Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Darker than Black. Do I wish I owned them? Course I do! Do I? No. No I don't.

Talking - "Moo, I'm a chicken!"

Thinking - 'That...doesn't make any sense.'

Flashbacks - It doesn't have to! Now gimme your soul!

Parseltongue - "No!"

Deities of some sort...dun wanna spoil! - "I said gimme!"

Warnings - I got a bit more violent and angsty than I meant to at one point...whoops. I think it's still T though. It isn't all angsty for long, but hey! Backstory is necessary. Minor language as well.

A/N: Yay! I'm back! Sorry this chappie took so long, I'm a high school student, so I gotz lotsa homework to do and stuuuuff. Plus, this chapter had to be practically dragged from my brain...it didn't wanna leave. And I'm lazy. And my muse is temperamental. Yeah. Also, kinda forgot to mention in chapter one that this fic has allusions to child abuse. Nothing descriptive or worthy of M-rating, but it's there. Oh, and if this fic ever does hit M-rating, it would be 'cause of violence, not sex. At this point, I don't have any pairings in mind, but if anyone has any requests I'll see if I can work them in, if they don't screw with my plot. Once again, high school student here, I don't really have any experience with romance beyond what I've read. Thanks to you guys who reviewed and favorited and followed my fic! It makes me so happy! Like I'm actually doing something useful!

Another thing I forgot to mention, in case the flashback in the previous chappie wasn't a clue, this isn't epilogue compliant. Or…anything after the final battle compliant I guess…there's a few years missing in between and some ambiguity involving Harry's horcrux piece that'll be explained, but other than that, I think we're good! For now! Oh, and pretty much everyone that was even anywhere near close to him emotionally is dead. That's all. On to the ficness!

A/N 2(12/25/2013): Re-posted this chapter in order to add a scene that I forgot. I also realized that, for some reason, when I first posted this I pretended that spell check didn't exist. I fixed that, so now this should be pretty much spelling-error free. In addition, I spaced my paragraphs a bit better, so it's easier to read. Yay.

Chapter 1

Harry awoke with nary a sound, his breathing kept even and his eyelids shut while his ears perked up listening for threats. To an outside source he would seem to still be asleep; his position in the war made this automatic reaction a necessity due to the possibility of capture. If his captors believed him to still be asleep, there would be a small window time during which he could possibly escape. In this particular case, his skill allowed him to hear the muffled snickers of an auror outside his cell, and gracefully dodge an aguamentai aimed for his supposedly unconscious form. The expression on the auror's face was priceless, and would've had him laughing his ass off if he had the emotions for it. "If you wanted me awake, all you had to do was ask. I'd rather not get wet in a cold place like this." Harry said monotonously, one eyebrow raised in a silent question. The auror seemed momentarily unnerved, but soon regained his equilibrium, much to Harry's muted annoyance.

"Hmph. Whatever. Potter," his name was spat out like an insult, and with such venom, that Harry wondered if the auror had been taking lessons with Snape. "The minister's called for you. I'm to take you to the ministry for a retrial. Perhaps you'll get the sentence you deserve this time." The auror huffed, poking his chest out in pride. Harry thought he looked like a posing peacock. 'Or Percy Weasley pre-battle perhaps?' However, his words did draw Harry's attention, and his curiosity. 'This auror doesn't look like too much of a threat...well against an unarmed kitten perhaps, but not against me...could this be a chance for an escape attempt? ...no, why bother? Where would I go even if I could escape? All my friends are dead, the entirety of the wizarding world is against me, what would I do? Go live with muggles? Tch. At least it's something to do, counting the cracks on the wall of my cell isn't exactly the most interesting thing I could be doing...I honestly think I'd rather be dead.' aloud, all he said was, "Is that so?"

The auror seemed bewildered by his lack of reaction, but quickly hid it behind a weak mask of bravado and began trying to intimidate him. "Heh, if I were you Potter, I'd be a bit more worried. Seeing as murderers usually get the Kiss and all..." He trailed off, laughing at what, to him, a witty taunt, but stopped when he realized that Harry had just continued staring at him apathetically. When his taunts didn't work, the auror gave up, annoyed. "Well, move out of the way Potter!" He snarled, spelling the cell's door open with much more force than necessary, almost hitting Harry in the face when he didn't move immediately.

