did not laugh.
"Anyway, what is it that I can do for you boy? I have to say that I'm a little surprised to see you here," Time said. She walked around her desk and Harry saw that her skirt went down to her knees, the cosmos in it moving and flowing with a fill of its own. She leaned against her desk and crossed her legs, bringing Harry's attention to her shoes. He thought, for a moment, that they would be like another cosmos or time-related. However, instead, they were a simple pair of red heels with a tall, skinny end. "Like my shoes boy? Prada, I got them in the early Nineties. Ninety-three, ninety-four I can't remember," she grinned at Harry who just nodded. "So what can I do for you?" she asked again. "Are you here to thank me for your little gift?"
"Gift? Do you mean my necklace?" Harry asked, bringing it out.
"Yeah, a pretty good piece of jewelry myself if I do say so," Time smiled. "You won't be surprised at how easy it is to get bored around here! So I fill my time learning many different hobbies, jewelry being one of them."
Harry looked at his necklace then shook his head. "No! That's not why I am here. Time, I need to know, why did you mess with my life? Why did you take me from my normal present and thrust me into the past?"
Time blinked and frowned for a moment. "Oh that," she said. "I already told you why," she shrugged. "It's way too easy to get bored in here at times."
Harry stared at her in utter disbelief. "You mean," he said, swallowing the knot that appeared in his throat. "You took me away from my friends, away from the life I knew and everyone I loved… because you were BORED!?"
"Yeah, exactly, funny innit?" Time smiled, faking a cockney accent. Harry saw red. He felt anger quickly grow inside him, and he let out a frustrated scream. "MY FRIENDS! MY LIFE! EVERYTHING! THEY WERE GOING TO DIE—WE ALL WERE GOING TO DIE! AND YOU TOOK ME AWAY BECAUSE YOU WERE BORED!?"
"Don't you dare yell at me, little boy!" Time yelled back. She pushed herself from her desk and glared at Harry. "Don't you dare forget whose office you're in, boy! I had my reasons for why I did what I did—you just have to accept it." She walked past Death and Harry and looked into the air. She snapped her fingers and one of the crystal balls floated down, landing in her outstretched hand. "But since you made the effort to get here, I'll let you in on a little secret," she said. Time moved to her office and knocked twice on it.
A contraption opened in the middle where the crystal ball could fit in perfectly. The contraption had a lens which aimed at the biggest screen on the wall. Harry felt his rage leave him with every breath as he watched the orb begin to spin in its holder, the lens flickering. "What is that?" he asked.
"It shows me anytime I want to see," Time said. "Right now, we're going to take a peek into your life if I haven't intervened." The screen before them spurred to life and Harry felt very odd watching himself. He was in Myrtle's bathroom with Draco Malfoy and Harry cast a curse that almost killed Abraxas's grandson, only to be saved by Snape. Guilt strangely flooded Harry at that. Then his life moved on, faster, as he watched himself and his endless lessons with Dumbledore… going to a cave where he forced Dumbledore to drink poison only to get a locket, Slytherin's Locket, from the bottom of a basin. … Dumbledore's death and the war afterward. Death, so much death. Hedwig, Moody, Dobby, Fred… Remus and Tonks and so much more. Harry once again felt tears fall from his eyes as he saw their lifeless bodies. He kills Voldemort, at least, which breaks Harry's heart but then life moved on. He was shocked to see that he married Ginny, and though they had children, the older Harry looked unhappy, very unhappy. Scenes changed from home to bars or in his office with a drink in hand. This older Harry looked around shifty, he brought men into alleyways and bathrooms in order to have his fill. Harry had enough and he looked away.
"What was that?" he demanded. "Why did I marry Ginny? Why was I a drunk looking for cheap fucks? What game are you playing at?"
"The only games I play are ones I know I'll win at," Time said. "As for what you say, that is your life if you have stayed where you were, a pawn on a board bending to everyone's expectations. Everyone expected you to have a high school sweetheart, a cute girl whom you to marry and Ginny Weasley was there. You were already friends, and she did have that crush on you. It worked but after a while, you found that you were never really happy. That boy you wanted found another boy, and they went on their merry life while you were left stuck, feeling completely helpless. So you took to the drink, and soon after the casual sex. Both alleviating you in the moment but leaving you worse off than you were. It was a truly miserable, and truly utterly boring life for you. I just couldn't bear it! To think that something so boring and so… heteronormative would be in for a fabulous boy like you. You see, I had no choice but to intercede." Time chuckled.
"You had no right," Harry said. "It was my life! And I would never do that to Ginny! She's my best friend's sister!"
