All That Glitters Also Darkens
Disclaimer/Plot/Author's Note: SEE FIRST CHAPTER
Recommended Reads: Aspirations by megamatt09, Apex by JustBored21, A very Black plan by Rose1414, Harry Potter and the Founders' Vault by CharmedMilliE- Karry Master, Pray For The Wicked by Kapiushon, Harry Potter, Dark Legacy by The Fallen One 2012, The Best Laid Plans by Lowten, Soul Scars by Rtnwriter, I Once was Lost but Who was Found and Rituals and Artifacts: A Fourth Year Story by bluezinthos, I See No Difference by maschl, Angry, Overpowered Harry Potter by TomHRichardson and The Boy Who Lived, The Brightest Witch and The Boy Who Wasn't by dragonfly117
Key Pairing: Dark Harmony;
Other Pairings: To be determined
Normal Speech
'Thoughts'
/Parseltongue/
Review Answers:
Fiferguy: A twist in the tale, but with a classic element;
Stephanie MRV: Just because she won't be with Viktor, it doesn't mean she'll be invisible;
It was then, as these images filled his head, he knew when Hermione had come from, although he couldn't quite understand how she was.
'Hermione,' thought Harry, closing his eyes as he surrendered to the stream of images flashing before his eyes;
'You're from the future!'
Chapter 2: Hermione's Secret
"Harry?"
A feeling of disorientation greeted Harry as he slowly cracked his eyes open, the last thing he remembered being Hermione, acting on impulse, and kissing him – her, kissing him – as she shared her deepest, darkest, most-troubling secret with him.
That she, Hermione Jean Granger, his best friend, his dearest confidant and his most-trusted, most-faithful companion, had come from the future.
How it was he'd even blacked out, he didn't know, but, now he was awake again, Harry was a little surprised to feel something soft beneath him, as well as a feeling of warmth, comfort and sanctuary that rose up inside of him, even as he went to open his eyes. As soon as he opened his eyes, however, Harry's eyes narrowed suspiciously, if not with surprise and curiosity when he saw he wasn't out by the Stone Circle anymore.
Now, he was lying on a very comfortable-feeling loveseat, sprawled across it, as though he'd fallen onto one of the sofas in front of the fireplace in Gryffindor Tower. However, where the seat was located, Harry also noticed, was no Gryffindor Tower: instead of red and gold colouring, and portraits of famous witches and wizards who'd come from said House, and, of course, the usual terrible din that came with being in that place, Harry found himself lying on the loveseat, in a room that was almost-perfectly pure-white in colour.
Rising up, Harry looked around warily; to his bewilderment, the small sofa he was lying on, was set in a seemingly-ordinary room, with a bay window, an empty shelving unit and a mirror that looked more like a snowstorm with how white and transparent it seemed to be.
If there was any sort of colour break, it was in the presence of Hermione, who was sitting in an armchair across the room from him; however, to his curiosity, the girl…no…woman before him hardly even looked like the Hermione he knew and loved.
Instead of recently-straightened teeth – thank you, Malfoy – and wild dark hair, as well as a desire to see him be the great wizard she claimed to believe he was, this Hermione Granger was taller, thinner, and had almost-completely shaved her hair off, allowing Harry to see she also carried more than a fair amount of scars, some older than others, as well as a very nasty burn to one side of her face, like someone had branded her.
The fact that this brand-slash-burn was shaped like a letter M gave Harry a dark feeling in the pit of his stomach, though, as he slowly pulled himself into a sitting position, he also saw this Hermione smile sadly before, to his surprise, she nodded at him.
"I'm sorry for the sudden act of doing what I did, Harry, but…but this was the only thing I could think of to get you to listen to me without someone else butting in or learning things they shouldn't. And, also, sorry if my appearance frightens you, but, before I found myself back with you, I learned that, when I brought you here, I'd retain the image of the Hermione who did everything she could to change the past."
"Despite the warnings this Hermione gave me about messing with time just a few short months ago?" asked Harry, earning a scoff from Hermione.
"Some things are more than worth the risk; for example, losing the only boy you had ever, would ever and always ever loved with all your heart and soul…that's you, by the way, just to be clear."
"I could have guessed," said Harry, looking down at his own body; to his relief, he was, at least, clothed in pale-grey items of clothing, which actually felt comfortable, while he was also much-better-feeling, on the inside.
