Scythe of a Wizard
Chapter 1
HAPPY FRIDAY THE 13TH!
Seriously, I am so sorry to those who expected this to be updated by now. I really had to read over and over again to make sure it was good. I've been adding and deleting so many things for the past few days preparing for this day. I am still not satisfied with it but it's as good as it's going to get.
The chapter starts about a year afterwards. It will start sometime around October. Okay, so I will make it October eighteenth, 1996. Everyone that was in Harry's year, Ron and Hermione, are now in sixth year.
Harry-Age 14/15-(Shinigami are technically dead and so do not age or age slowly)-height 5'5-birthday July 31, 1980
October 7, 1996
In a shop, or better yet, in a coffin, lay a man or teen to those who looked close enough or were too scared to look away. Across his face, running below his right cheek and bellow his left eye was a stitched scar. On his neck was a partially hidden scare, matching the one on his face. Atop his head was an old, worn-out top hat with a cloth tied around it running off of the hat down passed his back. He wore a long, black jacket that went past his knees. The sleeves were loose covering his hands, hiding the long, black nails. Black, high heeled boots held tightly around his feet up to his knees with far too many buckles to be useful. Underneath were thin black pants and a white button up shirt that was hidden behind the long coat that covered half his neck snuggly.
Undertaker was in a happy mood. He was always in a happy mood but today was different. Today was a very busy day at his shop. So many people were dying in England. It was as if it was back in the old days again, so many murders and so many sales on coffins. Bodies that weren't missed for his experiments. He was enjoying his time scaring every person who walked into his shop. He even got a few to try out some of his coffins. He also happened to through off the Shinigami who were still chasing him.
He giggled. He had been one of the best and now was wanted by the very same people who looked up to him for the past thousand years. With all the resent deaths lately, the Shinigami hadn't really had the time to look for him. He helped out a bit, sending the souls and their cinematic memory to the Shinigami world. After all, most of the deaths were his fault. From his calculation, it should have already been over a year and a half since his death as Harry potter.
The doorbell jingled. He smiled a toothy grin and popped up from his coffin he lay in, "Welcome, would you like to try a coffin."
His long, silver hair gathered at his waist as he sat up. His smile slipped as he saw the man in front of him. He knew him from somewhere but he couldn't think where. The man was not smiling. His neatly combed, blonde hair lay flat against his head. His white suit gleaming in the late afternoon sun streaming in threw the open door.
"I see you have wasted the gift the most Pure Gods have given you, Shinigami." The man said, his voice like silk against Undertaker's ears; a most grating noise that annoyed him.
Boring, He thought then giggled, "Yes, I see. I think I know you but maybe I meet you in a dream. You are angelic so you must be an angel from my dreams come to whisk me away to our honeymoon."
The man, Angel, sneered, "Disgusting. I once thought The Gods made an excellent choice but they have been deceived by such a tainted soul pretending to be innocent."
Undertaker thought for a moment, rubbing his most unusually long sleeved hand against his chin in mock concentration, "Ah, I remember you. Caser or was it Casty, something like that." Undertaker laughed, "What can I do for you, Cassie? I have some very nice coffins on sale. Hm, do Angels use coffins?"
"How dare you. I am Castel, High Angel of the Heaven's army, appointed by The Gods themselves. Do not disrespect me, lowly Shinigami." The Angel was mad, "I am here yet again on the Almighty Gods behalf. I am sure you have realized the deaths among the humans. You know it is the work of wizards. Dark and impure as they are, it is not hard to miss."
Undertaker was smiling again, "And what does this have to do with me? I am, as you say, a lowly Shinigami."
"You are but you are supposedly the saver of the light wizards. The Gods feel that you may be able to intervene and stop the deaths of innocent humans, as innocent as tainted souls could be. Angels and Shinigami are unable to interfere in the lives of humans. You, on the other hand, are for some reason. You have been able to live amongst humans without consequence to you or the humans. This is most unheard of. Only Demons are able to do such a thing but only with a contract tethering them to the soul of a human."
"Again, what does this have to do with me?" It was hard to control his laughter at the disgusted look on the Angel's face, so he didn't.
