Inspired by:
• "A Second Chance" by "sakurademonalchemist"
• "Atypical Adoption" by "Lucillia"
• Year 2000.
Harry was shaking, staring at all three Deathly Hallows. And fighting a strong urge to pull out his hair.
"I don't get it!" Harry suddenly exclaimed. "I've snapped them in half, bloody burned them to nothing. Tartarus, I even just locked them in my vault. But somehow, in some way, they always find their way back to me. Doesn't matter what I do to them, or where I put them. They are bloody stalking me!!!"
Ollivander, the famous wand maker, looked over at the most powerful instruments ever known to wizarding kind. The Cloak of invisibility, capable of hiding from death herself. The Stone of Resurrection, allowing for communication with any spirit. Even the ones trapped in the land of the dead. Then there was the Elder Wand. Wands being Ollivander's speciality. With this one being quite literally the most powerful in the world.
Ollivander picked up the wand and held it to his ear, knowing how to listen to it's desires. The wand chooses the wizard. Well not self aware, there was an echo of intelligence to them, and Ollivander was shocked to hear what this wand had to say.
Putting it down, Ollivander looked at the young man before him. Still looking very much a boy, and decided to take it on himself to educate the lad.
"Do you know the Origins of wizarding kind?" Ollivander asked. Finding himself almost laughing as the child's shoulders slumped. Although he was too polite to tell the old man he just wanted to know why these things were stalking him. "Don't worry, it's relevant."
Harry sighed, "No Sir. They hadn't covered that at Hogwarts."
Ollivander sighed back. 200 years ago, when he was in school, it was a matter of pride that young wizards and witches were taught their legends.
"It's an ancient myth. Going back further then recorded history." Ollivander explained. "It's said wizarding kind came into existence, as a result of gods taking human lovers. Now we are by no means demigods. Our blood is far too diluted for that, but it does explain why some families hold certain talents others don't... Such as the ability to command serpents,"
Harry frowned. Dumbledore had thought it was Voldemort's influence that gave him that power... but Harry had never lost the talent. It stayed long after the connection was severed.
"Or how the Ollivanders have always had a feel for magic.
"It's said that sometimes gods still reach out to us. Sending out powerful artifacts to test potential Champions. Who are then chosen as muses, or rather 'Avatars', of their god."
Harry gulped, not liking were this was going.
"The Deathly Hallows are said to be similar objects. Created by a much more picky god. Designed to find her champion" Ollivander watched the boy shake his head. Clearly not wanting to hear it, but the old man knew he had to. "It seems, they found their muse."
• 2007:
As the years went by, Harry slowly learned more and more about his new powers as an "Avatar of Death" particularly on the day he died. Which turned out to be a minor inconvenience for him. That was the day, he met his god.
Harry groaned, more on reflex then pain. Waking up in a familiar place. It was king's cross... only cleaner, brighter, and A LOT emptier.
He was here, again, just like the last time he died. This newest incident, had not been do to a deranged wizard, but rather... an accident, not even potions related. He had crashed his car, swerving out of the way of a squirrel. Such a mundane way for the hero of the Wizarding World to die... so normal...
He shuddered at the thought, never liking that word. His abusive relatives obsession with it, had killed any desire for such a lifestyle.
Looking around, he spotted the same phantom of Dumbledore... only this time, he knew better.
Harry frowned at the old bat. "You're not Dumbledore," the boy stated, standing up from his spot on the floor.
The-old-sage-impostor raised an eyebrow, "Am I not, how strange." His eyes certainly twinkled like Dumbledore's... but something about the man felt... comforting. Comforting in a true way, not like Dumbledore's manipulations.
Looking around, this whole place felt comforting... like he was returning home.
Bringing his eyes to the fake Dumbledore. Harry spoke the theory he'd been building since he met her. "You're Death," he acknowledged more then asked.
"Aren't you a quick one," Death smiled kindly. "It usually takes the third or fourth time meeting me, before my Avatars make that connection."
"I had help," Thinking of Ollivander. Harry sighed, "Sorry I wasn't much of a champion." Well not aware, it wasn't exactly true. He had been a fine champion. Fighting the good fight, as a freelance problem fixer.
Regardless, Death continued to smile. "You still can be, if that's what you desire."
"Like in some undead army, you mean?" Harry frowned. "I've been a Soldier for far too long, from far too young, to want to continue."
Death shook her head. Something told him, despite being in the form of Dumbledore, she was actually a her.
