A/N: I don't own Harry Potter
Word Count: 473
Warning: character almost dying
Death was tired today. He'd claimed so many souls, so many innocent people who should have not been here at his door. When the first ones appeared, he'd been pitchkettled as to why. That soon changed as the war raged on and more and more souls appeared at his door. He had finally left to go straight to the source. The castle stood tall, despite the fire and smoke billowing from the towers.
He walked inside, unnoticed. How many people every notice Death walking amongst them? He wondered why mortals had to do this, had to destroy themselves in such numbers. With a sigh, he started collecting souls.
He reached one young man, a strapping boy of only seventeen with crimson hair and a pale freckled face. His skin was flawless and it took Death a moment to realize he was bleeding internally. The young man probably didn't even realize he was dying. Another man stood over him, begging for him to wake.
"Please, please, I'll do anything!" he yelled. Death paused looking at the older man. He was also solidly built, with a leather vest covering dragon skin clothing. He knew who he was, Charlie Weasley, making the young man he was about to claim the younger brother, Ronald.
"Anything?" Death asked, allowing his voice to enter Charlie's thoughts. He found it always spooked people when he did this, but without an actual corporal body, it was one of his only means of communication.
"He's my brother, please, take me!" Charlie begged. Death thought about it, it seemed rude to deny such a request.
"And why should I do that?" he finally asked. "What makes you more interesting than the soul before me?"
"I'm older, I'm stronger. I've got more life experiences. Ron's just a kid! I know sometimes he's a bit annoying, but he's still my brohter and it'll break our mum's heart losing him!"
"Loyalty is lovely, Mr. Weasley, but would your death also not do the same?" Death asked.
"Ron's special!" Charlie howled. Death thought about this for a moment. He was quite tired already to day, but it was his job and if he didn't collect... well, he wasn't sure what would happen then. Although, manner of death was always something that could be altered. The younger Mister Weasley was dying from blood loss at the moment. Death could change that, make him die of something else, something logical in the situation.
"Very well, Mister Weasley, I shall spare you little brother in exchange for your own soul is forfeit, please pick your manner of death," Death stated, watching as confusion filled Charlie's face.
"Old age?"
"That sounds wonderful. I already have hundreds of souls to process today and I shall be happy to claim yours at a time with less paperwork," Death agreed, disappearing as Ron started breathing again.