He reached in, wand relaxed by his side, and grabbed Harry by the shoulder, intending to manhandle him all the way to the ministry as revenge. 'Hmmm...no.' Harry thought as he lifted a single hand to the one on his shoulder, and squeezed. The sound of bones creaking and the auror's scream filled the suddenly quieter corridor, the more sane inmates having silenced themselves in order to figure out what was going on. "Argh!" The auror dropped to his knees inside the cell, unable to handle the pain, his wand falling from his hand to the floor, and rolling to a stop in front of Harry's feet. Harry released the man, grabbing his wand, and pointed it at him. The auror looked up at him, his eyes filled with fear, which turned to confusion when Harry flipped the wand so that its base was facing the man, and held it out to him. The auror quickly sprung to his feet, snatching the wand from Harry's grasp and pointed it at him. Harry merely glanced at him, before stating "Well, come. We don't want to keep the esteemed minister waiting." and walking out the door of his cell, coming to a stop directly outside. The auror, though confused, scrambled after him, keeping his wand trained on him, and a physical distance of at least a meter at all times.

The walk to the boat that would take them outside of Azkaban's wards was a long one, at least for the auror. As Harry passed by the other cells, he was victim to insults, angered screams, insane cackles, and other prisoners (mostly death eaters whom he'd put in the cells himself) throwing themselves dementedly at the bars in an attempt to get at him. It was highly disconcerting for the auror, and made even more so by the fact that Harry didn't react in any way other than to dodge when the other prisoners spit at him, keeping an emotionless visage throughout the course of their walk.

After an indeterminable amount of time, much too long the auror would say, the duo finally reached the surface, the auror sighing quietly in relief as they exited the dementor infested hovel. The two quickly boarded the boat that was spelled to take them out of the range of Azkaban's wards, the auror almost falling into the chilly water when Harry jumped into the boat before he had gotten himself settled. Perhaps it was petty, but he almost couldn't help himself. With a dirty look for Harry and a quietly muttered password, they were on their way, the boat moving slowly through the salty water without need for rowing.

Over the course of the next hour or so, Harry found himself enjoying the sight of sunlight again, the feel of it warming his cold body, and the blue of the slightly cloudy sky. Well, as much as he could without the proper emotions. His stay in Azkaban hadn't been kind to him, though he came out better than most. 'At least my sanity is still intact, if nothing else. Though I suppose one's sanity is a matter of opinion.' He thought to himself, leaning over the side of the boat to see his reflection. A pale, dirty, unkempt, bony looking man stared back at him, his eyes shadowed by his hair. His once full face was sunken and covered by a scraggly beard and mustache, and, when he lazily tucked his hair behind one ear, he could see that his eyes were duller than they used to be. 'Hmmm...I look as though I could be dead, with my eyes as blank as they are...' he thought uncaringly to himself, before running his fingers through his reflection, leaving only ripples.

"Hands in the boat!" the auror barked, his face set in a sullen grimace. He knew he couldn't control Harry physically, but surely there was a way for him to show his superiority? Harry stared at him, and the man wondered if he would even comply, before pulling his hands back and setting them in his lap while staring over the lip of the boat. The auror grinned to himself, deluding himself into thinking that Harry had been listening to him out of fear, but he was proven wrong when, moments later, an unidentifiable limb stuck itself out of the water where Harry's hands had been before. The auror deflated when he realized that Harry only moved his hands because he wanted to, and sunk even lower into his mental depression when Harry stuck his hands back in the water to poke the limb before it disappeared. A few minutes later, to the auror's joy, they got out from under the wards, and to a point where they could portkey out. The auror gave Harry one portkey, took the other for himself, said the password, closed his eyes, and waited for the hook through his navel to deposit him before opening them again. He disliked portkeys; they always made him feel sick.

