It had been one month since their lunch together where both Harry and Skips had both discussed their past. At first there was an uneasy acceptance of their relationship with Death and their immortality, but as time continued their friendship grew. For Harry, it had been so ling since he could converse with another and not worry about growing attached with the inevitability of their death looming over the conversations. For Skips, Harry provided an ease of companionship. Skips didn't feel the need to always be taking, he could just be himself. Which was nice when everyone else at the park, mostly just Mordecai and Rigby, wouldn't let him practice his meditation and spiritual practices.

As time past, their feelings towards each other grew from a physical attraction to a more emotional spiritual one. Unfortunately so did their reluctance to share this information with the other, unwilling to give up the friendship that had formed.

With all of that having occurred, it brings us to today, the championship round of the local bowling tournament. Harry had already forgone being a part of the team, he might have lived through centuries of life and countless universes but that doesn't mean the man can bowl, and with Skips now refusing to play it didn't look good for The Park. Still even knowing the team's chances of winning were next to nothing, Harry still went to encourage the team. He had debated faking another Felix Felicis incident, but it had been so many years since his thoughts turned to Ron and Hermione and the pain of their shared history stopped Harry. Plus if he's learned anything, a little failure never hurt anyone. At least that was the thought before he tuned into the conversation going on around him.

"You bet our souls for a ball!" Mordecai yelled at Rigby. Mordecai then precedes to punch Rigby. Decidedly so, in Harry's opinion.

While the sale of Harry's soul was questionable at best, the other members of his party could defiantly be in trouble from this. "Rigby," Harry interrupted as Rigby was in the middle of complaining to Mordecai. "Who in particle did you make this deal with? Maybe I can talk to them." Harry offered.

It seemed to be the worst case however, when Rigby pointed over to Death. 'Bloody hell,' Harry thought. Harry nodded to the others in acknowledgment before taking a breath to ready himself. This wouldn't be a fun conversation in the slightest, but someone had to have it. There were two approaches here: a second deal, one without souls on the line, and the much risky option of trying to get Death to back out. 'Here goes nothing," Harry thought walking over.

Death was standing near, what appeared to be a hovering giant babies, a very old wizard, that reminded Harry of the late Dumbledore, and an older man with a blonde mullet. They were clearly on a team together, based on the matching bowling jerseys. They were huddled and seemed to be discussing how to win the match, which wasn't a good sign for Harry's efforts.

"Death," Harry stated pleasantly, "I was hoping to talk with you in private, is that okay?"

There was an abrupt halt to the conversation that the Magical Elements were having. Three faces turn to Harry, clearly in disbelief over how casually Harry addressed Death. Something very few had the pleasure of getting away with. Death nodded and moved to walk away from the group, only to be stopped by the blonde with a mullet.

"And who are you, coming over here and pulling him away. Anything you say to Death can be said to all of us" The man tried to say convincingly. Harry knew it wasn't going to work. He didn't know how long Death existed to this world, but Harry would place a bet on his soul that he knew Death better. It was almost laughable. Emphasis on almost.

Harry just turned and started to walk away, towards the only private area in the whole bowling alley. The bathrooms. Once a. Safe distance away from others Harry turned back to look at Death. There was a moment of them just looking at each other before Death raised one eyebrow at Harry, clearly asking him what this was about.

"Are you really going to take they souls if they loose a bowling match?" The disbelief was clear in Harry's tone. This Death was clearly slightly different from what Harry was used to, which was a mostly a hands off approach.

"Well I wasn't the one who accepted the bet." Was the response Harry received. Clearly option two was out of the question.

"What can I exchange instead of their souls?" It was better to get to the point with supernatural beings has always been Harry's experience. And the strategy has almost never failed him. From the look on Death's face though, this seems to be one of those cases.

Death's face had into a sheepish expression. He opened his mouth, before closing it again. A classic sign that Harry wasn't going to like the explanation. Harry could see Death coming to a decision before opening his mouth once again "Fate."

'Crap.' Was the only thought in Harry's head. Death was right to have been apprehensive, Fate was always tricky to deal with. "Anything to do with why I'm here?" It was the only possible explanation that would account for this ridicules bet and Harry's placement in the new world. The nod from Death was all the answer Harry needed. "Can I at least get a little more information on what 'training Pops' even means?" In for a penny, in for a pound Harry figured.

Again he only received a grimace, it seemed Fate was a particularly bitchy force in this universe. Harry started to run through the worst case scenarios of why he was chosen for this, and the consequences if he doesn't do his job properly. Looking over to where Pops was standing, Harry can see his work is cut out for him. He looked over at Death with a sympathetic smile and a shake of his head. It looked like the competition was about to start and Harry and Death both needed to get back to their respective groups.

—.—.—

The rest of the match Harry spent in his own head trying to figure out the best way to help Pops, only breaking out of his thoughts during some of the more outrageous magic used. And one occasion where Skips had to bend down to pick something up and Harry received a very nice view of the mans backside that would be fueling many nights ahead.

Harry heard cheering and looked up, it seems the The Park ended up winning after all. And it looked like the group seemed to be bonding over something that Death said, probably all according to Fate's plan. If Fate wasn't such a pain, Harry might have laughed. Instead he just shook his head and tried to collect his thoughts. Which boiled down starting Pops off with physical training while considering if he's fit for magical training.

"Ummm, hey Harry." Looking up Harry saw Skips in front of him. His voice was slightly more gravelly than usual, clearly roughed up from him celebrating with the rest of The Park employees. "I was wondering if you wanted to stop by my house and celebrate later. With the rest of the team of course."

There was a slight puff of his chest, clearly he was proud of the win, and the shy smile on his face was so genuine that it slightly startled Harry. The attractiveness of the man often took Harry by surprise. His beard made Harry envious, having never been able to grow his own, and yet it endeared Harry to the man so much more. It took another second for Harry to remember that he had yet to answer the Skips. Coughing to clear his voice, Harry replied "sure, sounds great. I'll see you there"

At this point Harry got up and started to walk over to where the rest of the group was. Harry glanced back at Skips quickly, and just sighed at how good the man looked. He really needed to clear his head and focus on the task. For now he could just celebrate with the others, starting tomorrow though the real work with Pops needed to begin.