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Harry Potter and the Breath of Life

"There will always exist a fear of the unknown. Some will fear taking that step forward, others will fear taking other paths than the one directly in front of them. A few will have the mysteries of their past haunt them throughout their lives, fear secrets that they have kept from even themselves, fear their potential, fear acheiving some distant goal, fear even the impossibilities and closed doors. Fear of the past, fear of the future, fear of failure, fear of weakness, fear of losing someone or something, fear of living, fear of death. All that which the conscious mind is not aware of spawns a primal instinct of fear in complex creatures. It's a hard thing to control and suppress but even when the results are successful, that fear can never be erased completely. Occulemency can help in the shielding of the mind from outside influences and even internally driven emotions but do not even attempt to go further than this introduction if you cannot acknowledge the anchor of your mental defenses. What do you fear?" - The Mental Defense by Rupert R. Bagnold


Harry hadn't slept a wink yet but that was ok; he'll just keep quiet about it. He couldn't find it in him to be too annoyed anyway. The green-eyed boy had tried to get angry but with Thana treating him like a teddy bear it was kind of hard to muster up the negative energy when he probably looked silly. She was almost cuddling him and it was taking him a while to figure out what he was supposed to think about it.

It was too weird of a feeling to really identify.

On her side and dead to the world, Thana moved very little. She was unnaturally still and much to Harry's surprise, she didn't even breathe. The rise and fall of the ribcage was absent, her eyes weren't moving beneath her eyelids no matter how deep in a sleep she seemed to be and the boy could have sworn that the temperature of the room had been steadily dropping. Either that or he was just warm for some reason.

Shrugging the thought off, Harry returned to staring at his left hand. Just like his right one, the palm glowed slightly darker in the absolutely abysmal lighting. It was lightly burnt and probably red, he could feel the skin stretch whenever he made a fist. And he made a fist often. His hands were small, even smaller than Thana's delicate ones, but he had felt them break an Incarnate's neck. Felt the punishment afterwards. And it had been so easy...One moment, the guy was alive and after that sharp sound, Harry knew he had died.

It was different from killing the troll. That had been...impersonal. A spell and then watching events unfold. This time, he felt his hands close on the throat, felt the windpipe give. And it had been an Incarnate that died in Thana's dream. Someone who was in control of Time! So very easy with only light burns to show for it.

It boggled the mind.

And she gave me one of her weaknesses, he remembered the bracelet and felt a little awed and more than a little suspicious as he clutched the arm it was on close. I wonder what she could gain from giving it to me...

Harry stared out into the darkness, letting loose his arm and his mind to run in whatever direction it wished. After a couple of minutes, though, he noticed a pattern. It began with "I'm" and ended in "hungry." He blew out an annoyed breath and Thana murmured something.

"Pardon?" he whispered while turning his head a little, not sure if she was even awake.

The hand by his stomach that had been the cause of the "teddy-bearing" slid up to his chest, her nails snagging on the cloth. "I said," she whispered back clearly. "Are you hungry?"

About a minute ago, Harry had been perfectly fine with the sleeping arrangment. He was twelve, not quite up to speed on social conventions and so thought barely anything of it other than "it feels weird" and "I'm glad everyone's asleep or sick." Now, with the movement of her hand and the very noticeable exhale of warm air on his neck, he felt as if 95 percent of the blood in his body had been drawn to his cheeks. Quite suddenly, it didn't feel so innocent and he fought the urge to roll onto the floor.

"A-a little...maybe..." Harry knew hs face must be glowing. With a light snort, Thana sat up, releasing him and Harry took advantage of the freedom by rolling off the bed. "Oof!"

The Incarnate of Death raised an eyebrow at him, expertly concealing the twitch of pain on her face. "Tense around me, aren't you?"

"You almost killed me..." he evaded while pushing himself up, his head hanging down to hide his burning face. "That's hard to ignore."

