Twenty: Wake me up before I change again

Previously: A marriage contract had been signed in his name without Harry knowing, and Harry is being pressured to honour it. When he calls for Lord Malfoy as his aid, Arthur Weasley refuses, but Bill agrees; taking over the Lordship when his family magic decides him a better head. The Weasley family is in utter chaos. Bill and Lucius agree, and the contract gets dispelled.

Then Harry's world goes black.

In the present Daryl and Merle have a conversation that does confuse Daryl a little bit. Theo and Daryl seem to feel the same way about people when it comes to love, and enjoying a breakfast in silence.

So ... the end to this part. I'm so excited! When I started the story in march 2021, I had no idea it would turn into this. The people that react, like, and love my story are insane, and I feel very proud of what I've produced.

For the music:
A. Becoming insane by Infected mushroom
B. Throne by Saint Mesa

Salllzy is the one that helps/helped me through it all, and after some good brainstorming, I've decided to break it up into pieces as I said before. Don't worry, this story isn't done yet! I've already written a large bulk for the second part.

Past time Upstairs from WWW (music: A)

Hadrian Peverell-Potter-Black – Master of Death – Boy-Who-Lived - found himself waking up - all groggily and like the world was a humongous fuzzball - to a crying George, a hefty angry Ron who was in a screaming match with an active duty Auror -whose head was in the floo-, Narcissa Malfoy, who was holding his hand and squeezing it softly, Draco whose lap he was lying in – and he recognized those silken dress pants anywhere, given the times he had landed with his head in Draco's lap, trying to find some energy for his life during Hogwarts-, and Charlie who seemed to pace his footsteps into the creaking, wooden floor.

Harry didn't recognise the room that he woke up in at first, seeing as he wasn't wearing his glasses. He had gotten a few pairs of new frames during the summer, but he couldn't feel them around. If he knew Draco a little bit, he should have taken them off. It took a while before he saw the illuminating lights that were home to Diagon alley as his vision became better, which meant he was in George's place above the shop. So he wasn't dead yet. Probably.

This could be heaven after all, so why not? He had the people he loved – minus Luna and Neville - around him.

His head hurt, his body seemed to be on fire, and all the nerves in his body felt like he had been held down under crucio for longer than two minutes. It burned, it cursed, and coursed through his blood. He felt the needy and heavy magic that Death had described to him in one of their conversations, run its course through his body. Keeping him alive, but also making him lose a bit of humanity in the process. Like he was decaying, but not really.

It felt like he had woken up in hell. If it wasn't for the cool hands that belonged to both Narcissa and Draco on his body, he would be screaming.

"Wh-what happened?" He asked, and it seemed that with those words the whole place descended into silence.

Ron closed the floo immediately and strode over towards 'his Lord' – his best friend - while handing him his glasses, as Fleur sent her Patronus off towards her husband, whereas Draco did the same for his father. Narcissa went through a collection of potion phials immediately and collected a pain reliever that he recognized. He had taken enough of those in a lifetime to be considered an expert.

"Severus brewed all of those," Narcissa said, but Harry was numb from the pain, and didn't know what to say or do. "Harry?" Narcissa looked at him intently. George hurried over with a glass of water, which Harry gladly accepted. He drank small sips while assisted by George, and felt a handkerchief dapping his mouth afterwards. Draco.

After that, the potion glided through his throat as a honey-coated tea, made with perfection. Harry coughed, and felt the magic of the potion take over. Then, his memories also came back. He heard Death's laugh, and just groaned. Somehow it all clicked into place.

Fuck.

He had died.

He had died and come back again.

Death had told him so, but realised what he felt was a bit different.

Fuck his Potter Luck.

Fuck it all.

"Yes, it's still me." Harry's voice croaked, too strained from the magic coursing through his body. He sighed, and looked over at Ron, who shrugged. "Ask away."

"What did I see in the mirror of Erised?" Ron let a hand stroke Harry's arm and shoulder, as he waited for an answer.

"You as Head Boy, Quidditch captain surrounded by your family." Harry smiled softly. "You only miss Head Boy."

Ron snorted and softly punched his best friend in the arm without any means to maim him. "That darn Potter Luck, ey?" Ron seemed to understand. He always did. Harry nodded and gripped Ron's hand very shortly, before he let it drop back on his abdomen where Narcissa took both his hands now.

Harry now looked up towards the group, as Draco snorted very un-Malfoy-like but did not receive a reprimand from his mother. They all seemed to be shocked at what just happened.

"He's him." Ron let a breath go that he had been holding, and Narcissa just squeezed his hand softly.

"I only have one question," Charlie looked at the younger man with wide eyes. "How on earth did you survive another killing curse? Isn't this the third time or something?"

"Fourth. Ron says I seem to forgo all rules of magic. If you want an exact answer, then I want a secrecy vow from all of you, except Ron and Draco who already know and have been keeping my secrets." He didn't add that Ron as his vassal couldn't talk about anything, and he didn't need to tell the Malfoys that Draco had sworn a family oath a few years back.

"Bill will vant to know as 'ell. 'Ould you wait on 'im?" Fleur asked softly.

"Of course, Lady Weasley." He tried to wink at her but failed miserably. She still hadn't lost her Veela-fury, and scowled softly towards him. Even though that looked beautiful on the woman, he chose wisdom and laid his head back in Draco's lap to rest. He closed his eyes and dosed off immediately.

