Author's Note:

Thanks for the encouraging reviews. I have been able to write a lot recently and have several updates planned to The Dark Lord's Equal and Hogwarts: A History of Meddling as well.

This is my first time introducing my own character, but I really, really like him and I hope you do as well.

Here is my disclaimer that says I do not own anything Harry Potter related. Everything belongs to JK Rowling, except in universe 47837. Probably.

The moment Harry crossed through the threshold of the Veil everything changed. One minute he had been the Harry Potter that he had always known, someone who had put up with far more crap than he should have, and the next his body was changed into something that he almost didn't recognize.

It started with his skin; more specifically, it began with every part of his body that was covered by his Invisibility Cloak. What felt like ice quickly worked its way inwards and before Harry could process anything else his entire body felt like it had been chilled almost to the point of freezing. Harry tried to look down to see what was happening but he found that he couldn't see anything at all.

No matter where he looked there was just darkness, and so he decided to rely on his sense of touch instead. His feet quickly discovered that he was floating while his hands explored the parts of his body that he could reach.

He was quite surprised to learn that he was naked.

Little did Harry know that all of this was completely normal. Well, not entirely normal since the vast majority of those that went through the Veil ended up shedding their physical body and dying in the conventional sense of the word. But normal enough for those few who possessed one of Death's Hallows.

Those legendary items had been created by Death and were made out of the same primordial substance that he was. Harry's cloak was one of several objects in existence and since it belonged completely and exclusively to Harry, the magic that resided within it was something that Harry could rightfully claim if he were worthy.

So it was only natural that a part of Death's power had thus entered into Harry's body to merge with the boy's own. The ancient and preternatural essence had started out cold in Harry's blood but as time went on it joined with everything that Harry was.

Soon, Harry began to feel like the ice was melting and in some sense it was; except that instead of the substance warming, Harry's perception of temperature had been altered. His body had been irrevocably changed by the small addition of Death's power so as to be capable of existing in both the world of the living and the dead.

It was a hallmark of those chosen by Death, and it came with the added benefit of making Harry truly and effectively immortal. It didn't matter that it was a mere fraction of the sheer might of Death; even a small portion of infinity was still infinite in nature.

Harry's body continued to go through these and other modifications as he drifted aimlessly within the dark expanse.

His breathing continued out of habit but he would soon come to realize that his body no longer required oxygen – not that any even existed on this side of the great divide.

A few minutes later and Harry's transformation was nearly complete. All that was left was a single addition, and it started in Harry's shoulder blades.

The sharp and sudden pain was enough to force him to arch his entire body backwards. It felt like his bones were breaking outward through his skin and Harry stifled a scream by biting down hard. Fortunately, the searing sensation didn't last for long and then it was over just as suddenly as it had started. He was changed now, forever.

It took him several useless breaths to focus himself. In the past hour he had gone from a nearly uncontained rage to a blissful euphoria where his magic had made him feel invincible. From there he had walked through the Veil and had gone on to confusion and then wonder and then pain.

But now he felt perfect. Better than perfect, in fact. Everything about him felt different and better and stronger.

His muscles felt like they contained this strength that was just brimming under the surface, ready to be used at a moment's notice. Perhaps best of all though was how his mind felt. For what felt like the first time since he could remember it was clear and there was no pain coming from his scar. In fact, his mind seemed like it was able to process things at a pace that had eluded him in the past.

It was cataloguing what was happening to him even now as the blackness gave way to light and the outlines of a familiar place slowly began to appear. With each second that passed more and more detail was added and Harry then became quite sure that he was standing on a platform at King's Cross Station. Only, there were no trains and there were no people. There was nothing, in fact, save for a single bench that became more apparent to him as light continued to flood the space.

The sudden influx of brightness caused him to squint his eyes and out of instinct he raised a hand to further shield them from the light. However, as his vision continued to adjust he realized that he was no longer wearing any glasses, and the more surprising thing was that it didn't seem to matter.

In truth, his vision was quite perfect now, and it confirmed that he was indeed quite naked. The other thing that he noticed while standing there was that he had wings and he now understood what the pain had been from.

Huge, black wings with hints of green could be seen out of his peripheral vision and it caused him to do a double take. They were massive and as he slowly explored them, both with his sight and experimenting with new muscles that moved them back and forth, an even bigger smile spread across his face.

