Death Becomes Him

Chapter of Three (?_?)

By: Twist the Insane

A/N: Hello, peepsils! Bummer about ff.n being down for so long, huh? *giggle* I am so hyper for no particular reason, and I really shouldn't be 'cause my horsie's sick. Poor Domy's got a temp. of 102. *hugs Domy* It's okay, baby, mommy will visit you every day, even if I can't ride you for the clinic. Anywhoosles, this is the long-delayed third chapter to my story about Harry being semi-dead. I'd like to thank Lifetime (I can't believe I even considered watching it) for inspiring me to get off my lazy arse and get to writing this. Long live Green Day and remember: Carpe Diem! Life only lasts so long, keep that phrase in mind when considering going out with a guy and you're not sure! =) Peace, and enjoy!

Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing. If you think I own it then I might, but probably not. There are some things you might recognize from Terry Pratchett, some stuff out of my fav game Lords of Magic and the rest is pretty much Harry Potter. Oh, and some of Monty Python. I just own my CD player, thanks. DON'T SUE ME!!!!!

~*

Harry touched down somewhere in a forest, presumably still in England. He had gotten lost and hadn't been all that sure of his aging Firebolt making it over the Atlantic Ocean. He had decided on America, at least people spoke English there. Anyway, if he had any trouble there at all he could go to Canada. Or Mexico. It didn't really matter now, he just had to figure out how to find the coast. Maybe he could catch a plane to the States instead, at least if it crashed it wouldn't be his fault. Maybe it would be Voldemort's. One never knew. He leaned backwards onto a tree and sighed, this was harder than he'd thought.

"Someone help me," he muttered to himself. "Please, just tell me where I am!" A small woodland creature ambled out of the bushes and looked curiously at him. Then it grinned. "Bugger off, whatever you are!" Harry screamed at it. It grinned wider.

"If you're going to put it that way..." it said. There was a bang, a considerable amount of smoke, and several stars. A tall girl stood in it's place, her robes swirling around her legs and trim figure. They were such a dark purple that they were almost black. Her hair was dark brown. She had the tanned look of someone who spent a lot of time out of doors and had the smell of someone who owned a lot of pets. She extended a thin hand and grinned. "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Potter. Lord Mort was speaking to me of you just this morning. It seems that in a way you have cheated death. I heard your cry for help and couldn't help but be intrigued. How may I help you?"

Harry stared. "Um-er-well..." He gulped. "I suppose you could tell me where I am and how to get to the nearest airport?" His voice cracked on the last word. He blushed furiously. This seemed to amuse her.

"You my friend, are in the Forest of Eternal Rest." She giggled again. "How silly of me not to introduce myself, I fear I am not well-acquainted with humans. My name is Lady Canis, Mistress and Keeper of all animals. Forgive me for neglecting to say so earlier. Is an airport, by any chance, one of those places with large aluminum bird-like things that make a terrible amount of noise and don't fly well at all?"

"Um, yes, actually. Do you know where one is? It would be awfully helpful." Harry thought for a moment. "Who's Lord Mort?"

She smiled. "He is of no concern to you, Mr. Potter." She giggled for the third time. "You are many, many miles away from an airport, I fear. However, if you use your broom and fly about five hundred miles to the north you should be able to find a small town where people there will perhaps be able to better instruct you on where to find an airport." She glanced at the sun, and her mouth formed an 'O' of surprise. "My gracious, time has slipped by so quickly without my noticing! How very unusual. Well, Mr. Potter, it certainly has been a pleasure meeting you, good luck on your travels!" There was another bang and Harry saw a white dove flying off into the trees. Subconsciously, he remembered the line from Monty Python and the Holy Grail: "What a strange person." He grinned and picked up his broom.

*

"How am I supposed to know where he ran off to?" Jack demanded angrily. Remembering who he was talking to, he quieted down and looked at his feet, shuffling them and muttering something along the lines of 'Sorry, sir".

Lord Mort gave him a disgusted look. "I entrusted you to watching out for one of the four people on this planet who are in the same situation and you let him escape! I should've know not to trust a bumbling fool such as yourself take care of this, you shall be grievously punished." Jack paled. "I fear it may be something along the lines of-" the Lord of Death was cut short by an augrey beating one of its wings against the blackened window of the office. He waved his hand -or, rather, the space where his hand would be- casually and the window opened. The augrey entered and dropped a note on his scorched desk. Lord Mort picked it up and read it quickly. Then he grinned {* Or, he would have ginned had he had a real face and mouth}. "It appears that Fate is smiling in your general direction. Lady Canis has just written me that she has met your client in the," he pulled a face {*if he had one, that is}, "Forest of Eternal Rest. She pointed him to the town some five-hundred miles north of it. Pequea, I believe it is called. If you're lucky you might be able to get there in time to catch him. Now get out."