A fact that made him smile, even as he looked up to Hermione before he asked, "So…and, trust me, even after our adventure last year, I never would have thought I'd have to ask this of you, Hermione, but…how many years has it been for you?"
"At this moment in time," said Hermione, leaning forwards on her seat as she explained, "It's been ten years for me, which, yes, Harry, makes me twenty-five; an adult, so to speak, in our world, just as you have become, now that you're in this farce of a Tournament."
"Say what?"
Scoffing again, Hermione ran a hand through her very short hairstyle as she explained, "You never got a chance to figure it out; I should have remembered that…ahem…as I was saying, you are an adult now, thanks to the Magical Laws of this ass-backwards Tournament recognising you as a Champion of the Unknown School: of course, if there was any justice, the Goblet wouldn't even have done it, for the simple reason that the Triwizard Tournament is called the Triwizard Tournament for a reason: because there are three schools, three champions and only three…"
"Good to know we're thinking the same thing, Hermione," chuckled Harry dryly, running a hand through his own hair before he gulped hard as he asked, "So…in your time…what? Don't I survive this thing?"
"Oh, you survive, all right," said Hermione, a note of scathing hatred now lacing her words as she told him, "Admittedly, it's only because of sheer coincidence and people deciding when is the right time to drop hints that are basically letting you skate by on, as McGonagall once said, sheer dumb luck…and you also get humiliated, because of me, and that prat, Ronald, when you're meant to be the happiest you've ever felt…but…but none of that…not one bit…nothing compares to…to what happens next…"
"Let me guess," said Harry, linking his hands together while, as he listened to Hermione go off on one, he also felt an irresistible urge to run over there and console her, but, seeing as how he had very little clues as to what was going on, he kept his peace as he asked, "Voldemort?"
"Got it in one," replied Hermione.
As she said it, however, Harry's eyes widened as he gulped hard before he asked, "He…he…he finally kills me…doesn't he?"
"Worse," replied Hermione, now shedding a tear as she explained in a shaky voice, "He…he tricks you into…into murdering someone…a friend; and…and when you're caught out by…by the Ministry, trying…trying to warn them of his comeback, Malfoy Senior…he condemns you! As a result, this…this foul, fetid gargoyle of a she-devil of a bitch, Dolores Um-bitch helps Malfoy play off of Fudge's paranoia and delusions. And…and in the end, you…you're tried as a traitor, put up on a pedestal of infamy and…and hatred and…and then, right…right in the middle of Diagon Alley, you…you're executed!"
A look of abject horror crossed Harry's face as he heard what Hermione was saying, though the young woman before him didn't stop her tale there.
"When you died…people cheered, Harry! They…they actually staked claims to…to your remains…and your wealth…and your possessions: the worst of them was…were the Weasleys! Ronald actually made up bullshit claims about…about a will and…and with Molly and Arthur's help, both him and that slut, Ginevra…they get a share…compensation, they call it! Even worse, the rest of it gets divided between the victim, who…who I can't mention, if only because I…I don't want you to…to go and do something you might regret, but…but also…Dumbledore claims the rest, calling himself your magical guardian and…and saying, as your last family tie, he should have everything…"
"He doesn't even defend me?" asked Harry.
"He's obsessed with your family, Harry!" insisted Hermione and, as much as he wanted to do otherwise, the more he listened to her tale, the more Harry found himself believing Hermione, as she exclaimed, "He always has been, ever since your Dad and…and before then; it was all because of this bullshit rumour about becoming an Immortal, should you bring three relics together: a stone-mounted ring, a wand and a cloak, all of which belonged to the Lost House of Peverell!"
"A cloak?" asked Harry.
"Your Father's, yes," replied Hermione, her hands trembling even more, while more tears flowed down her cheeks as she gasped out, "After you died, Dumbledore claimed it and…and managed to find the stone; then…then he went to face Voldemort. What happened…nobody knows, but, in the end, Dumbledore's head was delivered to the school…and the next thing everyone knew, Voldemort…he was the sole ruler of Magical Britain!"
"Fuck…"
"As a result, Hogwarts…well, put it this way: what those pure-blood douches did…it even puts the Holocaust and ghetto liquidations during the second world war to shame," argued Hermione, curling in on herself, as though the memories were proving far too much for her.
