Harry Potter and the Aspects of Death
I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters of the Harry Potter Universe. JK Rowling owns it and receives all profits from anything derived from that universe. I receive no monetary gain from this work of fiction.
AN1: Several beta-readers have offered their services and I am going to see if I can connect with them before publishing chapters. I have several chapters plotted out and partially written already and I'll let people know if for some strange reason it doesn't work out to connect with one of the beta readers who have contacted me. My first priority is getting out a quality story; my second is to get it out while it is fresh in my head... I hate abandoned stories and pledge to finish this one at all costs.
AN2: Parts of last chapter WERE deliberately ambiguous. The form of the symbols, the voices, and the journey all have a purpose; even if that purpose is tainted by my twisted mind, or is that twisted by my tainted mind... This story will eventually dip back into the cannon verse. The Dursleys will be addressed due to, if nothing else, popular demand.
AN3: This story will lead into the cannon story, though there will be some changes in events and Harry's interactions due to Harry's noted difference of how that Halloween night played out and Harry's development at the hands of death. After all, they do say that dealing with death ages you.
AN4: Thank you to all of you who reviewed. Honestly, Reviews help me write faster and encourage me to put more effort into my writing. I noticed that 1000+ people read my story in the first three days, but I only received 12 reviews. If people don't think it is worth their time to read, then by all means let me know. If they like it and want me to continue writing it, then please let me know via a review. This isn't blackmail, I honestly want to know if I should continue writing this story; so review if you want me to continue. Thanks and best wishes to all of you!
Chapter 3: Burial After Death
I am dying, Egypt, dying. - William Shakespeare
Albus Dumbledore was a little bit angry… no, check that, Albus Dumbledore was furious, jump up and down on the sorting-hat, kick the animagus cat professor really really angry. Wild magic flew around the headmaster as he stomped around his office, his uncontrolled magic randomly transfiguring items in his office into sweet and sour muggle confections, namely, lemon-drops.
"Some days," Albus fumed to himself, "It just doesn't do to be the Greatest Dark Lord… um, I mean, the Greatest Light Lord ever." The day had been going so well, he thought. Yes, the plans had all fallen into place perfectly. A little hinting of a prophecy to an angsty death eater here, a little mind altering spells performed on weak willed rats over there, and bingo, he had the stage set to finally get that Potter brat under his control. Heck, he had even made sure that he had slipped the right potions into Sirius Black's drink at the Order meeting so that he would rush off to confront Pettigrew and set himself up to take the fall. "At least that part was a success," Albus grumbled, but then his thoughts shifted to the enormous problem with his plans, the spanner the size of the Thames that had proverbially been thrown into his works, "If only that dratted Potter boy wouldn't have disappeared!" Stomping around the room, sparks dancing off of the astrological symbols on his robes, honestly looking a bit like a sparkler at a fireworks show, Albus Dumbledore was ticked off.
Albus Dumbledore thought back over his night before, trying to figure out what went wrong.
Looking back to Halloween night, Albus had been sitting in his office with a nice bottle of Ogden's Finest, 300 year old fire-whiskey was a perfect treat for an occasion like this he had thought. Sitting, gazing at the fire and sipping the golden fire nectar, everything was going right; and when the device on his desk that monitored the wards at Godric's Hallow blew up, Albus had raised his glass to himself and the "greater good" that would come of the night. Namely, Ablus's greater good. Yes, not only would he get some good publicity, arriving just too late to rescue the Potters but just in time to play the dotting grandfather who saves the boy and rescues him, but he would have access to the Potter fortunes also. Little was known about how far back the Potter's family line extended, but there were rumors that the Potter line had extended back to Merlin and that a certain Greek member of the family had been named "Midas." Yes, the Potter's were rich and now Albus would be incredibly rich.
Taking out His Elder Wand, Albus put his hand out, trying to strike a "stunning pose" so that he would land in as grand of a stance as possible when Fawkes flamed him to the Potter's house. "Yes," he had thought, "All that time flexing and posing in the mirror really paid off." "I'm such a sexy beast" Albus thought. But, just as Albus was about to call Fawkes off his prison… um, he meant perch, his hand holding his wand hand flew up and bopped him right in the nose.
Through the tears of pain that come from getting smashed in the noggin, Dumbledore stumbled back, only to watch the Elder Wand pull out of his hand, float in the air for a second, and then disappear with a slight 'Pop'. That was only the beginning to Albus Dumbledore's really really, very very, supersized bad night.
