AN: A shorter chapter than the last few, I know, but it seemed to end fairly well where it did. Now, some people may have noticed that I've laced this story with a few threads that could lead into further cross-overs. I have been contemplating, when this fic finishes, writing a few off-shoots that end in other worlds. Like, if there was an accident with Hermione's time turner (as happened in my first ever fic, Fate's Gamble), and Harry and Hermione ended up in the Naruto-verse, or something like that. I've left something in this chapter that could lead to Harry being in the Warcraft-verse (Though I'm far more familiar with Warcraft 3 than I am World of Warcraft), and some other things. There's also a way for me to end up crossing this with the Legacy of Kain series, if I so wished. Now, while that's not happening right now, I do take influences from lots of sources, so don't be surprised if you see something a bit familiar. Also, because I've ben asked 'what's a clanger?' so many times, it's a character from an early seventies show called 'the Clangers', go look it up if you want to see what they look like. It's not really important, it was just an amusing thought I had.
Beta'd by: NIX'S WARDEN
Chapter 16 – 'Ware the Reaper
Albus Dumbledore, his hands clasped on the desk in front of him, looked around at his teachers. Most of them were already here, they were in fact only waiting for Aurora, Severus, and Sybill, and the wards told Dumbledore they would be here shortly.
What the wards weren't telling him, however, was where one Harry Ritter, formerly Potter, was. That was unusual in itself, as his rather unique magical signature normally stood out quite a bit. Two of his familiars' signature's regularly disappeared from the wards too, but because of where they were before they vanished, he had a good idea that they went to the Chamber of Secrets, so at least they were somewhere he was aware of.
Dumbledore knew the boy hadn't left the school via the gates or one of the secret passageways, no, he'd seemingly simply... vanished. Unfortunately, there had been no portraits near that location for Dumbledore to interrogate, and all of the ghosts in the school were proving to be rather tight-lipped regarding anything to do with him.
Dumbledore was worried.
Oh, he didn't overly care that Harry was some sort of undead being, he was a magical being after all, no matter what he was, and magic was slowly dying out. Dumbledore would be an idiot if he discarded any magical being simply due to what they were. Even dark families, such as the Lestranges, Malfoys, Carrows, and the rest were needed, as without them the wizarding population would be even more drastically reduced.
What Dumbledore was most concerned about was the name 'Harry' had chosen once he'd been removed from the Potter family. 'Ritter' might not ring any warning bells in most peoples' minds, but to Dumbledore it was rather too close to a merge of 'Potter' and 'Riddle', and Tom had so loved his word games, his pseudonym, Lord Voldemort, had come from an anagram after all.
Dumbledore looked up and re-focused once all of his staff were in the room. With a disarming, grandfatherly smile, he began.
"The start of a new year, and already our students are full of energy. Now, before I start, is there anything that anyone would like to say?" Dumbledore cheerily asked.
"I've got a question actually." Tiny Professor Flitwick stated. "Remus, did anything unusual happen in your lesson. The students that came to me afterwards seemed rather subdued, and one of them didn't turn up at all, which is rather unusual for that one."
Flitwick did enjoy teaching Harry, because once he'd finished the assigned task, he would often ask for something that wasn't usually on the syllabus or something that was more advanced. Flitwick loved to teach, and being able to instruct and discuss some of the more esoteric charms was quite enjoyable in his opinion.
"Ah, yes, I can see why that'd might happen." Remus seemed a little sheepish. "My first lesson was on boggarts, so they might have still been thinking about their fears and things."
Severus snorted. "And like an idiot you had them confront their boggarts in front of the entire class rather than in private, because obviously they would appreciate their deepest fears and traumas being put on display like that." He drawled, sneering at the werewolf as he did so.
"Boggarts? As a first lesson and with no preparation?" Bathsheba stared at Lupin. "Are you mad, man?! If you were going to do dark creatures, you should probably have started out with something less dangerous, or at least less mentally traumatising. I can imagine some students might have a few rather unpleasant fears, especially considering how many of them are orphans or have single parents."
"I thought that it might help them with that, confronting boggarts and turning them into something you can laugh at is supposed to be good therapy." Lupin admitted.