This, Harry decided, was the final straw: leaving his seat, he crossed the floor and, before the elder woman had a chance to stop him, he wrapped his arms around her, directing her head to his chest where she proceeded to sob profusely, as Harry held her, running his fingers over her scalped head, while he also rubbed her back as he held onto his dearest of friends.
Curiously, as he held onto her, Harry noticed Hermione's body started to repair itself, first with her hair and then her skin, her figure and her whole physical look; soon, the girl he knew and loved was sobbing into his arms, shaking feverishly as she was held, cared for, comforted and kept safe in the coils of the snake in lion's clothing that was Harry James Potter.
"It…it's okay…" whispered Harry, shushing Hermione's sobs as he held onto her, as though she was everything to him. "You…you don't have to keep going, if you can't handle it…I think I get the point, anyway."
"I…I'm sorry," whispered Hermione, a note of raw fear in her words as she looked up at Harry from within his embrace, "I…I just…I've always heard the saying you don't know, you weren't there…but…but this…it's Hell…and worse! Muggle-borns like me…we were rounded up and…and given a choice: to…to either be the slaves of our betters…and proclaim ourselves Mudbloods, or…or we'd be incarcerated in Azkaban…and, worse, we…we wouldn't even have to worry about Dementors, because…Azkaban, it…it became a torture haven! Malfoy even had his colleagues work there…like Lestrange…Greyback…Umbitch…and even those sick bastard traitors, Ginevra, Ronald and Percival!"
Suddenly, Hermione winced as Harry's nails clamped down hard on her arm as he heard three names of supposed friends and honorary family members being part of the torment his Hermione had been forced to endure.
"Did…did you…did they…"
"I…I made a deal…with Ronald…at first…" said Hermione, tapping the burned scar on her cheek, which Harry now saw was slowly healing as he continued holding onto her and caressing her, while Hermione went on. "I…I promised I…I'd let him…be my…my…"
"Master," said Harry, earning a shiver from Hermione, before Harry sighed softly, "What happened?"
"Ronald got drunk and…and sold me to…to Malfoy, but…but he forgot because of the drink and…and, as a result, I…I was arrested for…for being a traitor to my…my race and…and owner. As…as a result, I…I was branded with my…my scar and…and thrown to…to Lestrange…though not before Ronald paid the new Minister, Voldemort himself, to…to let him have his way with me…and…in the process…"
Now, the whiteness of the world turned darker, accompanied by a wave of cold, dark magic, which sprang out of Harry as he snarled, "That…that sick bastard…are you saying he…he raped you?"
"And impregnated me…" added Hermione, earning a look of sheer horror from Harry as she explained, "But…but his Mummy claimed I…I'd tricked him, just…just so my lot could…could have a new Harry Potter…you know, a half-blood? As…as a result, he…she…they…damn them to Hell and all Nine Circles!"
"So what happened after that?" asked Harry, trying to distract Hermione for only a moment, if only so she could stay on topic.
Although he silently vowed that, if he got out of this…wherever they were, he would NEVER forgive the Weasleys, any of them…
Well, save for the Twins as, from how Hermione told her story, it sounded like those two lovable rogues were innocent…he hoped!
"I…I'd just…I'd just turned twenty-five," said Hermione, rubbing at her arms as she tried to bury her head into Harry's robes.
He didn't even try to stop her.
"And…and he came to…to see me…you know…him!" said Hermione, reaching up to tap a finger on Harry's scar, indicating who it was that was him, as she continued, "He…he told me that…that the Weasleys were dead and…and that I should be happy, because…because he was letting me go…though not before he revealed something else…"
"What?"
"You," said Hermione, looking up to Harry as she lifted herself up, so that she could look into his eyes as she explained, "You…were alive, Harry!"
"What? But…but I thought…"
"So, did I…and, as he himself admitted it, so did he," agreed Hermione, tapping the scar on Harry's forehead as she explained, "But…according to Him, you…you were…you are, in this moment in time, what was known as…a Horcrux: which meant, when…when you died, part of him died and…and as a result, your soul…it became lost. It…it took him nearly a decade to…to find the Magic to…to resurrect you and…and deliver the final, killing blow to…to his victory, but…but before he would go ahead with it, he…he wanted your name blackened for all eternity…kind of making you the new You-Know-Who…you know, the guy whose name is feared to be spoken?"