The loss of the Elder Wand had set the tone of the Halloween night for Albus Dumbledore. Not only did he feel a significant decrease in his power and have to go back to using his original wand, 5 inches unicorn hair and rosewood with a slight reddish color (prone to shoot pink sparks and play the theme song from the care-bears*), but by the time he got to the Potter household, the action was already over, "robbing" Dumbledore of his chance to steal the glory, um… he meant rescue the Potter's heroically. After speaking with his henchman Hagrid, um, Dumbledore thought, he meant follower Hagrid, Dumbledore had rushed off to Gringotts where he used his powers to seal the Potter will and attempted to claim the fortune for himself. However the Goblins had been nonplussed by Dumbledore's actions and informed him that he could not claim the Potter fortune because Harry Potter still "existed." What really put an unbuttered scone up Albus's bumper was that the Goblins then informed him that he could not be the Magical Guardian of Harry Potter due to the Master and Apprentice Act of 1462; which still held that Masters were the Magical Guardian's of their Apprentice until such time as the Apprentice received their Mastership or left the apprenticeship. When Albus had attempted to ascertain the name and location of Harry's new Master, the Goblins had only given him a pointy toothed smile and said, "Nebulous in name and location." By Merlin he hated Goblins!
Coming back to himself after reliving his horrible past evening, Dumbledore sighed, "Oh well, I guess I'll have to go with plan B." "I hope that squib of a brat the Longbottom's bore is worth the effort." He thought to himself as he paced his office.
Stopping, and looking up with a slight smile, "Yes," Dumbledore said out loud. "Perhaps this situation can be turned for the better." "With the Longbottom's son being so weak, he will have to look to me for his protection and guidance." Smiling benevolently, or what anybody other than Dumbledore would call an 'evil smile,' his eyes twinkling with just the hint of madness, "Maybe if I can get some Death Eaters to "Randomly" torture the Longbottoms into insanity I can work the prophecy so that that Neville is the "Chosen one?" "Hmmm" Albus thought, "After all, Voldemort is an orphan. If I can make Neville one also through the use of Voldemort's minions, then perhaps this situation can be turned around and we can still have one dupe, I mean child, marked as his equal." "Yes, that would have to do!" He exclaimed out loud in glee.
Smiling to himself, Albus thought, "I guess I'll just have to work with what I've got. When life gives you lemons, I guess you just make lemon-drops." With that said Albus marched up to his fireplace, grabbed a bit of floo powder, and disappeared into the green flames. He had a very busy day ahead of himself.
As Harry Potter stepped through the doorway from Death's realm into the land of the living, he entered a time and a place much different than that of Godric's Hallow in the United Kingdom, year 1981 A.D. Stepping through the portal, his bare foot landed upon hard polished limestone which reflected the light of many dimly glowing reed candles scattered about an inner sanctum of some sort of ceremonial room.
Entering the room fully, Harry twisted his body to look at the doorway he just exited, noticing that the "doorway" seemed to be wavering from existence. As his eyes panned over the doorway, or veil, that floated in the air, he could see into the realm of death. He also noted that above and around the ethereal doorway floating green symbols that seemed to burn with a strange green fire.
Pulling up the memories that Harry had "ingested" from Voldemort's soul fragments, and the knowledge gifted from his "master" Death, he recognized the burning symbols as runes, ancient Egyptian Coptic runes. Further credence was leant to his thoughts as when he panned his head around the room he saw that the walls were covered in rows and rows of hieroglyphics and depictions of the dead being mummified and issued before a being with the head of a jackal and the body of a man. Though the walls were painted with pictures of the dead, dying, and those whose souls were being weighed upon the scales of the Gods, Harry noticed a certain sense of sterility to the place. The entire room was gleaming polished limestone, clear, clean and white.
Harry noted that this room consisted of a strange dichotomy of purity and darkness, what with the paintings of the dead, the pure white limestone, all dimly lit by slightly smoky candles that wafted with a scent of incense; staining the ceiling a bit black with the carbon from the smoke. All together it produced a mysterious air to the room, inspiring an introspection of self yet at the same time inspiring a sense of how insignificant the mortal life is in the scheme of things. Hearing a slight 'whooshing' sound behind him, Harry turned back to the doorway, only to catch the final glimpse of it flutter away, blown away on invisible winds. Immediately behind what had been the doorway that Harry had exited was a gigantic statue of some black polished stone. Now no longer hidden by the door, Harry saw that the statue was immense, but whether it was made from polished black onyx or seamless black granite, Harry didn't know.
At Harry's height, standing on the tall dais in the center of the room, his head was at the collarbone of the giant statute. Looking from the collarbone up, he was intrigued to see that rather than the head of a man, a gleaming black muzzle of a Jackal, two huge emerald eyes, looked down at him. The jackal headed statue had gold inlays around the two fist sized emerald eyes, and on its head was a headdress of the Egyptian pharaohs, made of a patterned mix of white and yellow gold.
