Death Becomes Him: Chapter 4
By: Twist
A/n: Hey y'all! What's up? If you're not good, then: awwww. If you are: Terrific! I have the flu! Anyway, this is the first fic I'm typing on my new computer, and I'm just feeling all special over here. That's why this chapter took so long anyway, I had to transport all of my files, and those of you who've done that know how much fun it is, especially when the last computer doesn't have a CD/RW drive. Curse it! Anyway, please read, enjoy, and review. =)
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"Excuse me? Sir?" Harry was aware of a quiet voice and a small nudging on his shoulder. "Sir? Sir, the plane has landed."
"What?" Harry asked, rather groggily.
"The plane has landed. You're in Denver now."
"Oh, oh yes. Sorry," Harry said stretching and yawning. It felt odd, inhaling air and not really needing to. Almost like eating those extra few bites of turkey at Christmas. "What time is it?" He asked.
"It's four in the morning."
"Damn him," Harry muttered. He caught the look on her face. "Never mind, my friend booked this flight for me, that's all." He realized what a huge thing he had just said, shortly after the sentence had spilled from his mouth. He had called Voldemort his friend. Jack materialized next to him.
"So are you actually going to get off of this plane or what?" he asked. "I really want to see the mother country again."
"Couldn't you have just gone off any time you wanted?" Harry asked.
"No, not really," Jack said. "I can't do anything without the permission of the main head council thing and they usually don't grant personal counselors like myself little pleasures like that."
Harry wandered off of the plane and went down to the baggage claim. There were families reuniting there, hugging and kissing and so forth. There was Voldemort there, grinning evilly.
"Why are you everywhere I go?" Harry hissed in frustration. "You're always showing up at least once a day! Just stop stalking me, alright?"
"Temper, temper. I, incidentally, am the one who made sure your baggage was burned ceremonially. It's smoldering in the parking lot somewhere now. All evidence of you must be destroyed, after all. We can't have someone without any obvious vital signs walking around."
"Who's Lord Mort?" Harry asked suddenly. If he was someone evil, Voldemort would be the one to ask. Voldemort chocked on his cigarette, wheezed slightly and managed to gasp:
"What?"
"Lord Mort, you obviously know who he is, and he's obviously rather evil if just his name gave you, almighty Dark Lord, that kind of reaction. You've smoke coming out of your ears, by the way." After several minutes of hacking, gagging, choking and generally being dramatic, Voldemort disappeared. "He was helpful," Harry said.
"What'd you ask him?" Jack asked, magically appearing at Harry's shoulder. It was amazing how someone could materialize like that. But then, there is something slightly amazing about having a dead person following you around.
"Who Lord Mort is."
"I'm not surprised," Jack said dryly. "He's probably one of the only people that knows the full extent of Mort's wrath." His face fell. "I shouldn't have told you that," he said.
"So this Lord Mort guy has power over Voldemort and a wrath," Harry said. "And no one wants to talk about him. Just tell me who he is. Even Voldemort's scared of him."
"I told you to forget about him," Jack said suddenly. "And I intended that to be an order. Do you have any luggage you need to pick up? I want to get out of here."
"No, Voldemort burned it." Harry walked along for awhile, thinking. "What about my Firebolt and cloak?" Harry became aware that his right pocket was a bit bulgier and there was a broomstick in his hand. "Ah, that answers that question, then."
"So . . ." Jack said, obviously not intending to really say anything at all but merely seeing if there was anything in particular Harry wanted to ask. They two walked on in silence for a bit and once they were down to the subway that would transport them to the main terminal Jack finally asked: "What is it exactly that you're planning to do here? Live as a Muggle? Find love? Anything in specific at all or are we just going to wander around?"
"I think," Harry said, already adjusting to the fact that people stared at him when he spoke out loud to loudly. "I think first I should show my passport to prove that we're – I'm, sorry – not in the country illegally. Then perhaps I will find lodging but I honestly don't think Colorado is the place for me to be."
A little girl walked over to Harry and pulled gently on his cloak. He looked down and raised his eyebrows. "Are you Harry Potter?" she asked, revealing a space where her two front teeth should have been. "You look an awful lot like him." Harry wasn't sure what to say, when the girl's mother rescued him."
"Now, now Kara. Harry Potter isn't a real person, remember? He's only real in storybooks." She looked at Harry. "Sorry, sir. She has a bit of an overactive imagination and that Rowling woman's books don't help the situation."
"Oh, it happens all the time," Harry said dazedly. "No problem." I ignoring the little girl's shrieks about his being British, Harry looked out the window at the walls of the small subway system that transported passengers from the concourses to the terminal. "This is rather high-tech for an airport," he said.
Jack grinned. "America is the biggest, baddest nation in the world."
"Patriotic, are we?"
"Very." Climbing off of the subway, Harry glanced around. The terminal was bloody massive. There were restaurants, bars, and even a hotel. The map in front of him was also telling him there was an arcade somewhere on the premises.
"You're right. This is the biggest, baddest airport I've ever been into." Harry continued to gaze around in wonder.
"And how many airports have you ever set foot into before?" Jack asked, walking along next to him.
"Two, if you count this one."
"Ah. Customs is to your left, Harry."
Customs seemed to take forever. Not quite as long as my experience with customs in Cancun (God, did that take forever) but it was still painful. Harry did not have a passport, so he had to produce one out of thin air. There were several advantages to being a wizard when you went through customs. After about one and a half hours (A/n: Honestly, the only time I've ever been through customs is in Cancun. I have no idea how long customs in Denver would take.) Harry walked down to the luggage claim.
"Now what do I do?" Harry asked. "I've no clue. I've never been to America before this."
"Do you have a driver's license?"
"Not an American one, no. Come to that, I've never taken a driver's test. But how hard can it be?"
"I think public transport would be the way to go," Jack said abruptly. "If you've never driven before in your life I'm not going to let you tackle to roads of America, especially Denver." He grabbed Harry's arm. "Bus pick-up is over there."
A/n: And so Harry boy is in America. What shall his adventures be? And what shall happen in the next epic chapter? Chapter 5'll come faster, I promise. But for now, thou must be content to read my insane bio and review this story. *evil grin* And you will do that, won't you?