Harry had landed on his feet, long having gotten over his problems with portkeys. What use would he be if he had to portkey into a battle and landed on his ass? He glanced around to find himself in what looked to be a ministry holding cell. Compared to where he was about three hours ago, it was practically a palace, but in reality it was about the same size as his previous cell, just warmer and less dreary. There was also a cot with an actual blanket, and a toilet in the corner. After his brief inspection, he turned his attention to the auror, whose portkey had transported him to directly outside of Harry's new cell. He had a triumphant expression on his face.

"Well Potter, this'll be the end for you I'm sure. Murderers don't get anything less than the kiss or the veil nowadays." the auror stated in a matter of fact tone, seeming as though he expected a response. When Harry didn't say anything, and merely stared, the auror's triumphant expression changed to one of annoyance, and his wand hand twitched as though he wished he could curse him through the bars. However, Harry was in luck, as the man still had fear of him even from behind bars. "Your trial begins in about two hours, I will be back for you then." He said, sneering, before turning on his heel and storming out, his robes billowing out behind him in a way reminiscent of a certain potions professor. '...He definitely got lessons from Snape.' Harry thought, his mind flashing back to his most recent memory of his potions professor.

Pale skin punctured by fangs, a mixture of blood and poison oozing from an open wound, onyx eyes usually full of glaring anger and spite glazed over, tears slipping down the blank face of a dead man...

Harry gave himself a mental shake to rid himself of the memory before going back to his thoughts. 'I guess they're planning on getting rid of me quickly? Hm...' With the auror out of the way, Harry turned to his cot, and laid himself down for some shut eye on the comfiest thing he'd had access to in years. He had a feeling that this wouldn't go as easily as the auror thought it would, if only because he wouldn't allow it. He was bored enough as it was, no need to go adding to it. He rolled over, grabbing the blanket and pulling it up to his chin, trying to wrap it around his metal cuffs to dull the cold, before departing to the land of nod.

"Maria, run!" Harry froze outside the door to the house he'd been staying in for the past few months, his instincts immediately demanding his silence. He stood outside the door for a moment, his body already trying to decide on fight or flight. There was a blood curdling scream, then silence. Harry ignored his instincts telling him to run, bursting through the doorway and tearing into the living room. He sucked in a breath at the sight in front of him, feeling as though he'd just taken a direct hit to the stomach and had all the breath knocked out of him.

Jannet, the muggle woman he'd been staying with since awaking in the forest to the sight of her and her teenage daughter's campfire as they cared for him, was standing, looking down towards her stomach with a confused expression and holding her throat as blood leaked through her fingers. He could see her daughter behind her, no, through her, staring at her mother in transfixed horror. Jannet met his eyes, the confused look fading to be replaced with one he had hoped never to see on her face, the blank one he associated with death. Her hands fell from her throat as she fell to her knees, and blood began to pour from the wound she'd previously been covering. She smashed face first to the floor, the hole through her middle and the slash in her throat quickly causing a large puddle of blood to form as Harry stared.

Harry began to hyperventilate. 'Jannet, no. No, no, nonononono, this wasn't supposed to happen! Nononono!' "N-no...mum..." Harry jerked himself forcefully from his panic attack at the sound of Maria's, Jannet's daughter, voice, and looked up at her from where he had fallen to one knee by the body. To his horror, he saw her held by death eaters whom he'd somehow managed to miss during his panicked sprint into the living room. The death eaters were smirking, masks held by their sides. "What...what's going on? This can't be happening. Who are you people? What've you done to my mum? Mum? Mum, you have to get up. Mum? Mum! C'mon mum!" He watched as she ripped herself free of the death eaters holding her, and ran to her mother's body, her long brown hair flowing behind her.