Jack did not hesitate to obey the orders. Lord Mort was possibly the scariest of the eight Lords. At least the rest of them had bodies; Lord Mort was just a black cloak hanging on the thin frame of someone you could only see if you really tried hard. Technically he was invisible, but when you looked through his hand or his head, if you were daring enough, things on the other side were distorted. Several other Lords in the past had commented on this, and found that they had received a very short and personal visit from him. He was only the third Lord of Death since the God in charge of Fire, Water, Air, Chaos, Animals, Life, Earth, and Death had gotten tired of doing so and hired people to do it for him. Lords of Death tended to stick around for awhile.

Once outside of Lord Mort's building -a very tall, rickety, and foreboding looking structure- he looked around for a clear spot to apparate from. A large white horse tied to the wooden rail whickered and pricked it's ears. Jack gave its nose a pat as he passed and walked over to a clearing. He had never been to Pequea, which would make it difficult, but the dead gained something on the living when it came to apparating. If you knew the name of the place and something it happens to be near, you have an 80% chance of getting there. Jack closed his eyes and concentrated. Quite suddenly, he wasn't there and all that remained was a small scorched part of the brown and dried grass.

*

Harry's feet banged down onto a rock when he first arrived in Pequea. Limping slightly and cursing, he started to walk toward the town. It looked small and remote, perhaps the kind of place that was entirely self-sufficient and had its own currency. By the look of it, the currency was chickens, cows and any other farm animal you could trade. He slowed his progress, perhaps people here wouldn't know what an airport was. In that case he would have to ask the way to the next town. He didn't think he could stand flying anymore, the Firebolt would lurch occasionally and his bottom was getting sore. He supposed he could risk apparating, but in a forest so obviously magical as this, he couldn't be sure what the outcome would be.

"I'm not sure what the outcome would be but I'm betting it couldn't be all that bad." Jack had appeared at his side quite suddenly. "I just apparated here."

Harry was about ready to strangle someone. "What are you doing here?!" he yelled. "I thought I had gotten rid of you! How did you find me?" He heaved and glared at Jack, who had backed off slightly.

"Um, technically I'm supposed to be with you at all times and when I don't I get in very big trouble," he said sheepishly. This was followed by some shuffling of feet and several steps backwards. "I didn't make the rules and if you get out by yourself we're both in big trouble." He gave him a wary look.

Harry calmed down slightly. At least he'd finally found out why Jack was following him everywhere. "What kind of trouble would we get in?" he asked in his friendliest growl.

"It's not fun, I know that much. Supposedly it's very painful. If you want to know all the details ask Voldemort, I think he knows a little more about it than I do."

Harry felt another pang of guilt. It couldn't be all Voldemort's fault... But it was. He rearranged his mind to accommodate the fact that Jack was looking out for both of them and the only reason he followed him was because he had to. "How did you find me?" He asked as calmly as he could at the moment. His voice still sounded agitated, but at least he didn't sound like he was ready to kill someone on the spot.

"Lord Mort told me." Jack suddenly looked terrified. "Um, I mean, someone told me you were headed this way and..." He trailed off after seeing the curious look on Harry's face.

"Who's this Lord Mort? Some lady in the forest mentioned him... Lady Canis I think she was... Why does everyone who's dead or possessing of some large amount of power know about him but I'm semi-dead and I have know idea who he is?"

"No one you need to be concerned about as long as I'm with you."

"It's not Voldemort is it?"

"No! No, of course not. He's just someone you really don't need to be concerned about. Don't waste your thoughts on him." He had such a tone of finality in his voice that it was hard to argue with him. Harry fixed his eyes on the small wooden huts in the village. His mind was slowly turning his situation over and over in slow, lazy circles. He his mental list went something like this:

1) He was clinically dead, and for some reason able to walk around and be otherwise normal.

2) There was an occasionally annoying spirit following him around that no one else could see.

2a) This sprit and Voldemort seemed to be watching him.

2b) There was nothing he could do about this.

3) Someone called "Lord Mort" was involved.

3a) No one would talk about Lord Mort.

4) Continued existence in England was basically impossible.

5) People were looking at him strangely.

"Look as normal as possible, please," Jack hissed into his ear.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, just as he realized what exactly Jack meant. Everyone around Harry looked suspiciously 14th century. There was even a large castle in the middle of the village. Even Jack was wearing clothes that looked appropriate for the supposed time period.

"'Ere! You!" A small man wearing rags approached Harry, his index finger outstretched and pointing. "You there! Where do ye come from?" he grinned manically at Harry.

"What should I say?" Harry hissed to Jack, who mouthed something along the lines of "Spain." "But I don't speak Spanish!" Harry hissed back, becoming more hopeless as villagers grinned at him and whispers sounding like 'madman' broke out. Jack sighed, and vanished. There was suddenly and occupied sort of feeling in his brain.