"Hmm." Harry was suddenly dangling off the floor by his robe collar. He blinked a few times and hesitantly reached for the floor as if to test that he was really floating above it. He kept reaching out a few times and then his mind caught up.

"Wha-hey! Put me down! Thana!"

"I'll have to decline," her amused voice said from above. She casually shook him from side to side as he sputtered and flailed his arms angrily. "Besides, you need to stay alive for a little while longer."

Harry froze. "What?" As soon as the word left his mouth, his dorm room melted into trailing wisps of white smoke. He let out a small sigh. "Where are we going?" I'm pretty sure I'm not allowed off school grounds...and if anyone could find out, its Dumbledore, he thought grimly as an image of himself scrubbing cauldrons by hand with Snape sneering at him 'Thought yourself above the rules, did you? Two hundred and thirty more to go, Potter!'

The Mists vanished and Harry was dropped onto hard pavement. He didn't bother getting up, just propping up his chin on his left hand as he drummed the street with his right hand's fingers. They were still in England, Big Ben in the distance told him that they didn't go that far, just back to London. Why though...

"Explain?"

"You didn't think that professor was going to satisfy you forever, did you?" Thana answered easily, oblivous to the boy's suddenly alarmed expression.

"You mean..." he started slowly, drumming fingers grinding to a halt.

The woman rolled her eyes upwards. "Death doesn't give up when it's got a hold on someone but Life exhausts itself." A mocking smirk formed on her lips. "It's only to be expected, I am stronger, after all. You need someone else before you start dying again."

"Wait, you want me to kill someone?" Quirrel had been trying to kill him. The late professor had been doing a good job too before whatever happened had happened. The end result was the teacher being dead and Harry had little problems with that...after he had been able to think it through during the rest of the school year and summer. Self defense. But she was talking about a cold blooded murder, something human, with a family. "I don't think I can-"

Thana hauled him to his feet roughly and when he looked, her face looked as if it had been carved from stone. "You're a true necromancer, boy, you should get used to it." She told him bluntly. "There are no comprimises." She pushed him forwards a bit and he stumbled. "Do or die."

At the ultimatum, Harry's features hardened as he slowly turned to face her. "You really ask a lot..."

"Is that so?" she asked airily. "In case it has slipped your mind, Pal isn't here to do you any favours." Thana seemed absolutely convinced that he would give in sooner or later. Harry didn't want to die but just the thought of murdering someone made him sick. Later then, it had to be later.

"Not now," he muttered quietly. "Just...no."

"There's a difference between now and later?" He kept quiet and she rolled her eyes again. "Utterly ridiculous...fine, whatever."

"It's called having morals!"

"It's called being stupid!" She paused. "And suicidal, in your case," she added as an after thought.

"I'm not doing it," Harry repeated stubbornly. Thana opened her mouth, probably to continue arguing with him but cut herself off. Literally biting on her index finger till it bled to keep words from coming out, she gave him a piercing stare that sent a shiver up his spine. His blood was turning into ice again and it was like she could see through him-

--Don't Death-- Harry jumped at the sudden whisper and Thana shrugged, holding out her right hand.

"Come on then..." she mumbled around her finger. The boy took cautious steps towards her and hesitantly grasped the offered hand. He was whisked away by the Mists again and this time was let go to stumble back into his own bed. He really needed to learn how to do that, waiting until the professors finally got around to apparition would take too damn long.

His thoughts must have shown up on his face because Thana began to laugh softly. "Later, boy, later."

"You're not mad," was Harry's observation and a familiar, chilling smirk was spreading across her lips.

"Mad? Of course not, it'll be interesting to see how long you hold out. After all," she made a broad sweeping gesture with her hand. "You'll do anything to live. Eventually." Harry scowled but he couldn't exactly deny it. 'Eventually' was the key word. Thana faded from sight with a cocky wave and the boy just sighed to himself. The voice in his head wasn't answering and this time, he knew it was not his fault.

