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".

Chapter 5: The First of September

----------------

Twelve days had passed and Harry was packing his things for school. Apparently, Dumbledore didn't want Harry wandering around in public places; he ordered Remus to buy Harry's school supplies for him. Everything had been delivered earlier that week.

"You're positive you want to come to school with me?" asked Harry as he stuffed the last robe into his trunk.

"Yes." Death was staring out the window, absently picking at the paint on the windowsill.

"But I have no idea how to smuggle you in!" Harry pushed on his trunk, trying to close it. "Everyone will notice if a non-student suddenly starts following me around Hogwarts!"

"Then make me a student."

"It's not that simple." Harry sat on his trunk and bounced, trying to close it. "You have to be a wizard, they have to send you a letter, you're parents probably have to sign something, you'll probably need money, and, oh yeah, you can't be inhabiting a dead guy's body!"

With one final bounce, Harry was finally able to snap his trunk closed. "Look, I can't take you to Hogwarts. There's just no way to do it. You'll have to find some other way to occupy yourself."

Death slowly turned around to face Harry. "Do you realize how uninteresting and emotionless my vacation will be if I am not with you at your school?"

Death walked towards Harry. "Do you realize that I will not learn a single thing about emotions if I am not around you?"

Death was now right in front of Harry, his eyes staring intently into Harry's, his face so close that Harry could feel the boy's breath against his lips. Even though the boy was only a tiny bit taller than Harry, his expression and stance made Harry feel afraid and uncomfortable.

The boy leaned in towards Harry. "Do you realize," Death whispered into Harry's ear, "That someone you love will die sooner just because you would not bring a guest to school?"

Harry gulped.

Death straightened back up, clasped his hands behind his back, and smiled expectantly.

"I— I'm sure the other kids would believe me if I said you were a transfer student," Harry said nervously. "And I'm sure Dumbledore would let you attend Hogwarts if you helped me persuade him."

Death smiled and nodded approvingly. "Good. I knew you would find a way. By the way, how do you feel?"

"Right now?" asked Harry, looking uneasily around.

"Yes."

"Well," said Harry, "I'm nervous, and a little apprehensive, and maybe even excited."

"Why?"

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Nervous because I hold the life of a friend in my hands. Apprehensive because I don't want to get caught trying to get you into Hogwarts. And excited because in about half an hour, I'll be leaving the Dursleys."

"I see," said Death thoughtfully. He turned and went back to staring out the window.

During the silence, Harry thought over the plans for Death's attendance to Hogwarts. Ever since that TV thing with Uncle Vernon, Harry had noticed how… convincing Death could be. Harry was sure Death could convince Dumbledore to let him into Hogwarts. And yet, he worried that Dumbledore would see through it, that he would know who the boy really was. After all, what were the chances that the headmaster would let a complete stranger follow Harry, the top person on Voldemort's hit list, around all day? If Death really wanted to attend Hogwarts, he would have mind-wash the world's greatest wizard.

"Um, you're not going to hurt Dumbledore just to get into Hogwarts, are you?" Harry asked, "I mean, I don't really care about Uncle Vernon, but I don't want Dumbledore to be hurt. How will you convince him, anyway?"

Death once again turned to face Harry. "Leaving this world is often cloaked in mystery. Many find me frightening and yet oddly alluring. Death can be very tempting, even if one does not wish to die. People will listen to me and follow me whenever I want them to until I release them. I can convince people because I am the greatest influence. I hold the ultimate answer to the most crucial question of every living thing."

"When will I die?" whispered Harry in answer.

"Yes. That is the question. People obey me because I know that answer. I never force anybody to do anything; rather, people are tempted by that question and will do anything to gain the knowledge of the answer. Dumbledore will let me in of his own free will; he will do anything I ask of him because he, too, will want to know that answer to that question. He cannot help it. Nobody can help it."

As Harry stared into the soulless depths of Death's eyes, he understood the meaning of Death's words.