"Hola," he heard himself saying without his mind actually authorizing it. "Me llamo Timotaeo. Me gusta-er-la comida italiana, football, y la musica rock." He felt himself grinning insanely. The villagers nodded and went back to their business, muttering about "bloody Spaniards." There was a sudden emptiness in his head and Jack reappeared next to him.

"What did you just do?" he growled. Jack simply shrugged.

"Occasionally possession is required."

"Don't do it again!" Harry almost shouted. "That was a very uncomfortable feeling."

"Yeah, and you've some nasty images in that mind of yours. Let's find an airport." Jack and Harry left quietly the way they came and Harry climbed on his broomstick. After a brief discussion on the fact that Jack couldn't fly and the fact that Harry was not letting Jack onto the back of the Firebolt they both decided it was better for Jack to apparate and Harry to fly. There was, however, confusion on where to end up.

"Why not that big field that airports always have around them?" Jack suggested.

"See, there's two problems with them."

"What?"

"The airplanes and the fact that there are no trees or covering to hide me. I would apparate but I'm not sure my Earthly body would stand up against the magic," he added sarcastically.

Jack thought for a moment. "Aren't there usually forests or lakes or something around airports? Didn't you bring your invisibility cloak?" Harry slapped his forehead.

"I forgot!" he exclaimed. "I'll just use that, land in some abandoned reach of the parking lot or something. I'll meet you at the airport." Jack nodded and disappeared with a small wisp of smoke. Harry sighed yet again and set off into the sky.

***

About three hours later Harry landed in the parking lot of the London airport, wondering why he hadn't just gone here first. Putting it down to panic and confusion and overall Voldemort, he shrank his broom and walked toward the terminal. Every once and awhile a woman would announce that one pilot or another had a call to take or to call a child to the security desk. As he neared the baggage stations he spotted Jack, and walked casually in his general direction. Jack was currently talking with the spirit of an old custodian, hopefully attempting to explain to the man that he was now dead and mopping the floor didn't really make a difference anymore. Harry sidled up to Jack, and tapped him on the shoulder.

"I'm really serious you can - hello, Harry." Jack looked at the custodian and sighed. "You really have to feel bad for those people that get their life stuck in a rut and don't stop what they're doing, even after they've died." Harry nodded and they watched people for several minutes. "You'd better go and get you ticket, the not many planes go to the states." Harry nodded and set off. After waiting in line for what seemed like ages, he arrived at the counter and was taken by surprise by who was standing there.

"One ticket for Potter heading to America," Voldemort said sarcastically, typing information into a computer nonchalantly. "One way, any particular city?" he grinned evilly, "or do I get to pick?"

"What are you doing here?" Harry hissed, not realizing for a moment that normal people had just seen the young counter attendant ask Harry his name and he had asked her quite nastily what she was doing there.

"Denver it is then," Voldemort said, typing it in. "I'm just doing my job." He shrugged, typing something else into the machine. "How many bags do you plan to take with you?"

"I thought that was all up to Jack!" Harry almost yelled. Several blue-clad security officers were now watching with interest.

"Twelve? Right, that's ten pounds per extra piece so your total is now £4,392, which has been immediately deducted from your checking account." He hit a few keys on the board and grinned. "See you in America." There was a swooshing noise and he evaporated into smoke, letting Harry see for the first time the blonde and rather confused and frightened counter attendant. He felt a pair of hands close down on each arm. Alarmed he looked at the owners of the hands, and became quite alarmed.

"What is your name, sir?" asked on security guard personably, though his grin countered his pleasant tone.

"Harry Potter," Harry said nervously, hoping to high heaven that one of the security guards was a wizard. "I'm sorry about that, I was having an issue." An idea popped into his mind. "Occasionally if I don't take my medication I think people are someone else, it only lasts about five minutes, I think I'm over it now..." He grinned feebly, hoping they were stupid enough to fall for it.

"Are you sure-" the larger guard started, but was cut off by his counterpart.

"My auntie had that," said the guard, looking rather glazed. His accent had a strange hint of American. "I say we let him go..." the guard glaned at the other's name tag briefly, "...Fred. He can't really help it."

Fred nodded grudgingly, letting go of Harry's arm. The other guard lat go and walked away, looking confused. Jack had suddenly appeared. "Your ticket's in your pocket. We'd best get to your gate. Plane leaves soon." Jack and Harry walked off, made it through security (Jack set the alarm off, which rather puzzled the guards), and wandered down to Harry's gate. They boarded without incident an took their seats in the back of the plane.

"Trust Voldemort to get me the worst seat on the plane," Harry griped. His seat was right by the engine, and as soon as the pilot turned the airplane on and booted up the engines the ride was unbelievably loud. Somehow, halfway through the trip, Harry managed to fall asleep.



End Part 3

A/n: *grins* I finally got this part out! I am so proud of myself. I've taken a renewed interest in this story, so I promise if you give me reviews I'll get the next part out soon! =) Peace out y'all, and Sean Biggerstaff in my hottie!

~~Twist, who worships Sean Biggerstaff