Disclaimer:  I don't own Harry Potter and Co.  J.K. Rowling does.

Summary:  Death comes to pay the boy-who-keeps-avoiding-him a visit.  How is Harry going to explain Death's presence to his friends? Think "Meet Joe Black".

Author's note:  And another chapter!  Oh, how I love this story!  (If I do say so myself…)

Chapter 3: Room and Board

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"So, you're going to need to stay somewhere…" said Harry to the boy.

            "I am staying here," said Death.

            "Here?"

            "Yes, with you."

            Harry rubbed the bridge of his nose.  "My aunt's going to kill me…"

            "I am sure you will find a way to explain it."

            "But how--"

            Death looked into Harry's eyes.  "I am sure you will find a way to explain it," he repeated.

            Harry got the message.  Death was staying.

            "All right, let me just go downstairs and talk to her.  But I don't think she'll agree…"  Harry headed towards his door.

            "Good.  I will come with you."

            Harry turned around.  "Why don't you just stay here?"

            "I would like to meet your aunt."

            "Trust me, you don't."

            Death walked towards the door.  "And I do not think you are in a position to tell me what I want."

            Harry gritted his teeth.  "Fine."

            Harry and the boy walked downstairs.  Aunt Petunia was by the window watching the neighbors.

            "Aunt Petunia?" asked Harry.  "Is it okay if my friend stays with me?"

            Petunia turned around sharply.  "What?"

            Harry took a deep breath.  "My friend," he gestured towards the boy.  "He needs a place to stay.  It's only until I go to school."

            "And just who is your friend?" asked Petunia harshly.

            "Um… he's… not like me.  He's… normal."  Harry was trying to appeal to Aunt Petunia's abhorrence towards "freaks".  "He's a friend from down the street.  His family's on vacation."

            "Oh really?  And who is his family?"
            "Um… they're new to this neighborhood… they just moved here."

            "I didn't hear about anyone moving in."  Aunt Petunia peered out the window as if she would be able to see the new family Harry was talking about.

            Harry took a side-glance at Death.  He seemed amused by the whole situation.  "Um… that's because they haven't moved in yet," said Harry quickly.  "They will be moving in.  But they're taking a vacation first."

            "Without their son?" asked Aunt Petunia skeptically.

            Harry decided to switch tactics.  "Well, his older brother got into the same school I go to--"

            Aunt Petunia glared at Harry.  "I thought you said he was normal."

            "He is!  I mean, only his brother is… like me.  His parents are normal too.  But he couldn't go visit my school with his brother because they only want to meet the parents and the student."

            Petunia wrinkled her nose.  "This never happened with your mother or you.  I was never left behind, although I gladly would have been…those freaks."

            Harry had an idea.  "But Hogwarts wants me to take care of him while his family is gone.  They asked me too."

            That got her.  Petunia pursed her lips.  "Fine.  But only until his family returns.  As soon as they're back, he's going straight home.  I've already got enough of a headache with you around."

            "Don't worry.  When I leave for school, he'll leave."  Harry smiled.  "Thanks Aunt Petunia."

            "And mow the lawn.  If a new family is moving in, I don't want our house looking like a dump."

It was an uncharacteristically bright day.  Harry pushed the lawn mower back and forth over the lawn.  Death followed him slowly.

            "So what are you feeling right now?" asked Death.

            "Hot."

            Death looked thoughtful.  "Yes, it is… warm out here.  But I was talking about your emotions."

            "I'm feeling tired, frustrated, and irritable," said Harry with annoyance.  "And why are you following me?"

            "I enjoy the exercise."

            Harry finished with the lawn and turned off the mower to put it away in the garage.  He still couldn't believe that Death was visiting him.  It didn't make much sense, even for Harry.  And there was no way that Harry was going to tell Dumbledore or anyone about Death's visit.  It could cause problems, especially if Death wasn't going to reveal who would be dying.  People would most likely assume Harry was insane, anyway.  That always happened whenever Harry saw something unusual.  And Harry had just convinced everybody that Voldemort had returned.  He didn't want to go through last year again.  Yes, it was better if he kept Death's visit under wraps… after all, I wouldn't want to spoil Death's vacation, thought Harry a bit bitterly.

            Harry turned towards Death, who was examining Vernon's car.  "Um, how are you here?" he asked rather vaguely.
            "What do you mean?" asked the boy, pushing the door's lock up and down through the open window.

            "I mean, if you're not a material thing, then how can I see you?  How can you touch things?"

            "I borrowed a body."

            "You mean you…"

            "Took someone's body," Death finished.

            "In English.  Does that mean you killed someone just to come here?"

            Death stopped flipping the lock.  "I needed a body," he said simply.

            "But what about the boy's family?  Aren't they upset??"

            "I guess so."  Death moved toward the wall of Vernon's tools.

            "That's incredibly heartless."

            "Heartless?  And what does that feel like?" asked Death as he examined a pair of pliers.

            "Feel like?  You just killed a kid my age and you want to know what heartless feels like??"

            "Yes."

            Harry looked angrily at Death.  "'Heartless' is when you do cruel things for fun.  When you don't care about the people you're hurting.  'Heart'-'less'… 'without a heart'.  Get it?"

            Death held the pliers up to the light as he opened and closed them.  "It looks like you and I might not get along as well as I thought.  You do not seem to understand what I do."  Death set the pliers down and turned to face a rather upset Harry.  "You see, Harry," explained Death.  "Because I am a spirit, I do not have a heart.  So by default, I will always be 'heartless', according to your definition."

            "You just shouldn't be killing people for no reason!  That's what I meant!" burst out Harry.

            The boy's eyes flashed angrily.  "I had a reason.  The boy's time to leave was coming and I needed a body to visit this world.  So I had two reasons."  Death paused a moment and Harry didn't dare cut in.  Death's stare was enough to silence him.  "Harry, do you understand what my purpose is?" asked Death.

            "Um…"

            "I take things away from this earth.  I am autumn.  I am winter.  I am war. I am famine.  I am disease.  The virus.  The flu.  I am the car running the red light.  I am the drive by shooting.  I am the man with the gun.  I am the thoughts that drive a person to take their life away.  I am the fire on a plane.  I am the hole in a parachute. I am the hydrogen bomb.  I am every fatal bullet, every deadly poison, every last breath.  I am Death, and I am nothing else.  My purpose is to lead people away from their life.  You do not blame Time for your aging or Life for the unwanted child.  Nature does not grieve for her floods and Fate does not mourn an unhappy ending.  So why are you angry with me?  I am merely caring out my purpose, like all the other elements.  I am necessary.  Just think of a world without me."

            Harry stared wide-eyed at Death.  His speech was frank and oddly powerful.  Harry imagined what it would be like without Death.  True, there would be no wars and no Voldemort, and Harry's parents would still be alive, but the world would also be filled with a huge amount of immortal people.  Harry thought back to Nicholas Flammel.  Even he got tired of immortality.  And the suffering.  Without Death, there would be terrible suffering.  Burn victims, cancer victims, anyone in terrible pain would have no release from their agony.  Yes, Death was a necessity, even if it was sometimes unwanted.

            "I understand now," said Harry.  "I just wish it could be different."

            The boy smiled and strolled towards the front door.  He picked a flower and deeply breathed in its scent.  "Maybe you and I will get along after all."

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