"Then why don't you use your 'convincing' skills everywhere?" asked Harry, confused. "Why didn't you 'convince' my aunt that you should stay? Why don't you just 'convince' me to explain emotions to you? Why do I need to be involved at all?"

Death smiled and shook his head slightly. "If you were not involved, then I would not have any experience. I would not be able to witness anything first hand. I would not truly understand anything about emotions. I would not get to see you struggle with explanations, excuses, and feelings. It would not be very interesting. My vacation would be ruined."

"But why--"

At this point, there was a shout from Petunia. "Get down here!" she yelled to Harry. "I don't want to be late for our luncheon after we drop you off! Hurry up now!"

There was a pause. "But why--" started Harry again.

The boy smiled at Harry. "Your Aunt wants us to go now. We should respect her wishes. After all, she is driving me all the way to King's Cross just so I can meet up with my 'family'." Death's face shone with amusement.

"But--"

"No more questions. It is time to go."

Harry grumbled and gathered his things. They headed downstairs, past Aunt Petunia ("Would you kindly hurry up?"), and into the car where Uncle Vernon and Dudley were waiting. Harry stuffed his school things into the trunk and sat down between Dudley and the boy. The two boys and Dudley found it rather hard to sit comfortably in the back seat.

"Mum! I can hardly breathe!" Dudley complained. "He's taking up all the room!"

Harry didn't know whom his cousin was referring to. Death managed to look amused even though he was squished up against the door.

"Mum! I mean it! Can't we just leave them here?"

Petunia turned around and looked at her son sympathetically. "Don't worry, Dudleykins, we'll be at King's Cross in no time."

Petunia was almost right; the time it actually took to get to King's Cross was shorter than expected, but Dudley's constant whining made it feel like a lifetime. Harry couldn't remember a time when Dudley looked more relieved than he did when Harry and the boy got out of the car.

As the car sped off into the distance, Harry sighed and picked up his trunk. Glancing at the large clock on the wall, he could see that they were two hours early. "I guess Aunt Petunia couldn't wait to get me out of the house…" Harry muttered.

Harry started walking towards Platform 9 ¾, but stopped when he realized Death wasn't following him. Harry looked around frantically, finally spotting Death near the newspaper stand.

"What are you doing over here?" asked Harry as he approached the boy.

"Looking at these delightful little books." Death smiled as he picked up a brochure about a local golf course. "They seem so fascinating."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Only for those people who are easily amused."

"I wonder if I can buy one of these," the boy said, ignoring Harry's somewhat rude comment. Harry felt oddly relieved.

"You can take as many as you want, you know," said Harry, trying to be nice. "They're free."

"Really?" asked the boy. "I can keep any of them?"

"You can take all the brochures on that stand, if you wanted to."

Death examined the golf brochure some more before setting it back down on the stand. He picked up several new brochures and put them in his pocket.

"Are you ready to go to the platform?" asked Harry.

Death patted his pocket. "Quite."

Harry led Death towards Platform 9 ¾ and showed the boy how to get across. Death seemed to have no problem going right through the brick wall.

Predictably, there was no one else on the platform. The two of them sat down on a bench and waited. The boy seemed content just examining the brochures and Harry pulled out a book. Death asked Harry twice how he was feeling.

Harry was grateful for this one bit of peace before he had to explain to everyone why Death should join Hogwarts as a student. Harry was apprehensive about facing his friends. He didn't know which person was going to die. Harry thought for a bit about Death and which friend he would have to lose, but even thinking about the matter made Harry distressed.

And Voldemort… how could Harry have forgotten about last spring? He hadn't even glanced at a newspaper over the summer and the arrival of Death made Harry forget all about the news Remus had told him. School had seemed a lot more exciting earlier that morning. Now, Harry just wanted to go back to the Dursleys. At least Death made things interesting and he never asked Harry about Sirius or Voldemort. Sure, the boy annoyed Harry and was slightly uncomfortable to be around, but he was never mean or—which was infinitely worse—agreeably understanding, as if Harry was a charity case or made of fine china.