"Perhaps so, but maybe you should have kept it for a second lesson, after having one on just what boggarts are, hmm?" Dumbledore scolded him. "However, what's done is done, though I feel I must ask, was there any particularly bad or unusual fears?"
"Most of them were standard things, spiders, scary monsters, things like that. I can only think of five that were a little different, and I'm not too sure what a rubber tyre could mean at all." Lupin replied. "The four strange ones were, oddly, from the three Japanese transfers and Harry... Ritter."
"Do you think there's a connection there?" Dumbledore asked, but Remus shook his head.
"I think the four of them know each other, and have done for a while at least, but not because of the girls' boggarts. The Yagami girl had a wheelchair as her boggart, and I've managed to find out that she was once crippled, which explains that at least. She didn't seem too affected by it though." He told them.
"And the other two girls?" Dumbledore questioned.
"The Takamachi girl had herself as a boggart, but she was wearing plain grey clothes, and had something of a lost expression on her face. She held some sort of broken red jewel in her hands. I have no idea what that referred to. The Harlaown girl's fear was stranger though, it was her being hugged by a dark-haired woman." Remus continued.
"Do we have a name for this woman?" Dumbledore asked, but Remus replied in the negative.
"I didn't get a chance to ask her about it. I thought maybe she was being abused at home, and that might have been her mother, but after Harry's boggart, there was a bit of chaos, and I didn't have the opportunity to ask." Remus sighed.
"I'll report that to the DMLE, and we'll see what the investigation uncovers." Dumbledore responded. "Now, what was Mr. Ritter's boggart?"
"A card." Remus replied, confusion clear in his voice. He drew his wand and tapped a quill in his pocket, transfiguring it into the likeness of Harry's boggart. "It looked like this, and I have absolutely no idea what it means. However, I did notice that the three Japanese girls recognised it as well."
"How did Harry respond to seeing that?" Septima asked, her concern for her friend making her slip, addressing Harry a lot more informally than she normally would have in a meeting.
"He conjured a strange sword and attacked it." Remus told her. "I have no clue what exactly the spell he used was, but whatever it was, it destroyed the boggart. All that was left was a small pile of wet mulch that I've put in a bag, but the way the boggart screamed..." Remus shuddered, remembering it. "I've never heard anything like it before." He shook himself, getting back on track. "After that, he fled the room and I haven't seen him since."
Dumbledore sighed. "The wards have no idea where he is either, it's like he suddenly stopped existing, and when I try and track him, even using the book of students, it doesn't work either. I've never heard of such a thing happening before."
"Would his familiars not know where he is?" Mcgonagall asked.
"They refuse to answer." Remus said. "I get the feeling they don't like me very much."
"His familiars are loyal to Harry above all else, Remus, I wouldn't worry about it." Flitwick comforted the man. "If they're not panicking, it's probably safe to assume that the young Mr. Ritter is alright, wherever he is, and we should continue on with things. It's not like he's going to fall behind in classes, I'm already having trouble finding things for him to do when he asks me for something extra."
Dumbledore frowned. "Very well then, that may be for the best. However, if he doesn't turn up in a few days, we really do need to look into things. I know boggarts can be emotionally unsettling, but he can't hide away forever. Now, is there anything else that anyone would like to discuss?"
Pomona Sprout stepped forward "I've got two cases of home sickness, headmaster, but it's being handled in house. Also..."
xxxxx
A slice of a blade cut off the yip of a ghostly grey dog as Harry cut it in two with his Wraith-blade.
Around him, the 'corpses' of numerous spirits slowly dissolved as he focused on the next one to attack him, and the one after that, and the one after that, again and again. He didn't know exactly how long he'd remained on the Astral Plane this time, but he knew it must have been a fair number of hours.
Strangely, he did not grow tired. After all, while he did bring his physical body with him, he was essentially a spirit himself right now, and while spirits could become weighed down mentally, there was no limit to their stamina. Right now, that was both a blessing and a curse, allowing him to keep going and keep his mind blank, yet not letting him become weary enough to need rest.
Driving his Wraith-blade up to the hilt through one more sluagh, Harry turned to face his next opponent, only to see there were none left.