Seeing as the dais Harry stood on was 20 feet above the rest of the room, the statute was an absolute behemoth. Its arms were the thickness of Harry's torso, and its legs the size of tree trunks. It held in its hands, by the loops, two Ankhs made of pure deep yellow gold. The statue's arms were cross over its chest as it seemed to look down and into the soul of anybody standing on the dais, and subsequently anybody who walked into the room through the entrance which was in a direct line of sight from the from the statue and over the top of the dais.
/Who are you?/ A voice shouted from behind Harry. Whipping around, Harry saw a bald headed man with a flowing open black robes walk into the room. The man's head was bald with a tattoo of an ankh on his forehead. Black eyeliner or charcoal lined his eyes and swept into curles a the side of his eyes. He was wearing a type of white and gold wrap around his waist, and his black robe split down the middle to show his bare chest. /How did you get in here! What are you doing up there?/
Harry answered back with, "Death sent me." Only, it came out as "/Anubis sent me/" in a language that Harry had never heard before let alone remembered speaking. This instinctual knowledge would take some serious getting used to. It felt to him like he was speaking in English, but now that he thought about it, he had answered back to the man in the same ancient Egyptian Coptic that Harry had been addressed in. /How I got here was through a door, death sent me, and I ended up here./
/Nonsense!/ Screamed the man, his black outlined eyes gleaming with anger, /If Anubis sent you I would know about it, it would be in the Great Book or he would tell me! I am his head priest, only I, Amotep, and the Pharaoh are allowed into this room! His inner sanctum! This is Anubis's most sacred Naos!/ He continued his rant as he marched up the steps to physically remove Harry from Anubis's ceremonial sanctum.
/HOLD!.../ Grated a huge voice, as the room shook. Both Harry and the Priest stopped in their movements, and spun to look up at the great statute of Anubis. /HOLD I say, for I am Anubis, and you will hear me Amotep!/ said the statue as it seemed to come to life. The sound of stone rubbing and turning as the statue uncrossed its arms and looked down at Harry and the high priest. Taking two huge steps forward, the statue moved right up to the edge of the raised dais. *Boom! Boom*, its steps ushering through the room, shaking the walls and the temple around them. The priest immediately fell to his knees, arms and face prostrated on the floor of the Dias, even Harry was a bit taken aback by the statue's display.
Looking down on Harry and the priest, the emeralds, once stone, took on a lucid appearance. Black pupils that swallowed the light seemed to leak up from the depth of the statue's eyes, the pupil's dilated to blacken out the center of the emeralds, and the eyes looked down at the two small figures on the dais.
/This is my pup, my pupil, my neophyte, my student, I am Anubis, and you will listen to I…/ the statue said, with its now prehensile Jackal's tongue licking its chops, which still looked like they were made of polished black stone.
/You, Amotep, Shall teach this boy, this child, this man, and his name will be known as Saba, the Jackal, for He is of me, is part of I…/ /Teach him the Great Book of the Dead… Teach him about what I have given you, how I have guided you…/ the statue stated, sounding like a cross of the first whispy voice of death and a booming bellow, all mixed with the strange sound of stone grinding on stone which issued from the Jackal's mouth movements.
/It will be as you say great Anubis, I live to serve./ The Priest said, while remaining prostrated and not raising his head.
The statue shifted its gaze from the priest and focused on Harry /Have fun … Saba… I will be watching you…/ And with a wink and a dog like grin, tongue lolling out of the face for a second in a silent laugh, the statue retreated backwards, its booming steps again shaking the foundations of the temple until it assumed its original position and went still.
With the silent laugh and wink foremost in Harry's mind, he stared at the now unmoving statute and thought, "Damn it!" "Death and its stupid sense of humor! This is most likely going to suck!"
/Come Saba, we have much to do to prepare you for your studies./ Said Amotep, interrupting Harry's introspection.
Turning from the statue, the two of them walked down the steps of the dais and towards the exit of the room; Amotep gliding along the floor next to Harry's still naked form, Amotep's flowing black robes billowed behind him like a bat. Strangely it inspired a memory that Harry had absorbed from Voldemort to flash before his mind for the briefest of seconds before Harry focused on walking beside the priest and out of the Naos. Something about grease and bad hygine. "Never mind," Harry thought to himself as he followed the priest.
/First we must take you to the barber, that mop of messy hair simply has to go./ Said the very bald High Priest of Anubis as he guided Harry out of the Naos and into the main temple of Anubis; beginning the first stage of Harry's apprenticeship training in life and death.
"Yep," Harry thought, "This is really going to suck!"