"We were going to go out really quick to get some stuff for Harry's birthday, and this was gonna be his best one ever cause we thought he looked too sad! Remember mum? C'mon, get up! You don't want me and Harry to be sad, right?" She picked up her mother's body and shook her, tears beginning to form in her eyes. He was completely frozen, he couldn't move, couldn't process. "Mum? Mum! Please! You have to wake up!" She began to sob, heart wrenching wails of sorrow. Then, he heard one of the death eaters cast a cutting curse. Harry dove forward, but everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. He tackled her to the floor, feeling relief since he'd at least been able to save her, and quickly began mentally planning how he was going to get them out of there, but it turned to horror as she coughed, blood flying out of her mouth to land on his cheek. Her coughs came quicker, blood flowed, he couldn't stop it. "Mum and I won't blame you." she said, oddly calm in her pre-death state, "It wasn't your fault anyway." she said, her trusting, blue eyes, previously so full of life and laughter filling his own with regret, guilt, and grief. She coughed again, blood pouring out over her lips and dripping onto his lap where he was holding her. With her dying breath, she said, "And you always forgive family." Before her eyes too gained that look he hated so much. And he couldn't stop it.

He looked at the death eaters, who looked smug, and knew there was no way he could beat all of them, seeing as it was six on one. But maybe he could escape...he turned and ran, the death eater's laughter and some dark curses following him. He heard one death eater say in a voice he knew all too well, "Let him run. If nothing else, he gets to live with the blame for causing this family's death." The man's silver eyes followed him, burning into his back, his words delivered with mock sympathy. 'Lucius Malfoy...I will kill you someday.' Harry thought as he ran, leaping through the forest surrounding the home. 'All I seem to be doing is running.' he thought, wiping away tears.

He was still too close though, because when they lit the house on fire he could see it in the distance. And he couldn't stop it. Couldn't stop it. 'I couldn't stop it...' he thought. It was too much. 'Too much...why?' Barely knowing where he was going, he apparated away, collapsing in an abandoned construction site he remembered passing with Maria and Jannet, and somehow managing not to splinch himself. Though, the physical pain would've been a good distraction from the emotional pain. 'Because they were with me. I put them in danger. I'm responsible for their deaths...' The grief, the regret, so many emotions swirling within him that he felt like he'd explode. He was startled when he heard screaming, and even more startled when he realized it was coming from him. He shuddered at the mental blow that came when he realized that, no matter what Maria might have said, their deaths were his fault. He was to blame again...

Harry was awoken from his dream, no, his memory, by the return of the auror from before. He sat up sluggishly, rubbing his eyes and yawning, stretching the kinks out of his back as the auror looked on impatiently. Ever since he'd locked away his emotions, he'd come to expect the memories coming back to try and haunt him at night. They didn't particularly bother him, in fact sometimes they helped. He could practically view his memories as one would in a pensive, and figure out moments in the past where he'd made mistakes. That way, he wouldn't make those mistakes again.

He pulled the blanket back from himself, rubbing the metal cuffs around his wrists to try and bring some warmth into them, and stood away from the door as the auror spelled it open, allowing himself to be pulled from the cell and guided down some dark hallways, and though the ministry atrium. He kept his eyes and ears peeled, almost expecting an attack from a hidden witch or wizard, but his preparations were for naught, as he wasn't attacked on his way to the courtroom. In fact, he didn't see any ministry personnel or citizens as he made his way down to the courtroom they'd chosen for his re-trial.

When he found it to be courtroom 10, he was almost nostalgic. 'Ah, the location of my first trial. I was so naive back then. Actually believing in the government to do its job? Tch.' He though lazily as he wandered over to the chained chair. He sat down, almost daring the chains to touch him, but all they did was rattle a bit before remaining to his side.

He looked up to survey who all would be residing over the trial, and felt a tiny spark of genuine surprise flit past his mental barriers when he saw Cornelius Fudge in the minister's seat. 'Perhaps no one else wanted the job?' He mused. 'There goes all my years of work. One magical apocalypse by death eaters averted, now there'll be one because of the stupidity of the current minister.' He almost sighed.

"Order, order!" The minister yelled, banging his gavel to get the attention of the already silent room. 'I rest my case.' Harry deadpanned. The minister cleared his throat before beginning, "We are here to witness the trial of one Harry James Potter. He is being charged with murder, burglary, assault, arson, robbery, fraud, domestic violence, kidnapping, shoplifting, loitering..." At that point Harry stopped listening, only bothering to idly add a mental comment every now and then. 'Oh, I remember that son of a bitch. I was so glad when I killed him...don't care now though.' 'I never abused any animals, what's he talking about?' 'Okay, I know I never killed that man's daughter, I think I would remember something like that.' 'Who? ...wow, really? I killed a light family? You sure? That doesn't even make any sense...' 'Loitering in front of Flourish and Blotts? Truly?' 'Who the bloody hell elected this moron?'