He collapsed onto the cold, bluish-grey coloured grass beneath him. It seemed to almost stroke him, as if it was more than simply plant matter, and with this being the Astral Plane, it likely was.
"Perhaps you should take a small break, master." His shade, which had shadowed him while he remained on the Astral Plane, suggested.
"Perhaps." Harry murmured. "Still, I can't get that... boggart out of my mind. Durandal, such an innocuous form, yet for some reason something in me utterly rejects the damn thing. Logically, I know that I hate it because of what it represents, forever taking Reinforce from me, but this hatred, loathing, and fear of it seems to be far deeper."
"I have no advice to give you, master." The shade responded. "All I can do is speak of what I know, and these 'boggarts' are of the Material Realm, not the Astral Plane. I can give you no insight regarding anything there, and I know little of the Underworld."
"The Underworld?" Harry asked, attempting to take his mind off of his boggart.
"Another layer of reality, like the Astral and Material worlds are, inhabited by beings most often referred to as demons." The shade answered him. "With Planes-walking, you could travel there, but I do not know how advisable such a thing would be. As I said, my knowledge of the Underworld is limited."
"Tell me, what do you know?" Harry requested.
The shade did not reply immediately, probably gathering its thoughts, not that Harry minded.
"The Underworld is a place of extremes. Whereas the Astral Plane is mostly changeless, the Underworld is constantly in flux. What might be a lake of lave one day, may become an obsidian mountain within a few months. It is a place of extremes, having both unforgiving deserts and frozen glaciers, with very few places being anywhere close to 'mild'.
"As for the demons themselves, they're a bit different to Astral spirits. They are born from various things; emotions, concepts, ideas, and a plethora of other abstract things. However, similar origins will always result in the same beings. For example, lust-born demons are almost all some form of succubus, incubus, or yaksha and yakshini. There are variations and off-shoots though, those which become akin to sirens, harpies, and so on.
"These deviations occur due to subtle deviations in the energy that creates them. 'Lust' is not a simple emotion, despite it being relatively simple to define. It can be tainted by envy, longing, jealousy, rage, and so many other things. Only 'pure' lust can give birth to the strongest of succubi."
"Yaksha and Yakshini are... Indian, unless I'm much mistaken." Harry regarded his shade curiously, wondering about its origins before shaking his head. "No matter, what can you tell me about a demon's alignment? Are they all vicious 'monsters', or do they have more depth than that?"
"The latter." His shade told him. "While it is true that the Underworld is a harsh place where only the strongest tend to survive, not all demons are ravenous beasts. There is an infinite range of ways demons can be born, and that means its possible for demons to be born from, or have their energies tainted by, compassion and other similar things. However, most of the demons born this way are devoured by their more ruthless kin in an eternal struggle for more power."
"I see." Harry sighed. "That sounds depressing."
"I would not know." His shade replied. "I have never been to the Underworld, and what I have told you is the extent of my knowledge of that place."
Harry glanced towards the castle, as he was currently out on the grounds, to see the angular, somewhat twisted version of the school that existed on the Astral Plane. Hell, even though it was a little different to the material castle, he could still easily tell which windows were for which classrooms.
As his gaze drifted past where he knew the Ancient Runes classroom was, Harry frowned, recalling a book of wizarding fairy tales he'd read recently. Deciding to ask his shade a few more questions while he rested, he questioned it on whether there was some form of 'Death' entity on the Astral Plane.
"No, there is no singular entity that identifies itself as 'Death'." The shade told him. "However, there is a type of Class four spirit often referred to as 'Reapers' due to their resemblance of the fifteenth century personification of a cloaked figure with a scythe."
"Do they collect souls at all?" Harry wondered.
"After a fashion, yes." The shade confirmed. "Not all of those that die become spirits, and the Reapers collect these failures themselves. No one quite knows why they do this, it is simply something they always have done, and likely always will. May I ask why you wish to know about them?"
"I read the tales of Beedle the Bard recently." Harry told it. "One of the stories, however, got me wondering about it. The Tale of Three Brothers, do you know it?" The shade replied in the negative. "Well, in it Death gives three wizards artefacts that related to itself, an unbeatable wand, a stone that can recall the dead, and a cloak that can hide one from Death itself."