They were beautiful and a part of him felt like he always should have had them because he just knew how to use them. His mind even made the connection that perhaps this was the reason why he was so good on a broom. He had always been made for flight and his wings seemed as natural an extension of himself as any other body part that had been with him since birth.

Though, Harry didn't have as long as he would have liked to investigate his newfound appendages because, just then, he heard a soft thumping that grew steadily louder. Harry's eyes searched for the source of whatever it was that sounded like it was flailing about.

The louder the noise became the more uncomfortable it made him. At the same time he was also beginning to feel the strangest sensation of familiarity.

There weren't many places for whatever it was to hide and so Harry cautiously approached the bench, which had an uncharacteristic shadow lurking beneath it.

Harry got to his knees to get a better look, instinctually able to balance out the new weight distribution from his wings. Upon peering underneath, he saw something that looked nearly identical to the child-like form of Lord Voldemort from that night in the graveyard just before the man had assumed a new body.

It looked just as pitiful now and he was torn with both wanting to comfort its wailing and to lock it behind closed doors and throw away the key.

He was just about to question what a little and nearly empty hourglass was doing hovering over its head when Harry realized that someone else was on the platform with him.

"Just ignore that; you cannot help it anyways."

Harry's head whipped around as he stood, and he was greeted by a smiling and mysterious figure.

From the man's perfectly styled and golden brown hair to his well-defined and strong jaw line to the way his clothes expertly framed his body and left little to the imagination, Harry didn't think he had ever seen something more perfect. In fact Harry was sure that this was the one male that all men had been molded imperfectly from.

The man's eyes seemed to know what Harry was thinking about. Or it could have been because Harry's mouth was wide open.

"Careful, Mr. Potter, you're going to make me blush," the man smirked, his smile growing even more enigmatic.

"Wha…uhm… uhh," Harry struggled for a minute.

A spark swirled within the man's grey eyes as Harry watched the man look him up and down.

"You're not so bad yourself," the man winked playfully.

His voice was rich, almost seductive even.

It was then that Harry realized that he still wasn't wearing any clothes and his cheeks immediately took on a red tint. He tried to cover himself up with his hands, but he couldn't entirely hide the evidence of either his growing arousal or embarrassment.

This man was attractive and Harry couldn't hide his body's response to it.

Sure, Harry had realized he was gay after that disastrous last-ditch attempt at heterosexuality with Cho Chang but he felt like his mind could hardly string two words together in the presence of this man.

Fortunately, the Adonis staring him down didn't make him suffer that much longer and with a snap of his fingers Harry suddenly found himself in a comfortable robe that fit nicely and even allowed his wings to protrude through the fabric.

The blush on Harry's face was still there, however, when the man next spoke.

"Allow me to introduce myself," the stranger responded to the question that Harry was too preoccupied with other things to even ask.

"I am Mikhail, and welcome to the In-Between."

Mikhail smiled and began to walk towards Harry, stopping at about arm's length.

"I am here to give you a tour so-to-speak and to answer any immediate questions that you may have."

The man's eyes were full of mirth and Harry got the sense that Mikhail had very much enjoyed seeing him fully nude.

"Okay," Harry managed despite the man's closeness.

He really was quite beautiful and it had come as such a welcomed shock that his mind was only now just catching up.

The man's grey eyes continued to stare at him expectantly for the several seconds it took Harry to get a hold of his thoughts and think of the questions that he wanted to ask.

"I'm Harry Potter," he brilliantly started with.

The man smiled and nodded; he was trying his best not to have too much fun with this. Though, it wasn't that difficult when he could remember being in Harry's position not that long ago.

Of course, he had not shared in the mutual attraction to the pretty blond girl who had greeted him his first time to the In-Between.

"I knew that already," teased Mikhail.

Harry mumbled something about pleasantries before starting his questions in earnest.

"So, what is this place? The 'In-Between' you said?' What does it have to do with the Veil that I walked through to get here?"

Harry did have a lot of questions but he had enough mental awareness to know that he wanted to pace himself.

"The In-Between is a place that is halfway between the world of the living, where you came from, and the dead, where all souls go to when they die. The In-Between, as we call it, is like a purgatory of sorts where things are not quite dead and not quite alive. The Veil is an instant doorway to death for many people, but for the rare few," and at this Mikhail looked at Harry pointedly, "it is how we go back and forth between the realms."