Harry glanced around, finding that Fudge had stopped speaking, and everyone was staring at him as though they were expecting something. 'Oh. I guess I missed something.' Aloud he said blandly, "Sorry, what?" He almost enjoyed the reddening shade of the minister's face. "I said, Mr. Potter, do you plead guilty or not guilty?" He spat, glaring at him. "Oh. That." Harry replied, an empty smirk flitting across his face when the minister's face turned purple. "I plead guilty." There was silence in the courtroom. "Guilty?" Fudge repeated, a bewildered expression on his face. "Yes, guilty." Harry said, speaking slowly as though to a child.

"W-well...then, for your crimes, you will be sentenced to the dementor's kiss!" Fudge blustered angrily, some of his fellow jurymen and women nodding vindictively in agreement, all of them anticipating Harry's expression of fear, and looking lost at his response. "Kay." Harry said carelessly. "Don't you care at all about your life young man? Not even going to try and defend yourself?" A sharp faced older woman in purple robes said, eyeing Harry suspiciously. 'What exactly would be suspicious about my wanting to die?' Harry's eyes narrowed minutely.

"Well, there's not really a point is there?" He said blankly. "What do you mean?" Another member of the court said, this time a middle aged man. "Well, we all know why we're really here. I mean, why don't we just give up this farce?" Harry said, his apathetic expression unnerving more than one of the court. "What are you talking about boy?" A fat, gray haired man in green wizard's robes asked, swelling indignantly, reminding Harry of his Uncle Vernon. "You know that all these things are true, why you just admitted you were guilty of them yourself!" Harry yawned before stating dryly, "Sorry, I couldn't hear you over all the bullshit." That sent the court into an uproar. 'It's times like this that I almost wish that I had emotions, just so I could enjoy the special things in life.' Harry thought with a quiet snort, which was lost to the noise of the court.

"Order! Order!" Fudge said, banging his gavel loudly to get everyone's attention. "Well, if this is such a farce, then what exactly are we hiding Mr. Potter? All we're doing is getting justice for all of your numerous crimes." The minister said with a triumphant expression, as though certain that Harry couldn't possibly have any incriminating suggestions, and was merely being a brat. Harry stared at him before speaking, slowly and deliberately. "I'm too powerful, a wild card. I killed Voldemort, I killed death eaters, I killed people associated with death eaters, and I killed the odd person who got in my way and annoyed me with their stupidity. And yet, the public still loved me. At least, they did before some part of the general public decided that killing guilty and stupid people is a bad thing. Then, the rest of the public followed like the sheep they are. Mob mentality I suppose." He said, tapping the side of his head with a shrug. "You, all of you here," he continued, turning his attention from solely Fudge to the rest of his audience, "Took advantage of that, and put yourselves in positions of power to 'catch the uprising dark lord before he could do worse than he'd already done'." He said, watching as the many politicians blanched. "And now, you want to get rid of me before the fickle public can decide that they love me again and allow me to take your positions of power." He finished.

Throughout his entire explanation, he kept his expressionless visage, looking around the room before his gaze landed back on the minister. He stared into Fudge's eyes, the nervous man quickly breaking eye contact. "W-well, in any case, we must hold the vote now." He said, quickly, making an obvious attempt at changing the subject. Harry looked away from him, allowing it. "I personally think I've heard enough. All who vote guilty?" everyone raised their hands. "All who vote not guilty?" Not a single hand raised. "Well, Mr. Potter, you are sentenced dementor's kiss. May God have mercy on your soul, for the dementors will not." Harry almost rolled his eyes. 'Didn't I already say guilty? Why would they need a vote if I admitted my 'crimes'?'