He'd think about this later, he'd-

No...His eyebrows furrowed. Unless I want to be manipulated for the rest of my existence, I better think about it now. Starting with this...

He slipped the bracelet off his arm and immediately began to feel cold to the point of shivering. His breath was coming out in puffs of ice crystals as he stared at the obsidian snake and the dimly glowing ruby eyes. This was Thana's weakness, if she was to be believed. And he had it.

He turned his belated Christmas present around in his hands thoughtfully. It was doing something to him. The cold feeling was enough proof of that. But the question was: what exactly was it doing to him?

And how could he turn this around?

Did he want to?


"Rotting isn't exactly normal."

"Don't you think I know that, Luna!?"

It was early morning in the Great Hall, so early that the house elves had yet to put out the silverware and plates for breakfast. It was one of the least suspicious and yet most private place Hermione could think of. Ravenclaws were notorious for early morning/late night studying in the library with the passes given to them by Flitwick and conversing in the Commons was just stupid.

Sneaking around the castle trying to find an empty classroom or an uncomfortable broom closet...no. Anyone who found them would be able to tell immediately that they were trying to hide something.

Well, Hermione was trying to hide it. Luna didn't seem to care who knew.

"Aren't you going to tell your Master about it?"

The Gryffindor nodded her head absentmindedly and then jerked her eyes up in shock. "H-how, I mean, who w-w-would..." she abandoned her efforts when the blonde smiled. It wasn't a nice smile, razor thin and conscending.

"It wasn't hard to sense, Harry has little control over it, you know." Hermione stared. "But he did do a decent job making you. Memories intact, fluid movement, sense of self, ability to learn," Luna finished listing casually. The golem in question bristled at being described like an object.

"I'm a living, breathing person, thank you very much!" she snapped but Luna kept on smiling.

"No, you're an undead, breathing-out-of-habit, thing, thank you!" she sing songed. "I'm sorry, but that's just the way it is."

"And how would you know!?" As soon as the words left her mouth, Luna's smile died and the blonde curled up into herself. Hermione wanted to apologize but she couldn't manage to wrestle the words out of her mouth. So she didn't say anything.

And both of them just sat there until breakfast arrived.


He was carrying a particularly nasty, horrible, rotten, repulsive, no-good package to the Lovegood household. It was wrapped in at least ten layers of fabrics, maybe eleven or twelve since he might have lost count, that ranged from the relatively inexpensive dragonhide to the rare demiguise fur. The whole ensemble was still rather light, but he could never forget that he had it on him.

But soon, he'd be rid of it.

Uncaring of who saw the crotchety old man with misty blue eyes disappear behind the Lovegood wards, Ollivander marched right up to the front door where he proceeded to pound on it.

"Xenophilius!" he bellowed at the door. "Lovegood, I know you're in there!"

"If that is truly what you know," said a smarmy voice from behind him. "Then I wonder what it means for me to be elsewhere? Unknown, perhaps?" Ollivander turned, rolling his glass eyes in exasperation. "Careful not to dislodge the Spucus on your left eye there. Very touchy creatures."

To the vast majority of the Wizarding world, the Lovegood family were crackpots. Strange in a harmless way and even though their loyalties were always neutral, they were pariahs of the pureblood society. Their family tree was thin and linear as a result but certain individuals knew that no matter what happened, the line would never die out. Cecilia Lovegood, quite some time ago, had attracted the attention of an Incarnate who, in turn, never got bored with them.

"I have little patience for you, Insanity. Let me make my delivery in peace." Ollivander tried to be hopeful but his heart sunk as Xenophilius stepped to the side and opened a door out of mid air.

"Nonsense, sense non. We have all the time in the universe to spare, won't you come in?"

"I don't-"

"I must insist." The wand-crafter, inventor and immortal, hesitated. There was only one way off the property and the Incarnate of Insanity was blocking it with his impossible door. An Artifact, he knew it was. Most likely it lead to the Realms and those were places that he avoided at all costs.