Harry digested that quickly.

"So, I'm not dead then and my magic was right in telling me to come here?"

"Yes," Mikhail nodded.

"You possessed one of Death's Hallows and, after finding you worthy, it bestowed upon you the rare honor of being directed here in which you were given a small fraction of Death's power that has now transformed you into one of his Angels."

It took Harry a little longer to wrap his mind around that.

"Which is what I am as well," Mikhail further clarified and then demonstrated with the sudden appearance of his own set of wings.

They too were as black as night but whereas the tips of Harry's feathers matched the color of his green eyes, Mikhail's wings had tints of a silvery grey. The man was somehow even more beautiful and quite a sight to behold.

Now though Harry had even more questions and to be quite honest he didn't know exactly where to start.

"Death's Hallows?" Harry thought it easiest to begin there.

"Death has a very complicated job – and he will explain it to you all himself of course – but the simple answer is that he can't really affect the world of the living directly. Therefore, he has the occasional need for individuals who can operate as his agents without breaking any of the rules. In fact, it's something that is encouraged by both sides from time to time to keep the cosmic balance as even as possible."

Mikhail gave Harry a minute to process what he was saying. As someone who had been in Harry's position he remembered that feeling of asking a single question only to discover that the answer brought at least two more questions.

"Hallows are items of great magical power," Mikhail then explained. "They are created by Death and handed directly to men and women in situations that almost always become the stuff of legend. There is only a handful in existence at any one time and they frequently change hands because of the awesome powers they grant and the envy they inspire. However, the Hallows themselves represent a sort of test to see who among the various owners would wield them in a manner approved by Death. Fewer still are the ones who would subconsciously accept what Death would offer them and find themselves where you now stand."

Again, Mikhail looked at Harry expectantly before opening up a book that Harry hadn't known the man had been holding.

"Your Hallow," Mikhail read, "was the Invisibility Cloak."

Harry's improved mental capacities had already connected that on account of what had transpired in his bedroom but his eyes widened more in response to being told that Death had chosen him and that deep down some part of him had agreed.

"My magic wanted this…" Harry confirmed what a small part of him already knew.

His response had been directed more to himself than as a question to Mikhail but the other man answered anyways.

"Yes, and it says here that the cloak passed through your family from the person who had originally received it from Death, one Ignotus Peverell."

The name meant nothing to Harry.

"Like I said earlier, Hallows frequently become the stuff of legends and yours is no exception. I believe its story was told in The Tales of," Mikhail paused to check his guess in the book, "I was right… The Tale of Beedle the Bard."

Harry filed that little tidbit away for later.

"Anyways," Mikahil continued to read through the page he was on, "the cloak passed down through Ignotus' line until a daughter married into the Potters and ultimately to you."

"And not one of them was worthy?" Harry was a bit shocked. What had he done – or not done – that had made Death choose him? More importantly, what had he been chosen for?

'One thing at a time,' Harry told himself.

"Perhaps one or two might have been," Mikhail confirmed in his ledger, "however, none of them were in the position that you were in to really contemplate that lifestyle, and so their magic never agreed to it."

"So why did I make the cut and what did I make the cut for?"

Nearly everyone asked that questioned and Mikhail gave the standard response while again reading more about Harry in Death's ledger.

"Well, I'm not sure I have the exact answer to the first question, but you can always ask Death when you see him though. Hmm, wait a minute," Mikhail paused as he continued reading something that had caught his eye in his special book.

"Wow, you have been through an impressive amount of shit."

Then Mikhail turned the page, and then another one, and then another one.

At this point Mikhail looked up from the book and into Harry's emerald eyes. Aside from his instant attraction to the way the boy in front of him looked, Mikhail was drawn in by just how similar Harry was to him. It wasn't even because of the questions the boy asked because everyone asked those; it was because of the similarities in their human life, of which Mikhail hadn't even suffered through half of what Harry had and still retained some semblance of the appropriate ethics and morals required for this job.

Harry was obviously someone very special and so Mikhail decided on a slightly softer approach than he had taken with the last recruit.