The chains to the chair wrapped around him almost reluctantly, the cold metal links looping themselves through his handcuffs and around his legs, and pulling them taunt against the armrests and chair legs. He felt the familiar cold before he saw them, their black cloaked figures appearing in his peripheral vision like death falling on swift wings. Instead of fear though, all he felt was a bland sense of curiosity. Would the dementors devour his soul, leave him an empty husk? They'd stopped bothering him in Azkaban after he locked away his emotions; could they even reach his soul? 'I guess I'll find out.' He mused mildly. He could hear them communicating in whispery hisses as they swept around to the front of his chair. Due to the fact that he could speak parseltongue, he could understand little bits and pieces of their speech, but only a word every now and then.

One of them leaned closer, breathing in deeply in an attempt to taste some of the fear that it knew would be imminent. However, it felt none of the fear that it was used to, only curiosity and a deep, deep well of nothingness. The mortal didn't feel like the usual prey. It felt almost like…predator.

Harry knew nothing of the dementor's dilemma, and just leaned closer, peering curiously under its hood.

The dementor drew back as the mortal came forward. The dementor was confused, and perhaps a little bit fearful. Its companion turned to it, hissing lowly. "What…wrong?" It just shook its head and drifted back further from the human. It would not take the soul from this mortal, from this…this prey turned predator.

The other dementor glanced at its cowardly comrade almost scornfully before gliding forward and descending upon the mortal itself. However, instead of emotions and energy, it only felt an odd, uncomfortable, pulling sensation. It pushed through, ignoring the overwhelming wrongness of the feeling, but the sensation grew and grew until it couldn't be ignored any longer. The dementor tried to pull back, but the tug became stronger. Stronger, stronger, stronger still, until suddenly, it was the dementor's soul that was transferred to Harry.

Harry gasped, his head tilted back, in ecstasy or agony he couldn't quite tell, the aura of the tainted soul filling him with a wicked power. His eyes were wide open, the usual emerald darkened to black, and a silent scream escaped his throat. He could feel the corrupt power eroding his barriers, powering through them with nary a pause. It could've lasted for mere seconds, or perhaps millennia, but when it was over, something in him had changed. Something had broken, something he instinctively knew he could never get back. He suddenly slumped, collapsing like a puppet without strings.

The court had watched the gruesome show with a combination of terror and cowardly, vindictive pleasure. The court room was deathly silent for a few moments, none daring to move, and barely to breathe, to avoid disturbing the unnatural silence. Many of the Wizengamot breathed a sigh of relief, believing their problems were over, until the root of their problems sat up like nothing had occurred.

"What…what on earth just happened?" Fudge burst out, his face both pale with fear and red form blustering anger. Harry tilted his head questioningly, his blank eyes, back to their normal shade, shining with lifeless amusement. "I have no idea what you're talking about." He stated innocently. "Don't lie Potter, this is one of your tricks, I just know it!" he turned to the remaining dementor and ordered, "Consume his soul!" It stared back at him before drifting out of the court room. Fudge turned puce. "I will not have this disobedience! This is my ministry! I am the minister of magic! You will obey me!" Harry stared blankly at him, unimpressed. "That is the last straw!" Fudge exploded, throwing his gavel at Harry angrily. He just yawned and tilted his head slightly to the side, allowing it to pass by. "I've had it with you Mr. Potter. I sentence you to the veil!" He exclaimed, most of the court nodding and murmuring in agreement.

Harry gave into the urge and rolled his eyes, relaxing into the chair as the chains released him. "Stupefy!" He heard from behind him, but he allowed himself to be hit, knowing that it was standard process for those sentenced to the veil to be knocked unconscious so that they couldn't find their way back out. Not that he planned on trying, but still.

When he was enerverated, he found himself in the death chamber, deep within the department of mysteries. The room with the whispering veil. The room he lost Sirius in. And he couldn't bring himself to care, couldn't find it in himself to honor the man who sacrificed himself to save him with even shred of emotion. He found that he was lying on the slightly raised pedestal where the veil was, and glanced around to find himself surrounded by aurors, the Minister and his groupies nowhere in sight. 'Right. No chance of escape then. Tch.' He mentally scoffed, comparing himself to the aurors around him. 'The one on the left has too tight of a grip on his wand, not flexible enough. The one on the right's too loose, it could easily be knocked from his hand. Could I escape? Perhaps, in fact most likely. Will I? Might be a bit of a challenge?...nah.' He stood up, wincing minutely at the sudden pain in his left leg. 'I bet they threw me over here. Cowardly bastards.'