"To the house only," he comprimised and Xenophilius pouted.

"Oh, if we must..." The space in between the door frames changed to reflect a cozy living room scene but he held his ground.

"Swear it." In the span of a second, the easy-going and day dreaming face of Insanity was replaced with a thundercloud, terrible and angry. It was a gamble, the Incarnate was more than capable of putting him through a fate worse than Death but Ollivander wasn't stupid. Even just one word from a Greater Being, indicated that they wanted something.

"Insanity invokes the Universe to witness: This door leads only to the inside of the mortal Lovegood home," Xenophilius ground out and from deep within the wand-crafter there was the feeling of a click! A woman's sultry voice began to reverbrate in his head stating,

"Desire stands witness. So mote it be." His blood turned to ice for a fraction of a second and then, satisfied, he stepped through the door. At his back he heard the irritated grumbles of Insanity and he hid a smug smile.

The Lovegood home was a quaint and surprisingly normal looking one. It greatly resembled a log cabin with certain granite fixtures, like the fireplace to give the colouring a dark undertone. The wood was a deep brown and the furniture ranged from dark blues to off-whites. The one faded lilac couch was completely covered with newspaper clippings from something called the Quibbler.

Ah, he remembered that farce of a paper. Still around was it?

He caught sight of one of the magical photos on the mantel: a small girl with light blonde hair, familiar greyish blue eyes who was excitedly trekking through high weeds with a net. At the bottom it read, "Luna, age six." He didn't realize that he was staring at the picture (dragon heart string wand, he remembered) until Insanity picked it up.

"My Chosen, when she hits thirteen," he stated proudly. "It took me eleven generations since Cecilia of careful breeding to produce her mother but the results are worth it."

Ollivander raised an eyebrow, unconsciously clutching his delivery closer. "A Spawn," he stated flatly. "You do realize that's an abomination, don't you?"

Insanity, Luna Lovegood's father, waved his hand around carelessly. "Mortal and immortal, abomination? No, that's perfection, two halves to create a flawless whole. They weren't happy, of course." He didn't have to say who "They" was. "But there was little they could do, even now. Sometimes Death turned a blind eye and in others she didn't but who understands that woman anyway?"

"Who indeed," Ollivander muttered and tossed his package onto the newspaper covered couch. "I wasn't about to wait for you to pay a visit."

"Come now!" The Incarnate's smile was so wide that it threatened to split his face in half. It was razor thin and just a tad conscending, like the other immortal was an illiterate child. "Don't you want to know what it is?"

"I made it," he shot back as he began to search for the front door. "I know."

"This wand can kill Death," Insanity drawled slyly. He stopped searching. "In the right hands, of course. The only fact you do know is whose hands those are. You made a prediction, am I right?"

"Terrible things..." he recited for his own benefit. The extent to which his own words were haunting him was astounding. But wait a minute... "You sided with Always, why would you have this?"

"My dear Thaddeus...you should know better!" he crowed happily as he spun around on his toes. "After all, you sided with Truth but in the end, you killed his Incarnation. Remember, cheater?"

"Thanatos won't stand for it," he warned as he shoved the painful reminder down but all he got was a wider smile until it really did split Xenophilius' face in half. The lips were literally stretching from ear to ear as the eyes glinted with cheerful malice.

"Oh? But you see, there's this boy..."


"I'm G-ginny Weasley...I, um, I live by Luna in St. Ottery...I have six brothers..."

Six? Harry thought absently. Good Lord.

Draco was still being held captive by the Hospital Wing, Hermione was avoiding him for some reason, no matter how many times he poked his 'other' self wouldn't talk to him, Thana was currently absent and the only reliable book he could find on necromancers (without delving into the Restricted section) was a Ministry biased one that portrayed him as a monster. The appearance of the glaring Ronald Weasley and his sister just made his morning even worse.