"You believe that these items exist?" The shade mused. "And you wondered if they were somehow connected to the Astral Plane?"
"I did wonder, yes." Harry chuckled. "There's also some 'evidence' for the artefacts existing. For the wand, a lot of dark lords have claimed to possess an elder wand that can't be defeated, though references of it disappear around World War Two with Grindlewald. I have reason to believe that Dumbledore, the one who defeated Grindlewald, may be in possession of it.
"The cloak, however, is almost certainly real. Invisibility cloaks do exist, but most of them fail after a few years, they rip or tear, the spells on them fail, or something else happens to them. However, the cloak currently in my possession is at least a decade old, though I and Rein believe it to be truly ancient. Not to mention, she can't replicate the magic in it for some reason."
"And the stone?" The shade asked.
"I don't know." Harry responded. "I've got this idea that I've seen proof of it somewhere, but I can't think where that might be. I mean, something that calls up souls, even incomplete ones..." Harry paused there.
"Incomplete souls?" He murmured, before palming his face. "Now I know where I've seen it, the ring horcrux has the symbol of the Deathly Hallows etched into it! Why the hell haven't I collected that horcrux yet?"
The shade regarded Harry for a moment, before glancing between him and the castle. "Shall we collect it now?" It asked. "You've already missed lessons, and you are quite far ahead of your classmates, so you will not fall behind. I must also admit, I am... curious about your suspicions regarding these 'Deathly Hallows'."
Harry got to his feet. "Well, no time like the present, and I am feeling a little reckless right now."
"Indeed." The shade chuckled in its low, rasping voice.
Harry smiled, ever so slightly, at that. He stepped back into the Material World and prepared a Dimensional Transfer spell to take them to Little Hangleton. However, just before it activated, he clenched his fists and looked down at his arm.
Those emotions with the boggart, that fear, hatred, and utter loathing.
Could it be... NachtWal?
xxxxx
After arriving in Little Hangleton, Harry and his shade immediately made for the old Gaunt hovel. He did mentally talk with Reinforce and his familiars on the way, as they had realised he was back in the Material World due to the connection they shared with him.
He comforted them, telling them that he was okay, and while the form the boggart had taken had shocked him, he would be fine given just a little more time. He did not, however, tell any of them about his slight suspicions regarding NachtWal, and while Reinforce could easily tell he was hiding something from her, she did not pressure him about it.
Once they arrived at the Gaunt 'home', Harry sent his shade on ahead to check things out. While the memories ripped out of the horcruxes he already had, the diary and diadem, told him exactly what defences were placed here, he was not going to be foolish enough to ignore the possibility of there being more that had been added at a later time.
The shade returned soon enough, reporting that it had not noticed any additional protections.
Nodding his head, Harry stepped forwards. He cast counter-curses to halt the curses Voldemort had trapped the place with, stepped in the correct places to avoid the traps laid into the ground, and destroyed the anchors for some of the more troublesome magic.
All in all, it looked almost like Harry danced across the clearing in front of the shack, following a twisting and winding path that Voldemort had designed rather like a muggle minefield. In fact, judging by the memories, that was exactly what this particular defence was based on.
Once he was at the door, Harry didn't immediately open it. Instead, he gave a Parseltongue password to the rather pitiful remains of a snake nailed to the door, waited for the correct response, and then pushed the side of the door opposite the handle to open it.
Once inside, Harry cast a spell to flip all of the floorboards upside down, as the topside was coating in a rather unpleasant potion, and then headed towards the chimney breast. Now, here Voldemort would use an animation charm to make something fetch the horcrux for him, but Harry instead conjured a clanger.
That was, of course, simply personal preference.
As Small Clanger walked into the fireplace and began to climb up to get the horcrux from where it was ensconced, Harry once again began to wonder about how he might get hold of the rest of the horcruxes. Voldemort's memories made it quite clear he intended to make six, but Harry only had two of them, soon three, and no means of hunting down the others.
'Perhaps these 'Reaper' spirits my shade mentioned could help.' Harry thought for a moment, but then again, he didn't know if horcruxes counted for the drifting remains of dead people that they apparently collected.