"I asked very similar questions, Harry, when I first got here. I was finished with taking a passive approach to my fate and resolved to do things differently, and that was when the Hallow that I unknowingly carried saw that I was ready for a change. I would wager that it was a similar experience for you, and between you and me that is rather impressive given what you've gone through even though I don't know how horrible it must have been. I've seen a lot of people go to the extremes in those situations and you must have stayed remarkably true to the person you were born as or you wouldn't be here. Death needs people like you on the front lines to not abuse the power he has given them."

"Not everything was painful, there are some truly great memories that I carry with me," Harry said softly remembering in that moment the best of his experiences.

"All the more reason then for you to be here now if you were able to hold onto those moments and treasure them."

Mikhail had an understanding look in his eyes.

It was Harry's turn to look at Mikhail expectantly now.

"I don't think I have time to read through all of your life's history right now, but I assume that something recently just happened that finally tipped the balance where you swore vengeance on someone?"

Harry began to nod.

"Except, it wasn't just wanting to make others suffer and hurt for the sheer joy of it, there was a sense of justice behind it, a sense of righteous retribution. One that has a limit and wouldn't have turned into violence just for the sake of violence, more like an eye for an eye. How am I doing so far?"

Harry nodded again with a slightly confused look on his face. For someone who had he had just supposedly met, Mikhail sure knew an awful lot about how he thought.

"Like I said, that is exactly the sort of thing that Death requires from time to time. Some people do very bad things and need to pay for the price for it, like that thing for instance."

Mikhail pointed to the bench and to the sickly child-like troll that poked its head out every so often to softly wail and hiss at the light.

"Do you know anything about that?" Mikhail asked.

Harry shook his head.

"That is, or rather was a part of Voldemort's soul," he explained with a distinctively sour expression on his face. "It was hiding in your scar and was severed from your body when you came through the Veil."

Harry's eyes widened in shock. His brain, meanwhile, worked at a ferocious pace to confirm what Mikhail had said by the overwhelming supporting information it found: the pain when Voldemort had been near; the visions; being told by Dumbledore that Voldemort had literally transferred a bit of his powers into him when he had woken up in the hospital following the events in the Chamber of Secrets; everything.

Plus, the longer Harry looked at the sickly fragment of Voldemort's soul the harder it was to think of it as anything other than the truth. It was like he just knew it was true.

"How…?" Harry was at a loss for words while Mikhail checked something in his book.

"The man had mutilated his soul so many times in creating Horcruxes that it was unstable when the Killing Curse rebounded onto him and broke the soul that remained in his body into two parts, and one part lingered around until it latched onto you."

Mikhail looked at Harry like he was rather annoyed by the mere existence of Horcruxes.

"Horcruxes," Mikhail continued in that disapproving tone, "are vile ways that some wizards attempt in the hopes of immortality. They are formed when someone splits their soul through the unnatural act of killing someone and then that witch or wizard protects that part of their soul in another object that then binds the soul in their body to the world of the living. Thus, should something happen to his or her body, as long as their protected soul is okay, they don't die. It doesn't really work out for them in the long term, though, because Death has a huge pet peeve on anyone that attempts to cheat him for obvious reasons."

"So that's why Voldemort didn't die that night," said Harry as if he finally understood something he had been struggling to figure out for a long time.

"And more likely than not as to why you are here then," Mikhail pointed out.

He continued when Harry looked at him questioningly.

"Death would probably like you to deal with the man, and from what I've read it's possible there are a few more people as well whose actions could have created other unfavorable consequences."

"Deal with it? What sort of unfavorable consequences?" It was all becoming a bit much for him to take in all at once and he was a little exasperated.

"Which brings me to why you are here, specifically. Like me, you are now an Angel of Death, and will act in a manner that maintains the balance between the living and the dead. It's probably safe to say that this Voldemort person, and at least his Horcruxes, needs to be rendered mortal again if not destroyed entirely. As to some of the other people you might be expected to deal with, let's just say that certain people – Albus Dumbledore, for instance – have behaved in a manner that most likely has affected or will have an effect on the deaths of a great number of people. That is never good since it puts a great strain on Death's resources and throws the cosmic balance out of order. Death can explain it much better than I can."

This was always the hardest part in Mikhail's opinion.

"How do I do that, exactly?"