"The you who you are right now would never, but the you you were before? Can you still speak for him?" Time asked. Harry had no answer for her. He just looked down, frowning slightly. Time sighed and lifted Harry's head with her fingers, "Don't be so hard on yourself, boy," she said. "Look at how colorful and interesting your life is now! You even have stolen our friend Death a few souls before they could even be born! Why just watching you go, I feel like I need a snack just to munch on." She laughed once more and moved back to her seat, sitting down. "And the progress you will make! I must admit, I spoiled myself a little and skipped to the ending, and my boy I can say that the results are simply fabulous! You have truly outdone yourself."
Harry frowned and looked at the screen which was now a still of an older Harry looking worn and tired. "It still wasn't right," he whispered. "You have no business to interfere just because you are bored."
"I'm sorry—so you're saying you want to go back and become that sad drunken loser?" Time asked.
"No, I am not saying that at all," Harry said. He looked at the picture and frowned. "That man will never exist. Harry Potter will grow up to be who he is, love who he loves, and marry that love!"
"And that is exactly what you're doing boy, all thanks to me," Time said. "So I believe the words you are looking for is, 'Thank you Mistress Time.'"
Harry shook his head. "You're wrong," he said. "You just dropped me in the past. Everything that followed was strictly because of my actions. Or are you about to tell me that you have a department that I haven't seen where you have your workers write out people's lives?"
"No, but that is a good idea," Time muttered.
"Don't, it will only annoy the rest of us," Death warned. Time just stuck her tongue out at him.
Harry cleared his throat and stepped towards Time's desk. "You did nothing," he said. "I did everything. The man on the screen is dead, he will never exist because I am here, me, Harry Peverell. I appeared in Nineteen Forty-Three, and from there I worked to build my new life, find my new identity, and even seduce the Dark Lord himself, Lord Voldemort. I am happy and proud of who I am, and who I will become. I've tortured and hurt people to reach this point. Poisoned others and is willing and eager to do so again. I am looking forward to shaping the future into a reality where that little boy—" he pointed at the screen and the older Harry quickly changed into a picture of Harry from when he was only eleven— "will be free to be the most brilliant, most beautiful, and gayest version of himself that he can be. And do you know who I have to thank for that? For all the hard work I will put into making it? Myself. I don't care if I have to murder, maim, or even deal with your workers themselves. I will take control of my life and my reality, and I will steer the course of time in the direction that I want, and I won't let anything get in my way. I know who I am in this moment, and for the rest of my life. My name is Harry Peverell, and I am the fucking husband to the Dark Lord Voldemort!" He took a breath, surprised at how passionate he became. Harry took a half step back and stood taller, "So all I have to say to you, is thanks for meddling. Goodbye."
Harry turned to leave, taking equal steps towards the door. Time and Death stood in shock. Death gave a low gravelly laugh and looked at Time who just stared at Harry. "Humans," he chuckled, "such interesting creatures." Time just stared at Harry; her arms crossed. She scoffed and waved her hand dismissively.
"Don't take him away too early," she muttered, "I don't want to be bored." Death just laughed once more and turned around, turning into mist before appearing once more in front of Harry.
"I've done my duty, you are no longer my master," Death said.
"Have I ever been?" Harry asked. He shook his head, "Come on, I would like to go home now."
Death nodded and reached the door before Harry. He opened it and the two walked through. They did not go to the stairway as Harry expected. Instead, he was surprised to see that they were back in the destroyed study with everything in the same exact place as they left it. Death led Harry to the spot where he was standing before everything froze. Death lingered for a moment, looking around.
"I have to ask, are you satisfied now? Knowing the truth?" he asked.
"That I was a product of boredom? No," Harry said, "However, my curiosity is now sated." He sighed and looked at the wand. "I'm going to give this to Tom," he said. "He deserves it, and I did promise it to him as his lover."
"It means nothing to me, in the end, I always claim my wand's owners," Death said. Harry just hummed.
"Okay, then until then," He said.
"Until your death," Death nodded.
Harry chuckled, "No, until Samhain," he said. "Where I'll be summoning you once more."
"What for? What else do you wish to take from me?" Death demanded. Harry just shrugged.
"I don't know now, just thought you could use a friend," he said. "Besides, if everything works out, you will become extremely busy letting wizards speak with their loved ones who departed. Would be nice to have someone to just want to check in on you."
Death just stared at Harry. "I will never understand humans," he muttered and like an evaporating fog, he vanished and Harry's life continued.
A/N: To be completely honest, I am completely happy with this chapter. And if I was a troll, I would end this here. It seems like a good ending. However, we still have a few chapters left to tie up some loose ends.
Miss-Nails-Black: Yay I succeeded! And no, Death never promised to bring Harry to his original time, just to meet Time, which they did.
Oof: Thanks! I'm happy you're finding Grindelwald super creepy. I never liked him myself.
TheiaSalazarRiddle: Uhh no, I never said that it was going to end in last chapter. Just that we are the beginning of the end, as in the story is about to wrap up. Harry's staying in his new life, because after all, he is the husband of Lord Voldemort.