The magical copy of a clanger soon returned and presented the ring to Harry. He did not immediately pick it up, however, regardless of the compulsion on it to do so. He knew the last defence on the ring was a rather nasty withering curse that activated on contact with living flesh.
Unfortunately, Voldemort apparently knew no way of countering it, and neither did Harry. On the other hand, the curse was attached to the metal setting, not the stone embedded in it. Knowing that, it didn't take long to pry the stone out of its setting, pocketing the metal band to put with the other horcruxes later. Transfiguring a pebble into the likeness of the ring, and adding an explosive trap of his own, Harry sent the clanger to put the new ring in the place of the old one.
On the way out of the shack, Harry reconstructed all of the protections that Riddle had originally put in place, mimicking Voldemort's magical signature as much as he was capable of. Hopefully it was close enough that, if Riddle ever did return, he wouldn't notice the difference, and would hopefully set off Harry's own trap on the new ring, which would then cause a chain reaction in the other protections Riddle had in place.
One could hope after all.
Once past all of the defences, Harry immediately teleported to the planet he constructed his golems on, and then had his shade examine the 'potential' resurrection stone. While it did so, Harry continued his construction of his latest, and potentially last, set of golems, Pleiades the Mage Sisters.
All of the mechanisms that allowed them to cast different spells had already been made, and four of the bodies had too. They were taking longer than they otherwise might because there needed to be 'channels' made to carry the mana from their cores to their hands and feet, where the spells were cast from. It was like making a very rudimentary circulatory system for mana instead of blood.
"Hmm, it seems you were right to be curious regarding Reaper spirits, master." The shade informed Harry once it had finished investigating the stone. "There seems to be one... somehow trapped inside this strange stone."
"Will breaking it have any effect on the spirit?" Harry asked.
"If you used your Wraith-blade, most definitely. If you mean physically breaking the container... I do not believe so. In fact, that may well be the easiest way to release the spirit. However, I do not think this stone will break easily." The shade informed him.
Harry shrugged, before asking. "Is the Reaper aware of the outside, can we speak to it?"
"She, master, unlike shades, Reapers do have genders, though they do not reproduce as the living do." The shade told him. "As for your question, no, she is not aware of the outside world. Perhaps at one point she was, but right now she is slumbering."
"Do you think trying to break the stone is a good idea, is the reaper likely to attack me if I do?" Harry asked.
"She seems too weak to do much right now, most likely due to being trapped in that stone for so long." The shade answered.
"Well, let's see what I can do then." Harry sighed, conjuring a large war hammer as he did so.
He placed the resurrection stone on flat ground, hardened it as much as he could with magic, reinforced his conjured weapon as well, and then swung down at the black stone with a two-handed blow.
Even with magically enhanced strength, however, all he managed to do was jar his arms which took the full shock of the blow. Wincing, he rubbed at his arms, and decided on a different approach. Shaping the ground into a bowl shape, he cast as many explosive and blasting spells as he knew from Terran magic at the stone.
It survived every last one.
Clicking his tongue, Harry brought out his tome and began searching for more potent blasting spells, or pretty much anything that caused physical destruction. Casting these, at the stone proved just as ineffective as the ones he already knew. Deciding that he might as well, he refined his search, and began looking for any dark magic that might work.
He found a couple, but one stood out. Granted, its stated purpose was for use on castles and other similar structures, collapsing the foundations in spite of any wards in place and preventing repairing or reconstruction spells from working. The only problem was the sheer amount of mana required for the spell.
Well, that was a problem for a regular, witch or wizard, not for one with the reserves Harry had.
Harry took a few steps back from the stone, activated his Device, and had it take the form of a halberd. His Tome of Shadows floated next to him, open at the page regarding the dark spell he was about to attempt, and feeding the appropriate data into his Device.
Goodness was Harry glad to get that link sorted out!
A purplish black orb gathered just in front of Harry's Device, charging up the necessary magic to cast the spell. All the while, Harry rapidly altered the calculations his staff was generating, refining the spell, keeping the quantity of mana steady while limiting the blast radius to increase the overall effect.
