Thank you so much for the favs/follows/reviews people! Made me very happy :)
To Firehedgehog: ...ah, sorry if there is confusion, meant to be talking about his godson.
The first thing that Harry saw when he opened his eyes happened to be a high ceiling filled with stalactites. He sat up, hope in his heart that maybe he could see his parents, that finally he was free. All he saw was that he was sat at a wall in a cave, a large pool to his side.
He closed his eyes again, drawing his knees up and hugging them, letting out a weary sigh.
Of course it wouldn't have worked. What was he thinking, he's Harry Potter, the one who lived to have all things go wrong.
For what felt like an age, he sat, not thinking, trying to accept that death had still not been reached. For surely, even if he were to be damned, there would be someone else here with him, he wouldn't be alone?
Sick of his attitude of wallowing in his woes, he stood up, ready to face this new occurrence, hoping that maybe he could now live. As he did so, he felt his cloak move forwards and glanced down to avoid treading on it before freezing in shock. It had changed. Instead of the shimmering mix of colours that he was used to, it now resembled a cloth spun from shadows and smoke.
Harry couldn't understand how this had happened. Why would the cloak have changed? Did it have something to do with the Veil of Death? Suddenly struck by a mix of irrational fear and curiosity, he walked over to the pool. Knowing his luck, something about his appearance would have drastically changed too.
In a strange stroke of fortune he didn't actually look too different. He was still pale with black hair and green eyes, he still had his face. The differences however, seemed to be more along the lines of the shades. His eyes fairly shone with power, glowing out in a brilliant shade of emerald. His hair, still as messy as ever, looked to be made of darkness. Looking at his skin he saw that it was unblemished, all of his scars gone, leaving behind a paleness lightly dusted in grey.
After noting these changes, Harry saw that it wasn't just his cloak that had been changed. He was no longer wearing his shabby jeans and shirt combo but showed a smart figure cut in black dress shirt, trousers and shoes along with a tie of dark grey.
Confused as to why his clothes would have changed Harry was caught off guard when the pool rippled suddenly, as if a stone had dropped into the centre, and a large image of the full moon replaced his reflection.
After a brief moment of staring at the water flabbergasted, Harry looked at the ceiling. There was nothing but rock above the pool. How on earth did the image change as it had?
Traveller.
Shocked, Harry quickly looked up from the image, glancing about himself to see where the voice had come from. The words seemed to echo within his head.
I am Tsar Lunar.
Baffled at the fact that the words seemed to be thought at him from the image of the moon, he hesitantly waved at it.
"I'm Harry?"
You reek of death. What do you wish upon this world?
Getting the feeling that Tsar Lunar was getting hostile, Harry decided to actually think before speaking for once. What did he want?
"N-nothing...I left my world as I had no purpose. I wanted the end."
After a long moment, the moon seemed to shine even brighter, causing him to shade his eyes. It felt like his very being had been exposed. There was pause before a rush travelled through him from the light, it felt like he had been filled with something, there was a click in his mind. As the feeling settled, the light began to dim and he lowered his hand, feeling that something had been decided and that he had been changed in some way.
I shall give you a purpose, Death's Master.
To begin with, Harry's hopes had been lifted, but they were soon crushed once his title had been revealed. He wished to escape all the death. He accepted that death was inevitable and a natural end to life, but that did not mean that he wished to be around it constantly.
Do not worry. You do not control or cause death. You will aid in the crossing, from this world to the next. Bring comfort to the ones who pass and those who are left behind. Help them to not be afraid.
Goodbye Harry Peverell, Master of Death.
As the words faded from his mind, the pool once again rippled and the moon disappeared, leaving behind his reflection once again.
His thoughts were in turmoil. He didn't want this purpose. To deal with the grief that death brings, and there would be grief. It would not only be from whatever loved ones that would be left but also from him, he would not be able to separate himself from the circumstances, he still cared too much.
A headache began to build. His heart was heavy with the burden of his new purpose. As his sadness increased, so too did the headache. Wincing, he put a hand to his head, trying to relieve himself of the ache with some of his magic, only to find that he couldn't. His wandless magic did not respond, in fact, his magic felt to have been changed to something completely different.
As he threw himself further into panic, the pain in his head grew and the new magic that filled him seemed to rise up. Unable to control what was going on the magic burst out as the pain reached a crescendo. Screaming out in pain from the magic rushing through him he collapsed. Once again losing consciousness.