"Well Mr. Potter, we certainly won't be seeing you again. When you get to hell, say hello to Voldemort for me." said the auror who'd lead him from Azkaban. Harry just gave him another blank look before turning to stare at the veil. Its curtains blew and twirled gracefully in a nonexistent wind, and he could hear voices from somewhere inside it. He took one last glance around him and, ignoring the calls of the aurors around him to hurry up, walked confidently through the veil, it swallowing him whole and making for a very eerie sight from the other side of the veil. But Harry could care less about that, as he had other priorities.

He walked lightly on the balls of his feet, ignoring the slight pain in his leg as he'd had worse, his steps not making a sound in this silent world of white. His breaths were deep yet quiet, and, though he may have looked relaxed, he was ready to leap into action without a moment's hesitation. After a few moments, he paused in his walking and turned slowly in a circle as he observed his surroundings, and all he could see was white, the doorway to the veil having vanished behind him. Well, almost all white. 'White...white...white...white...black...white...wait, black?' He turned back in the direction of the black, and, making a split second decision, began walking towards it. 'I don't see any other choice...unless this is my personal hell. Walking forever in a blank world of white and silence...sounds like ultimate boredom.'

As he got closer, his walking slowed, and his body got tenser. When he was a few yards away from the now identifiable figure, he stopped, his body tense as a spring and ready to explode into motion. For who should his emerald eyes behold but death. Death sitting at a white table. Death sitting at a white table somehow managing to give him an unimpressed look and seem bored without a face, though how he managed that Harry would never know. They stared at each other in silence for a few moments before death suddenly spoke.

"I don't bite you know." Death turned its back to him and focused its attention on the white table in front of it. "Come, sit." it said without turning towards him. Harry cautiously walked around the table to sit at the seat across from Death, and felt a flicker of surprise and confusion when a chess board appeared between them. Death, as the black side of the board, gestured for him to go first, and he moved to do so. As he picked it up to move it, he noticed that it was a person, his face twisted in agony. He stared at it a moment before setting it down two spaces in front of where it had sat previously, his flat expression remaining unchanged. The two sat quietly for a moment, the silence broken only by the soft sound of pieces touching the board, before Harry decided to speak.

"So, what is this place? And where are we? This seems similar to the place where I met Dumbledore after I died, but it doesn't conform to my wishes as that place did." He said, moving his knight to capture one of death's pawns, which screamed before fading and disappearing. Death glanced at him before turning its attention back to the board and answering his question. "Well, to almost anyone other than you, this is a direct path to the afterlife." Death said, waving his hand to gesture to the expanse of white around them. "If someone is sent through the veil, I generally come here to meet them, and then I send them where they deserve to go. Think of this as a physical version of Avada Kedavra, or a bullet to the head. Instant death. However," here he paused to turn his faceless hood to stare at Harry. "You are different." Harry tilted his head to the left with a raised eyebrow in a silent question, Death's facelessness not unnerving him in the least.

"You are the master of death, therefore this place holds a different fate for you, if you so choose." Death said before looking away, allowing Harry process this new information. "I thought that I had forsaken that title when I let the resurrection stone go." Harry said slowly, quizzically. "Just because you do not have it directly in your possession does not make it any less yours, as no one has come across it and claimed it as theirs." Death replied, his answer making Harry nod his head in understanding. "So, how does this affect my trip into the afterlife? You said that I have another option, a different fate?" Harry asked, moving his queen, who looked like a tormented angel, to capture a rook, making death nod approvingly.

"Well, before I tell you that, let me ask you this; do you believe in alternate universes?" Harry automatically went to shake his head no before pausing to think about it. "Well, just because no one has ever gone to one doesn't mean that they can't exist." He said quietly, mostly talking to himself. "And I somehow doubt you would bring this up if it didn't have any relevance." He continued, causing death to release a cold chuckle.