Once the spell was released, it shot like a bullet right at the resurrection stone and stayed there. Looking at it was like looking at an intense thunderstorm all going on in an area the size of a basketball, though anyone even the slightest bit sensitive to magic would tell you of the ridiculous amount of mana that was focused into the small space.
Once the spell had ended, Harry was pleased to see that the stone had been turned into little more than shiny black fragments. However, he could not see the Reaper spirit anywhere.
"Master, direct Tiet to your eyes, it seems this Reaper is too weak to even appear before human eyes." His shade instructed him, and Harry immediately did as it said.
Channelling Tiet to his eyes made Harry rather dizzy for a few moments. Once he got over that though, he saw the world in black and white – a side effect of the Tiet perhaps? - but what he did see was the ragged, black cloak sprawled out on the ground before him.
Peeking out from the cloak was a black, skeleton arm, and off to the side was a dark-coloured scythe. Harry focused on the obvious cracks in the skeleton's arm, and falling to his knees, he began casting what spells he knew that would fix the problem, the most basic being the bone-knitting spell.
Amazingly, it worked. Harry had partially expected it to fail due to Astral spirits and magic not usually working together. It seemed though that being on the Material Plane allowed the Reaper to be fixed up using magical means, which was something Harry made a mental note of.
Harry saw the cloak twitch slightly, and quietly levitated the scythe further out of reach. He did not need this spirit attacking him as soon as she was capable of it. Yes, she was a Class four spirit, meaning she had above human abilities, but Harry believed that the magical enhancement spells he had active should be able to at least allow him to match her, especially given she was most definitely not in good condition.
He jerked back just in time to prevent the reaper strangling him barehanded.
"Human!" She growled out, dim red eyes glowing in the sockets of her skull. "What new torture have you envisioned for me now!?" She snarled at him in a strange double-toned voice.
Harry stepped back a moment, still healing what he could of the spirit's injuries. He was going to be wary of her, no doubt, it was likely only due to how weak she was right now that, after her first failed attack, she had not continued to assault him.
"No torture, I assure you." Harry's words earned a scoff from the reaper. "I retrieved the artefact you were sealed inside, and my shade told me that a spirit was trapped in there. I destroyed the stone, and now you're here. As you can probably tell, all I've done to you is heal what damage I can."
The reaper's eyes slid to the shade. "A damned shadow, eh?" She noted. "Is what you're master said true?"
"For the most part, yes." The shade answered her. "He had read an old magical fairy tale and asked me if there was a singular 'Death' entity on the Astral Plane. I corrected him, and from there we discussed the three items from the tale, eventually leading to us retrieving the ring you were trapped inside."
"Tell me this 'story'." The reaper demanded, her red eyes focused on Harry.
Harry did so, telling her the tale of the three brothers. He watched her closely for any reaction, and noticed he got one whenever he mentioned one of the Deathly Hallows, as well as the river and the bridge. She showed satisfaction at the deaths of two of the brothers, though the youngest's didn't seem to please her.
"Now, could you tell me how true this story is?" Harry asked.
"I suppose I could, in thanks for freeing me and fixing my bones." The Reaper agreed hesitantly. "There was a river, myself and my brothers collected many souls that died in and near that river, and there was some sort of creature that lived nearby, on the Material Plane, that killed a great many as well.
I... remember the three brothers, as arrogant as a Pit Lord, all three of them. There was some sort of ritual, I think, or random distortion in the fabric of the worlds, I can't remember clearly. Regardless, my siblings and I ended up on the Material Plane unexpectedly and disorientated. The brothers planned it, I am sure. As blurry as my memory is, I recall some form of ritual circle that limited us, made us weaker than we should have been."
The reaper looked down at her still damaged bones, the ones Harry had yet to get around to fixing, and an aura of sheer hate seemed to erupt around her.
"I remember a sucking sensation, like a whirlpool or something, and then I was stuck in a tiny little prison. I presume it was that stone you mentioned destroying. I remember my power being leached away from me, and I remember lashing out, using all of the foul language I know. I tried to pull my power back to me, but I was only partially successful.