"Herostratic law," said Harry, earning a surprised, but also amused look from Hermione before, unable to stop the smile forming, Harry nudged her playfully, "Honestly, don't you read, Mia?"
As Hermione laughed softly, silently liking the nickname that Harry used, she looked up to him again as she explained, "And…and he'd had you start down that path by…by, apparently, seeking vengeance from beyond the grave and slaughtering the Weasleys, ending their bloodline. You…you even stole away my bastard child with the prick and…and made him your slave…since, as a magic-born child, you were his better…so, in a nutshell, Harry…Voldemort…"
"Broke me," said Harry, holding Hermione's hand in his as he asked, "Nod…or shake…did he…did I…kill you?"
Hermione bowed her head…
And then nodded…
"Hermione, you…you have to believe…even in the dark mindset I'm in now…I'd never…"
"I know," said Hermione, taking Harry's hand in hers, as he'd done with her other hand, before she explained, "And, even before you…you did it, I…I told you…I'd forgive you…always…and then, using…using some advanced cutting curse, you…you did it…and…and that was that…"
"Or so we thought," said Harry, earning a nod from Hermione.
"Yes," replied the brunette, rising from the seat before, turning to Harry, she held out a hand to him as she explained, "If…if you want to know the rest, then…then there's someone you need to meet, Harry…someone really important…"
"Who?" asked Harry, taking Hermione's hand, though his heart raced, even as he rose up with her, at the information he'd received from her.
This was probably why his surprise didn't go any higher, nor his disbelief any stronger, when Hermione answered him with just one word;
"Death…"
Glitters
To be honest, after the simple, homey design of the space where he'd awoken, Harry didn't know what to expect when Hermione led him out through a door, with the intent of introducing him to Death, or so she'd said.
However, when she led him through the door, only to emerge in what looked like a cheesy, American diner, complete with 50's style memorabilia, as well as a number of well-known hits from The King himself playing over the radio, Harry had to admit himself surprised, if not amused. There were also the booths with red-leather seats around the tables, and high stools propped up against the counter, as well as milkshake makers and a selection of ice-cream treats.
And, finally, to Harry's absolute surprise – which really said something about the effect the whole place had on them – a lone figure, whom was sat alone at a two-man table, his back to them as he tucked into what looked like a large, deep-pan pizza with everything on it. Next to the figure, Harry also saw a walking stick with a curved head, which, given what Hermione had said, he guessed was a scythe, if not meant to resemble one, while the man himself was dressed in a crisp-looking black suit, which really stood out against his pale complexion.
As Harry approached warily, Hermione gulped softly before she cleared her throat, causing the man to stop cutting into the pizza; the dead silence that followed her clearing her throat honestly made Harry feel uneasy, if not plain terrified – and, given he'd basically just heard his absolute worst nightmares were, allegedly, what happens next, for him and Hermione, not to mention the world, that was saying something.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity – and, given where they were and who it was that they were in the presence of, it certainly seemed an appropriate turn of phrase – the pale figure addressed them.
"Harry…Hermione…welcome…you're right on time; come…sit…the pizza's delicious."
Moving forwards, albeit on shaky legs for, perhaps, the first time ever, Harry circled the table where the stranger sat, while Hermione seemed to be content moving to the table next to the pale man – and not just because the table itself was only big enough for two to sit at – as she watched Harry move into his place.
This also allowed Harry to take notice of the pale, somewhat-aged appearance of the stranger, as well as his slick, dark hair, cold, ruthlessly-icy pale-grey eyes and even the blank, thousand-yard stare that he seemed to constantly wear, even as Harry looked down at him.
"You…you're Death?"
"No, I'm the FedEx Guy on my lunch break," drawled the pale figure.
It might have meant to sound sarcastic, yet no-one laughed, which Harry assumed only fuelled the idea of how powerful a being he was standing in front of, although the aforementioned being, Death himself – or was it Itself? Harry didn't know…and yet, he didn't dare ask – continued as though he hadn't just made such a crude joke.
"Won't you join me? Like I said, the pizza's delicious; I certainly hope it's to your liking…and, Hermione?"
"Y-y-y-yes, sir?"