"Nothing so cliche," Death full out laughed at his expression. Although it was a short lived laugh, it made Harry feel warm. Like spending time with his-
A thought just occurred to him, "What about my wife?"
"If you're so concerned," smiled Death. "You can always go back to them."
Harry gaped, "You mean, I can just go back to my body, good as new?"
"Being my Muse comes with certain benefits," Death shrugged.
Harry frowned. "I... haven't really been aging..." he acknowledged. He still looked 17. Ever since the first time he discarded the Hallows.
"One of the perks is getting to choose when you enter my domain." Death smiled.
Harry continued to frown, "So I can just... go home. No harm, no foul... and no permanent injury or coma."
Death just gave a single firm nod. That's when Harry realized, he was no longer talking to Dumbledore. When did THAT happen?
Standing in front of him was a tall woman, dressed in green and black armor. With flowing strips of cloth on her back, like a cape. Along with a greenish black cowl, decorated in several metal antlers.
"I... don't think I'm ready to come with you," Harry acknowledged.
Death just smiled, "Unfortunate, but I will be here when you're ready."
Harry gave a hesitant nod, "But before I go... I have some questions."
Death shrugged, "Ask away."
Harry suddenly forgot all his questions. Shaking his head, he forced himself to ask something. "What's your name?" then blushed... for some reason.
However, that seemed to be the right question. Death's face brightened happily. "Hela Lokidottir," She informed.
Harry hesitantly nodded, "I'm Harry Potter."
Her smile grew even more pleased, "I'm aware."
Harry squirmed. "Why Me? Why did you choose me?"
Hela shrugged, "I don't cause death, rather I fulfill a role in the cosmos. Otherwise, the mortal lands would get overwhelmed by the dead.
"You aren't the only champion I've called to help me with this. I have others, scattered across the multiverse. But what sets each of you apart from the masses, is your lack of fear, of me. You don't want to die, but nor are you scared when your time comes. You are given the option to wield the power of gods, and reject it. And lastly, you see a glimpse into my afterlife... and it does not drive you mad.
"You proved you could not only handle the role as my champion, but that you would never think to abuse that privilege."
Harry's frown now felt permanent. That was basically confirming what Ollivander said.
"Why don't I volunteer some information," Hela smiled at her muse. The boy was too nervous to think straight. Not out of fear, but rather it came from awkwardness.
"I am a god of death. Or rather a 'Shinigami'. I was born as a Sapient dimension, although there are other types of those. I grow more powerful through the more souls I collect. Usually, the souls that don't come with me, get reincarnated, or become ghost. Depending on how attached they are to their past life.
"As Shinigami are rare. We tend to hold jurisdiction over several thousand universes, and their pocket dimensions.
"I have quite the collection of Reapers working for me. Think of them as Cosmic House Elves. Creatures that feed off my magic, through a Psychic link, in exchange for gathering souls to me. The more souls I gain, the more Reapers I can support.
"That's what you will do, after you choose to come to me. Not all the time, obviously. Just think of it as your 9 to 5 job, in the afterlife. In between 'working hours' you can enjoy my various heavens, where time has no meaning."
Harry blinked. He supposed having a job, in death, wouldn't be that bad... he couldn't imagine lazing about, doing nothing all day... still, "So this 'Master of Death' thing doesn't really kick in until I die?"
"Not exactly," Hela shrugged. "Until then, you will be acting as my will in the mortal verse. Stopping the occasional apocalypse, but mostly vanquishing the more dangerous undead, such as Tom Riddle."
Harry waved off, "I do that anyway."
"I'm aware," Hela smiled. "Most of my Avatars don't start hunting liches, until after this conversation."
Harry shrugged.
"Or they get overzealous, and kill any form of undead they come across." Hela frowned. "Then are shocked when I tell them I don't approve. Some people achieve immortality, through my will. As they are other types of champions. Not quite muses, but they fall within my domain. I only want you lot to destroy evil undead. Which I'm pleased you seem to understand the difference, without needing to be told."
Harry shifted uncomfortably, "I've met a few Vampires, ghost, and even ghouls. Not even most of them are evil."
"To which I'm eternally thankful you realize that."
A/N:
This first chapter is a tweaked version of my fic "If Wishes Were Portals" found on FiM Fiction. But don't worry, I don't plan to add any ponies. This is largely an Anime Xover. Although I will be using monsters from various other media.