Harry's thoughts were interrupted when he started to notice students entering the platform with their families. Harry looked down at the book he had intended to read more of, noticing that he had absently flipped through several pages and, consequently, lost his place. He put the book away and was just about to ask Death what he intended to do about clothing, when a family a redheads (plus one brunette) entered the platform.

Harry froze, hoping for some unexplainable reason that his friends would not see him. The trick did not work, however, and Harry soon found himself wrapped tightly in the arms of Ron and Hermione.

"Harry!" squealed Hermione. "I've been so worried! How are you?"

Ron gave Harry a friendly punch on the shoulder. "How's life, Harry?"

"Did you get our packages, Harry?" asked Hermione. "We were only allowed to send three to you because Dumbledore thought it might be dangerous."

"More importantly, Harry, have you heard any news?" asked Ron. "About you-know-what?"

"We've been trying to spy on the meetings, but we can never hear anything."

"Even the twin's new 'Drifting Eye' invention can't pick up any information. I don't see why--"

Ron stopped. Death had stood up and positioned himself next to Harry.

"Um, who's that?" asked Ron, a little bluntly.

Warning bells went off in Harry's head. Harry looked at Death, then at Ron, then over at Hermione, then back at Death. What was Death's name? He had completely forgotten to give Death a name! The Dursleys never cared to ask and Harry had never thought of it. Harry mentally slapped himself on the head. How did he ever think Death could attend Hogwarts without a name?

"Um, he's a friend of mine," said Harry, stalling for time.

"From where?" asked Hermione suspiciously.

"You know, from around…" answered Harry vaguely.

There was a pause. When Harry glanced over at Death, the boy seemed entertained by the whole situation.

"Does your friend have a name?" asked Ron.

"A name?" Harry looked to Death for help.

"As in something you call someone…" pressed Ron.

"Um, yeah. It's--" Harry drew a blank. "It's--" Just say a name! Any name! Harry said the first name he could think of. "…Jack."

Death grinned.

"Jack?" Hermione raised an eyebrow. "And does 'Jack' have a last name?"

Harry pulled on his collar. "A last name?" He smiled uncertainly.

Hermione nodded.

"Of course he has a last name… It's--"

Harry looked around the station for inspiration. Longbottom? Goyle? Hogwarts Express?

Ron itched his nose absently.

"Scratch," said Harry. "His last name's Scratch."

"Well then." Ron gave Harry a funny look as he reached out his hand. "Nice to meet you, Jack Scratch."

Death smirked and shook Ron's hand. "Nice to meet you, too, Ron Weasley."

Hermione smiled pleasantly as she put out her hand. "And I'm Hermione Granger. Nice to see you."

Death shook her hand. "Likewise," he purred in a soft voice.

Hermione shivered. Harry had no doubt that Death had already known Hermione's name, just as he had known Ron's name, and most likely knew everything else, too.

"Jack's a transfer student," said Harry quickly, trying to stop more of Hermione's questions. "He's going to be staying with me."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Does Dumbledore know about this?"

"Oh yes," said Harry, nodding vigorously, a flush rising to his cheeks. "Definitely."

"But--"

"Why don't we get a compartment?" asked Harry, abruptly changing the conversation. "I don't want to end up with Malfoy."

Ron and Hermione said nothing, but Harry could tell they were just saving their questions for another time.

Together, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and the newly named Jack boarded the train and found an empty compartment. Ginny was happy sitting with her friends in a separate compartment and the other 6th year Gryffindors were nowhere to be found.

The group sat down in an uncomfortable silence. Soon, the train gave a lurch and they started the long journey to Hogwarts.

-----------------

Um… I realized I had a few chapters already written from, like, a year ago. Sorry…

-heart- Adah