"This is a doorway, my doorway in fact, to different universes. As death, I have access to all of the multiple universes in order to collect the dead from all of them. Understood?" Harry nodded his understanding, gesturing for death to continue. "As master of death, you have a choice. You can either go on directly to the afterlife, you can continue your life on in one of these alternate universes, or you can go back to your own." Death said, moving one of his pawns to the other side of the board and changing it to a queen. Harry used his rook to capture it, putting death's king in check. "If I go to another of these worlds, what will be awaiting me there?" Harry asked as death moved his king to get it out of check. His decision was practically already made, but he needed more information before decided to spontaneously go into a new world.

Death made a shrug-like motion before responding, "It depends on which world you go to. However, almost all other worlds have some form of magic, so almost wherever you go, you would not be too much of an anomaly." 'So no taking over a universe with my magic. There goes that plan.' Harry thought dryly. "Know this," Death stated seriously, drawing Harry's attention from his inner thoughts. "Once you leave this gateway, you must stay until you die. And once you die, you don't get another chance at life in another world. You will be sent directly to the afterlife. This is a one-time option, and once you leave this place, whatever you choose, the elder wand, resurrection stone, and invisibility cloak will not follow. As the master of death, since you have died, my artifacts are returned to me. There will be no more 'Masters of Death'."

Harry moved his bishop across the board to capture Death's remaining rook and put him back in check while he thought. "I believe," he said slowly, "that it would be in my best interest to go to another would not be beneficial for me to continue living in my universe, as they wish to kill me, and I do not wish to move on to the afterlife." "Do you not wish to see your friends and family? They are eagerly awaiting you." Death suggested, moving his king out of check before looking deep into Harry's eyes. He stared back at him coldly before flatly stating, "No.", checkmating death's king, and standing up, the chess game disappearing in a harmony of screams as the pieces dissipated.

Death stared at him for a moment, during which Harry could almost feel him searching his soul, before he stated, "Very well. An alternate universe it is." Harry could practically feel the grin in his voice. Harry saw motion out of the corner of his eye, and turned to it. Where there had previously been only white, there was now a green door. Harry walked to the side of it, and noted that there was nothing behind it. "Walk through this door, and you will find yourself in another world. I believe that this one will be perfect for you." Death tilted its head, looking at him curiously, "It seems you've already started on its path. In any case, know that after this, there is no going back." Death stated, gesturing lazily at the door. Harry looked at him blankly before saying, "Thank you," and walking towards the door. He grabbed the knob, turning it, and opened the door to see only black, a major contrast to the white world he had found himself in up till now. He stepped through without a moment's hesitation, the door behind him somehow shedding no light in in the darkness, sending himself into the unknown.

Death stayed seated in his chair for what could've been seconds or hours, an indeterminable amount of time, before he spoke, seemingly to the air, in a curious tone. "And will you follow him?" "Of course." came the response quietly, sounding as though it was carried by the wind. "I am forever loyal to him, as he was one of my first true friends." A translucent figure made its way towards the door, preparing to walk through before it closed. "One of the first to accept me for who I was." the figure closed its eyes before plastering a dreamy expression on its face and stepping through. "And, he'll need me to keep the wrackspurts away."

A/N: Yayz! Guess who the character in the last moments of the chapter was! ...if you can't guess, you fail at life, or you HAVE NOT read or watched Harry Potter. It's really easy. She's one of my favorite characters! I'll try to get the next chapter out sooner, but I make no promises. Hope you enjoyed it! The chess game and the angsty flashback both kinda...popped outta nowhere. Don't know how they came into existence. If you see any mistakes, feel free to PM me. If you just wanna chat, that's fine too! Please review!

A/N 2(12/25/2013): I hope that dementor scene wasn't as confusing as I felt it was…the pov kinda kept shifting between paragraphs, but it was hard to make that clear without lots of awkward line breaks…if there's too many complaints about it, I'll go back and change it.