"Come closer; rest assured, there's room enough for three."
Not to Harry's surprise, Hermione Granger's response to receiving a command from a Higher Power was obeyed without question, although he also made sure to sit directly opposite Death, his green eyes looking down at the pizza, even as Death offered him a slice.
When he did the same for Hermione, she thanked him before she tucked into the slice.
Harry, however, cleared his throat, rather-loudly too, before he stared Death in the face – quite literally – as he asked him, "So…you're the one that brought Hermione back?"
"I am."
Again, Death spoke so matter-of-factly, it was scary and chilling.
And yet, as Harry pressed on, he let his Gryffindor-spawned courage do the deed for him as he asked, "And…you gave her the means to bring me into this…whatever it is, with her when she kissed me?"
"Well, I had hoped she might try and help you figure things out for yourself first, but, apparently, she is still such an impetuously-impulsive soul, ergo, here you are and here we sit," replied Death, earning a shudder from Hermione.
Before he could stop himself, Harry reached over and took Hermione's hand in his, squeezing it as tightly as he could, before he looked back to Death as he asked, "Well, whatever your plans were, Death, trust me: given what she's just told me, I'm more than happy to not only screw up your plans, but, if your goal is to get me to agree to do the same for the fuck-ups at Hogwarts, I am beyond willing to do that too!"
"Oh my…well, I certainly didn't see this outcome…"
Again, sarcasm delivered with an icy front.
And, again, Harry remained as strong-willed as he could, "But, obviously, you want something, Death: so, what is it?"
"Well, first," said Death, indicating the slice he'd given Harry as he told him, "I want you to eat, Harry; you're practically skin and bones…and coming from me, that's saying something."
Reluctantly, though also curiously, Harry took a bite; as Death had said, the pizza was delicious, prompting him to dig into more bits before, as he ate another piece, he heard Death go on.
"Now, with regards to what it is I desire, Harry Potter…I want you to grow the fuck up!"
Harry suddenly dropped the fork he was using to eat, earning a cold glare from Death as the Reaper went on, "You heard me, boy! I understand your ire with what you have just heard, but, consider this: for a thing like me, a thing like you…well, think about how you would feel if a bacterium suddenly sat down at your table and decided to get snarky…"
A chill ran through Harry as he heard those words, but he tried to maintain a strong front as Death continued, "This is one little planet in one tiny solar system in a galaxy that's barely out of its diapers. I'm old, Harry…very old…so, I invite you to contemplate how insignificant I find you."
He didn't raise his voice.
That was, perhaps, what made him most-terrifying to listen to, despite Harry's attempts to hold onto his courage; as Death offered him another slice of the pizza, Harry gulped, deflating slightly as he licked his lips slowly before, taking a deep breath, he looked to Hermione softly.
"All right…"
Death continued eating, while Harry, removing his glasses, wiped tears from his eyes as he looked back to Death, replacing his glasses on his face as he cleared his throat politely.
"How can I repay your kindness…for what you did…for my friend…Sir?"
Death stopped eating.
He also set down his cutlery and, linking his fingers together, he looked at Harry with a long, hard stare, his eyes boring deeper into Harry than even his soul could claim to touch before, finally, Death nodded calmly.
"There you are…you see? Now you begin to understand…and so, Harrison Peverell, Last of my Masters…now, we can talk…as equals…but first, tell me…would either of you like some dessert? The lemon meringue comes highly-recommended…"
Chapter 2 and…brr…does anyone have a spare blanket…or a million?
Harry's discovered that courage can only get you so far, but, now he's learned the hard way what becomes of those who defy Death, what does the Pale One want with the present-Harry?
Also, can Harry truly help Hermione break one of the oldest laws in the universe, the Law of Time, and save not only him and his dearest friend, but the world in general, even if it means going up against so-called friends and mentors?
Keep Reading to Find Out
Next Chapter: Harry and Hermione return to Hogwarts, with an oddly-different outlook on everything, including a funny twist to the norm: also, Harry shows everyone what a lion's claws really look like when a certain annoying ferret, and the insect with him, tries to crawl under the skin of the Fourth Champion…
Please Read and Review
AN: Portrayal
Death: Julian Richings
(Yes, the meeting was inspired and a shout-out to the hilariously-chilling scene in Supernatural)