Weasley, the female one, was a completely different person. She was more animated, actually seemed nervous talking to him and for once didn't have a death grip on that book.

Harry eyed it. It was even more ratty looking up close with the color on the book's edges worn away by frequent handling, the pages were yellowed and crinkly and from what he could see of the spine it read-

His eyes narrowed and he nonchalantly took off his glasses.

Ginny looked to be on the verge of keeling over from starvation. What had once been a talkative girl was now little more than skin and bones. Her hair was missing in clumps, her mouth shriveled and cracked and her sunken eyes burned silver. The dim shape of an ankh, a winged cross with a loop on the top, was on her forehead. The book was still a book. Still tattered, still black with still gold lettering but where he had once seen T M Ridd-

It read Book of L-

He put his glasses back on.

"A-are you alright?" Weasley asked timidly and Harry grunted.

"Headache." He lied as he reached over and plucked the book from her hands. He kept hold of it for about two seconds until pain exploded at his right cheek. Before he even knew what was happening, he was on the floor with both his cheek and the back of his head throbbing. Ronald was yelling something that sounded like, "Knocked you flat, Potter!" and he came to the conclusion that Weasley, the female one, had hit him.

"Ginerva Molly Weasley!" That sounded like Pince. "What in Merlin's name were you thinking!?"

The red headed girl was once again holding the book in close, eyes cold and jaw set. "Leaving," she said flatly and without looking back, she pushed her way out the door. Straightening himself up irritatedly, Harry sat once again at the table and continued reading through his book like nothing had happened. Ronald and his few friends had tried to rile him up by taunting him (about being hit by a girl of all things, Thana cured him of that) but soon became bored and left.

The Library became silent again just in time. With a slight stinging sensation, Harry's sickle shaped scar opened up and began to bleed.

"Shit," he swore as a few red droplets fell on the table. Head wounds bled copiously and if this couldn't heal...

Pomfrey.

He closed the book and began to jog his way down the Hospital Wing. He figured he must look like a right fright with blood running down his face. Maybe the fact that he had been hurt would quell the rumours? He snorted and promptly tripped over a body.

He knew it was a body the moment his foot touched it because it was the impact gave off a muffled thud, it was soft and yet too firm to lose shape. It felt just like tripping over a person except this one didn't flinch or make a sound when hit. On his knees (he really was ending up on the floor a lot lately) he looked back.

Hufflepuff robes. Looked like a Second Year.

Dead.

The sudden compulsion to bring the boy back washed over Harry like a tidal wave. The Rose was pushing, straining and stretching something in his head. His eye sight blurred into tunnel vision and then he was outside of his body. Watching himself reach behind his shoulder and grab the flowery hilt of Life's Artifact. He reached out to stop himself from pulling it out-

And then he was back. Frozen in the act, horribly stiff and looking dead in the gold eyes of something large.

There was the sound of a quill scratching on old paper.

"Sorry, Potter." Weasley.

Fuck, Harry thought as he struggled to move.

His whisper made itself known for the first time today with less than good news. --Double fuck--

He was getting cold, from his feet the chill was slowly traveling up as the luminescent gold eyes moved away. The coldness paused at his bracelet but eventually swept down to his hands and to the tips of his fingers. Across his chest it spread, it was getting hard to breathe, and then up his neck, over his mouth, his nose...

And then darkness.


The paint brush clattered to the decaying earth as Hel stared at her greying right arm in wonder. Nearby, Tyr's strumming on the guitar suddenly hit a harsh and extremely loud note.

In Sparta, Kring continued to flex his suddenly stiff fingers and in Tartarus, Thanatos sighed as her right arm turned to stone. "Idiot boy."

In the Chamber, underneath Hogwarts castle, Palquenta stiffened momentarily and then vomited out blood.


Delay, delay, delay..sorry, hit a patch of writers block. I don't like this chapter but everyone has been waiting for long enough! It's a bit longer than usual to kind of, maybe, hopefully make up for it.