Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling and Neil Gaiman, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books and DC Comics, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
A/N: First off, thanks for opening up this story, it means a great deal to me when people read it. This story has been stewing around in brain for awhile, because as a fan of both Harry Potter and Sandman, I wished for a way to cross them over. When I found one, I was astounded. So, I hope I did Neil some justice, this is the first fanfic I've ever written off of his stuff. So here goes nothing.
This story is dedicated to Seth, James (Dream, my little brother), and Kristin, who shares my Delirium and is the best beta in my life
A Prologue
Dumbledore stood by the wall of the balcony, watching his body fall to the floor. His soul had already been removed from his former body, and now, a surreal form of himself watched the scene unfold in silencing, the way one would watch a Muggle motion picture. This wasn't one he particularly enjoyed, but it had to take place nonetheless.
A woman stood with him. A woman that looked out of place in Hogwarts Castle.
She had pale white skin, that, when his with the right light, could make her look transparent. She was pole thin, but her black clothes fit on her frame perfectly, never allowing a thought of her health cross a mind. She wore strapping boots, which encased her legs, disappearing into her sleek black pants, adorned by her simple black belt. Her shirt was thin strapped, scandalous for the school's halls, and her eyes were not only well decorated, but warm and inviting, if you could find them under her wild black hair. But the thing about her that could catch attention first was the large silver ankh that was hanging loosely on a simple string around her neck. It was the symbol of life, her sigil, for she is Death.
And she was here for Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.
He did not question her. He knew who she was and why she was there. He turned to her, and matched her warm smile with one of his own.
"We meet again, m'lady," he said politely, for Dumbledore was one of the few that had survived the presence of Death in his lifetime.
"Hey there, Albus," she said in return, a weathered English accent adorning her words.
They stood for a moment, watching the scene unfold, for time passes differently in the realm of Death, and she knew it was his wish to be sure of Harry's actions.
Finally, Dumbledore had finished his observance, and strode to Harry side, staring down at the face of a young adult. It was his last goodbye to the wizard.
He felt a tug on his hand and he turned to Death, confident of Harry's future.
"It's time to go," Death said, and he offered her his arm.
And together they left the mortal world.
--- --- --- --- --- ---
Dumbledore stood alone in Death's house. As soon as she had gotten in, she had to rush out to gather another soul, and he agreed to stay put for her before he left for his next destination.
He was very out of place in her small, unadorned house. His deep purple robes stood out against the white washed walls, and simple furnishings. A worn out green chair sat in the corner, and on it sat a stuffed bear, looking close to retirement. A picture of misfits was framed and hanging on the wall, Death herself sitting in the middle of them all. Otherwise the room seemed empty and plain. Only two things really caught his eyes. One was a darkened hallway, where seven frames hung on the wall, six were paintings and one was a mirror.
The other was the other two tenants, the small girl's goldfish, whom she had introduced as Slim and Wadsworth.
He had spent less than a minute alone with the fish before he knew that Death had returned. There was no sound announcing her arrival, since there were no exiting doors to the house, but somehow Dumbledore knew that she had come back.
She strode into the room, slightly out of breath, and greeted him with the warm smile that had made many dead men weak in the knees.
"Nothing like a
small town disaster to keep you in shape," she said, and before
Dumbledore could inquire as to her meaning, there was a loud
demanding voice coming from the mysterious hallway.
"My sister,
I stand in my gallery, and I hold you sigil. Will you speak with me?"
the voice commanded, seeming to come out of the portrait of an
extravagant helmet, like a wireless player.
Death hurried over to the portrait, and removed the helmet from the frame, setting it on the floor, before leaning inside the frame.
A moment later, a moment Dumbledore had spent conversing with the fish, Death retreated from the frame and walked over to the wizard, slightly flustered.
"C'mon, it seems I've made a mistake."
"I would believe so," Dumbledore responded kindly, and they both stepped into the frame, leaving the realm of Death, and entering the heart of the Dreaming.
--- --- --- --- --- ---
They emerged through the picture frame, something that Dumbledore had never experienced in all of his years as a wizard, and he found it rather exhilarating, and straightened to find themselves in the presence of a tall man.
He was a tower of a man, as thin and pale as Dumbledore's female companion. He was dressed in heavy black fabric, a cape of sorts hanging over his fancy clothing, layers of fabric folding on each other, creating a foreboding sea of black. His hair was also as untamed as the girl's, but instead of intricate designs curling around his eyes, there were just pools of black, twinkling like stars.
"Hello sister," he said in a dark and deep voice, which could give a grown man the chills.
"Hey there Dream," she responded. "Wanna explain to me what we are doing here? I am relatively busy, you know."
Dream let out a heavy, frustrated sigh. "Then you have forgotten?"
A pause. "Forgotten what, little brother?"
The two broke into a childlike banter, from which Dumbledore was distracted. He gazed, instead at the elegance of the room in which they were standing.
The room was painted in an elegant dark orange colour, and the frames that hung on the wall were similar to what he had briefly seen in Death's house. Seven frames, each containing what seemed to be a different symbol. The first held an old beat up book, strung closed by the chains encompassing it. The frame next to it held a gleaming silver ankh, larger than the one that Death herself was wearing. Then there was a mirror, a black sheet rustling in its confines, a half broken silver heart, a small ring with a morbid hook extending from the top of its loop, and a frame holding nothing but an untamable whirlwind of colour. For some reason these frames gave Dumbledore a sense of comfort at the same time that they made him more uneasy than he had ever felt in his life.
The rest of the room was decorated regularly. There was an old fashioned couch to his right, and a well crafted side table next to it. Drapery was hanging precariously from the ceiling and it bordered the entire room, but disappeared as the room gave way into a hallway, which led the eye to a bright light in the distance. Dumbledore wondered what was in that room that was giving off such a light.
Finally their bickering stopped abruptly, and the woman turned to the elder wizard before turning back to her brother.
"Oh, Dream, is that him?" Death asked.
Dream ran a hand across his snow white forehead and said, "Yes my sister, and you almost let him go. You know how much I owe him, and I must honour that debt."
"So sorry, Dream, I've just been so…well...rushed. Look, I have to go, should I leave him with you then?"
"Yes, dear sister, thank you for you cooperation."
She bid the two a quick goodbye, and then disappeared once again into the portrait of an ankh.
Dream turned finally to Dumbledore and spoke gravely. "Hello Albus, welcome to the Dreaming."
Dumbledore gave him a
wide smile and returned, "Hello Dream, I take it that it is
time?"
Dream gave him a nod and the two walked together,
further into the Dreams.
A/N: There's the beginning then. Just a sweet little greeting into the world. Thanks again for reading it, and if you ever want to drop me a line, my webpage is