"We should probably start with some of the powers that Death has given you, and if it's okay with you I would prefer if Death explained the rest."

Harry nodded as if to say okay while taking a minute to breath in the useless and nonexistent oxygen to calm himself.

When he was finished he opened his eyes and found that Mikhail had a stupid grin on his face.

"I should probably start with the fact that your body is not alive in the normal sense anymore, and breathing – while I can understand it is mostly out of habit – is no longer required."

Harry just blinked his eyes in response to that and for the next several minutes focused on the incredibly weird sensation of not inhaling and finding that he truly didn't need the oxygen. It felt very disconcerting.

"And I should probably mention that you are effectively immortal as well, having a small part of Death in you and whatnot. I mean, Death could still decide in the future that you have abused your position and withdraw his essence but for right now nothing can kill you."

That was somehow easier to process than the not requiring oxygen part.

"Wings obviously will help you to get around and you can choose to become truly invisible whenever you want. What else?" Mikhail mused while tapping his finger on chin.

"Right, you also have the ability to shadow travel – which I will teach you of course – and you will find a certain and immediate understanding of some of the darker aspects of magic that relate to both death and to the soul that will slowly be deposited into your mind as you go forward. Can't be an Angel of Death without knowing the material, you know?"

Harry just nodded at Mikhail with his mouth half open. It was literally one thing after another.

"Finally, you obviously still have the capacity for magic but you no longer really need a wand to do that. We can work on that too before you go back to Hogwarts to finish the part of your life as Harry Potter before moving onto other jobs that Death may have."

"How are you doing with all of this?" Mikhail asked and extended his arm to rest on Harry's shoulder.

The contact felt heavenly and Harry appreciated the physical support as he wrapped his brain around what he had just been told.

"I think I'll be all right just as long as you are finished."

Mikhail's face gave it away that he wasn't and Harry just sighed for him to continue.

"Of course, you should note that there are rules, and Death will be the one to explain these, because he really, really doesn't like it when they are broken. I can tell you though that these rules are important and constricting and will severely limit how you can impact the mortal world. It wouldn't be fair for us to be able to affect it like gods; Life isn't exactly happy that we have this much say in her domain but even She understands the importance of what we do from time to time."

Mikhail moved closer to Harry and put his other hand on his other shoulder.

"I know this will take a little time to process – you should have seen my face when I first came here!"

Harry looked into Mikhail's welcoming grey eyes; he appreciated the other man's support and felt slightly self-conscious that his cheeks flushed again because of how closely they were standing to each other.

After learning everything that he had his mind now needed a break and despite his new gifts Harry was powerless to fight against his growing arousal in this situation. He just had the strongest desire to kiss the other boy to relieve some of the tension from the important way his future had just changed.

Mikhail just smiled at Harry – like some part of him knew what Harry was thinking, and it made Harry's face even redder.

"Come," Mikhail said with some effort as if he too had been contemplating something similar.

"Let me properly initiate you to Death's domain and introduce you to him. Then we can return to the world of the living and I'll teach you all I know."

That seemed as good of a plan as any to Harry's mind.

"Okay," said Harry softly.

"Let's go meet Death."

"I think he's really going to like you…" Mikhail then trailed off as if he remembered that he had needed to do something.

"Oops, almost forget something. Hang on," Mikhail smirked.

The next moment Mikhail turned to the bench and both his clothes and book disappeared and in the next moment the man's wings were fully extended. He wasn't naked, much to Harry's disappointment, but was wearing a very revealing outfit more appropriate on a Greek warrior except that instead of a sword a huge scythe appeared in his hand.

The power radiating from this form was a sight to behold.

"Your time has come, soul," the man said in a voice with such power and depth that Harry's knees felt week.

The sickly looking child squawked and tried to run out from under the bench but was silenced when the scythe split it in two and Harry watched the soul fly up and then fade away.

Mikhail then turned to Harry as his appearance returned to the way it had been.

"Shall we?"

Harry just gaped at the man. He didn't think it was possible for Mikhail to become any more attractive or this place any more surprising.

Mikhail extended his hand and Harry took it without question. They locked eyes for a moment before disappearing from the In-Between and arriving in the Land of the Dead.

Reviews would be really helpful. I don't think I've ever been so nervous with posting a chapter before. I really like Mikhail. A lot.