"You are to go to the magical group you had part in and stop this filthy human and his followers. You know the havoc this human can bring about should the equilibrium of the worlds' fall out of balance should more souls parish. With the flux of magic being expelled and having nowhere to go, the creatures of this world and others only need feed on the magic left behind." He explained, the sneer never leaving his lips, "It appears that the Gods have bestowed upon one of Their chosen Seers a great prophesy. A prophesy foretold of a way to stop this fowl human. I am sure you know of which I speak."
Undertaker did not speak for a moment, a coldness shifting amongst him and the Angel, though the being showing no signs of discomfort. Ah, Undertaker thought, It all made sense now. And indead it did. No wonder the so called Gods chose him amongst all of the other dead. They needed Their foretold saver to solve Their problems as if it had anything to do with him.
He spoke finally after the deafening silence, "And how do you expect me to just integrate back into the wizarding world if I am supposedly dead? I much prefer my simple living and little shop." He said, the amusement in his eyes under the long, silver bangs showing though his hatred for this being quite clear, "You really think I could even possibly think to pass as Harry Potter, hehe?"
"Of course not but since you are, it doesn't matter if you pass or not, you are him and there for can stop this dark wizard." He said, waving off his words, "It is either that or you can be taken back to the Shinigami world and tried for your crimes against The Gods and die. Painfully."
"You really aren't that fun. I guess I have no choice but after I kill the wizard, you and your little band of Shinigamis will leave me in peace along with my shop." He said and there was no room for argument. He would really rather die. Painfully. Then be bothered for the rest of his long, long life at the beck and call of some vile Angel.
He nodded, "The Gods have already said such but you will also resume part of your Shinigami duties while at the school. There has been a flux of ghosts gathering at the wizard school. They expect you to fix it. The Shinigami and Angels have been unable to travel into the places abundant with human magic."
"Fine, fine. I guess you will be leaving then. Don't forget to come back and buy a coffin. I will give you a discount price, darling." He covered his mouth with the long sleeves hiding his hands, "Just wear something a little darker. The white bothers my gloom."
Castel snorted disgustedly, "You are expected to be at the school no later than two days from now. As Harry Potter. Oh, and I forgot to mention. You will have a monthly checkup from one of your old shinigami acquaintances. I am sure you remember him. He is the only other to be able to interact with the humans."
Undertakers smile became strained and tight, "You mean that horrid red…thing. He is not a person, he is a thing. A thing. A horrible red thing."
"Live with it. Grell will come every month. Do not fail the Gods again." Castel said.
He turned and walked out of the shop. The smile dropped from Undertakers lips. This day was not a happy one for the Shinigami, not a happy one indeed. Finally finding a place that no Shinigami could locate and an Angel comes instead. Now he had to return to the magic people and save their pathetic lives all because he was some kind of Chosen One. Bull shit. They can save their own damn selves but now he was facing death at the hands of vengeful Shinigami. Very painful.
He would have to begin packing up his shop for the year and in only two days. That would be the real nightmare. And he had only just finished putting his shop together no more than a year ago.
Perhaps he could pretend to be someone else and not Harry Potter. No, the Angel said he would be attending the school once more under that name. Why, why couldn't he just be Undertaker and not some wizard? He really didn't like being looked up to and those wizarding brats were unrelenting.
That was one of the reasons he left the Shinigami. He had become one of the best and so many people began to follow him as if he were one of the Gods. What a joke he was. Nothing more than something for people to look at, to be put on a pedestal. He hated being a symbol of hope. And at last, with his little shop, he didn't have to. Of course, that made him an enemy to the Shinigami for being a deserter and killing quite a few Shinigami in his escape to the human world.
He was over a thousand years old and he was giddy as a first year going to school. There was one thing he knew. There was no way in Hell he would be wearing those uniforms. He loved his clothes. They were what made him the Undertaker. Everything was simple and he liked it that way. No bright happy things, no superficial colors that told him what personality he had, no red, yellow, orange, purple, green, or silver. Just black, the way he liked it.
He put the 'closed' sign up on the door. He usually stayed open late if any of his 'guests' aka, ghosts came by to give him information he sold on the black market. But tonight, he wanted to sleep. He climbed into his black coffin with silk lining and padding on the inside and a build in pillow. He crossed his arms over his chest and fell asleep.
END