Unfortunately, that left me drained, and with my power still being pulled from me, I fell into a powerless slumber until just now. The last thing I remember of that time was satisfaction, I'm fairly sure that was when the brother died and I managed to collect the remains of his soul after he died."
"I see." Harry mused to himself. "Now, I have two things to say. Firstly, I'm fairly sure that I know where one of the other 'Deathly Hallows' is at, and I have my suspicions about another. Secondly, do you know what a horcrux is?" The reaper shook her head. "Well, it's where someone rips a piece of their soul off and stores it inside an object to prevent themselves dying."
The reaper scoffed. "Foolish. Such a thing might keep you on the Material Plane longer than normal, but a fragmented soul has no hope of becoming any form of Astral spirit after death. I hope your second point isn't to request my help in creating such an artefact yourself?"
"Hardly." Harry replied, feeling more at ease with the reaper now. "An enemy of mine has created multiple horcruxes, anywhere up to six, and I only have three of them. I was hoping you might know a way of tracking the other fragments down, as I don't know how to do so."
"While I would love to collect this idiot's fragments, I know of no way to track them down. My kind are one of the most nomadic of the Astral Plane, we merely collect the trash as we go. I know some of my kin linger in certain places, where death is common, as I and my brothers did, however I have been gone from the world so long I do not know who would be where, nor which may possess pertinent information." The reaper told him.
"Damn, that's unfortunate." Harry sighed. "Just how the hell are we supposed to track these damn things down?"
The reaper gave him a look, which she really shouldn't be able to do, being a skeleton and all. "Have you thought about it logically? Is there any pattern to where these objects have been discovered so far?" She half-asked, half-suggest.
"Yes, actually." Harry answered. "One was given to a faithful follower of his, another was hidden in the school, and the one I just retrieved came from the house his mother once lived in. The Unspeakables are going over his history and highlighting likely places for him to have hidden others for me, but this all seems too easy. I mean, why hide them in such obvious places? It would be so much harder to track them down if he took even one of them out of the country."
"Arrogance, perhaps, a failing of many mortals." The reaper said. "Confidence in his defences, maybe, or he might truly have taken one elsewhere, leaving most of them where one might expect them to be."
Harry shook his head. "No, from what I know of him, Riddle likes dramatics, and enjoys tricks and games. His own pseudonym is from an anagram, his 'treasures' are hidden in places linked to his past, and he likes to show off in front of his followers. I swear, he'd probably have been quite the successful actor if he hadn't chosen to go dark lord."
"Curious." The reaper murmured. "If he acts so, then how successful of a dark lord is he? Surely it would take someone more intelligent to truly become a threat?"
"Hit and run tactics don't require much in the way of intelligence." Harry rolled his eyes. "He also has quite the library of spells available, though he also has a tendency towards a select few. The Unforgivables and Fiendfyre, a few dark curses, and that's about it. He does use them to great effect, I'll give him that though."
"So the problem lies with his nigh-immortality due to his horcruxes, and his effective use of dangerous spells. Hit and run tactics are what he favours, and, I'm assuming, he avoids open combat if at all possible?" The reaper questioned Harry.
"Yes, there was a handful of 'large' confrontations in his first 'rise' to power, not many. The Potters and the Longbottoms even matched him three times before getting away fully intact." Harry replied. "That can't have done his temper any favours.
"Now, while this is interesting and all that, I should really be heading back to school. I've missed a day's worth of classes, and I've left some people worrying about me, I'm certain." Harry looked to the reaper and offered his hand. "I can release you back to the Astral Plane if you wish, but just out of curiosity, would you be interested in a contract with me?"
The reaper didn't reply immediately, she merely regarded Harry silently for a few moments, before glancing down at her now mended bones. After a few moments, she sighed, and her bony hand clasped Harry's.
"I'm weak right now, so weak I'd probably have trouble matching a Class three, so returning to the Astral Plane right now is likely not a good idea for me." She stated, before her grip tightened on Harry's hand. "I'll agree to your contract, so long as you understand this; if you ever even think to trap me like the last one did, I will take great pleasure in destroying you as thoroughly as I can, and devouring what remains. Understand?"
"I had no intention of it." Harry replied honestly. "Now, let's see if we can't at least do something about one of your brothers, if not both."