When Charlie, Bill, and Lucius arrived at the little living area above the shop, Harry was already sitting upright, and eating some soup the newly-found Lady Weasley had made fresh for him, with some bread George had baked the day before. The Weasleys had all been trained by their mother in household charms, and it showed. Tasted like the best thing he had in days.

It felt like he had been gone for days.

Harry remembered all the extravagant meals Kreacher and he had made for Yule together – bonding over the matter -, and the Black Lord felt bad for the Elf that they would not have been eaten. He hoped Kreacher would have placed them under a preservation charm, but you could never know.

Kreacher did work for him, but he would do things entirely in his own way. He realised it was a bonkers symbiotic, just like the whole Black family was crazy in its own way. They had found their rhythm and it worked for the wizard and elf. Kreacher had had no qualms about re-bonding with him as Lord Black, and had stopped being difficult.

Suddenly it hit Harry; was he still Lord Black, and would still be bonded with him, since he technically had died or was everything ruined because of this technicality.

There was only one way to find out.

"Kreacher?" He asked tentatively. He felt the magic reach out to his household, his elves, and his inheritance, and although it felt like an eternity, it didn't take long for Kreacher to respond.

"Yes, master?" The old elf looked sceptical towards Harry but reached out with his hand. Harry understood, and showed Kreacher all his Lordship rings, which the elf touched, piece by piece.

"Master shouldn't scare Kreacher as much as he did." The Elf looked disgruntled. "I felt Master clinging onto Death-" he looked with a certain look towards Harry, that the young wizard couldn't really place, yet nobody seemed to hear it- "but not being dead, so Kreacher waited."

"I am sorry, Kreacher. I should have reached out to you earlier."

"Master should. The house is under protection, everybody else was evicted by Masters' magic. Kreacher could bring food over?" Leave it to the Elf. Harry now wondered if it was worse to be scolded by Molly Weasley, Narcissa Malfoy or Kreacher; and he didn't have a good answer.

"Please Kreacher. Including some plates and cutlery." Harry smiled softly.

"Master shouldn't worry about those things. Kreacher does that."

To prove that he did, the Elf snapped his fingers, and Harry felt the refreshing charms run over him, and felt a set of comfortable home clothing replace the stiff robes he had been wearing on that stupid night. A sweater appeared on his lap, and his house shoes were placed next to the couch he was lying on.

"I appreciate it, Kreacher. I will be home soon."

The three men, an unlikely trio, looked worse for wear when they entered the room. Bill did look more powerful, if that was even possible, as he kissed his wife lovingly, and Charlie took a seat next to George in a nonchalant way, but ready to react at the same time. Lucius and Narcissa had taken a seat around the old wooden table with mismatched chairs; a trait every Weasley household seemed to have. Harry knew that George hadn't changed anything after Fred's death.

Harry's and Kreacher's buffet had been laid out on the kitchen bar counter, and currently all George's guests were enjoying the meals that had been made. The meal lacked the warmth that it should have, since Harry's 'almost death' laid over the mood like a thick and heavy fog.

Before they could even speak, Kreacher had summoned three more plates, and levitated those in front of the new guests, who took them eagerly. Lord Malfoy had a bit more poise, but seemed just as eager to get his hands on some food as the others.

After they all had their fill, Lucius was the first to speak.

"Harry, may I?" Lucius asked as he put his cup down on the saucer.

"You may, Lucius," said Harry, his voice still hoarse from all the potions he had been fed.

The older blonde nodded, and whisked his wand out of the cane in a slow, controlled way as he took out a Pensieve that he had brought along.

"I believe seeing it would be easier. So I will show you all my memories of the arrest and trial that already have happened. Shacklebolt was ruthless – in a good way." Lucius directed the tip of his wand to his temple, and extracted a few memories to show the group.

While the blonde man did that, Harry felt Death materialising or sitting next to him. The being had chosen a look that resembled a middle-aged man, in a fitting black suit. His eyes were still the colour that Harry associated with Death; a black and endless void. It smiled towards him with that eery look that should scare Harry to death, and then it didn't.

Somehow Death always felt like an old friend, someone whom Harry had met before, and would meet so many times more.

Things would work out. It just had to. He just hoped they would believe him. If they didn't … well …

Past time Hogsmeade, potion lessons

As slow as the wizarding world could move on a daily basis, it somehow worked as fast as it did when big news like this seemed to come around. Before the trial of Dedalus Diggle had come before the full Wizengamot, it had been leaked and people were spouting their opinions. Live onto the streets where he walked, in letters that owl's delivered every day or just through the comments in the news paper and such.

Harry did not know how to feel about it all. Somehow he felt a bit indifferent about it.

From the interviews that Lucius had shown, Diggle had been under Moody's old invisibility cloak, and he had waited for the entire dinner for Harry to accept the wedding contract or kill him if he didn't. Molly, Dedalus, and Albus had arranged it that way because they all had thought that Harry would have died in the war. Dumbledore had actually counted on it. With a signed contract, Ginny would have gotten all his names, titles, and wealth. Even in death.

When he didn't, Molly and Dedalus had gone with a backup plan, and it somehow didn't anger Harry, but it made him wary. It made him feel old.

It wasn't just line theft, it was a fraud, a felony, and deceit all at once. It was a felony against not one Ancient House, but at least two, and they didn't need to know about the others.

Harry had sighed after his lengthy meeting with his advisor, and at Lucius' advice he had hired Blaise Zabini to represent him before the Wizengamot.

The Zabini's were famous for being neutral, a grey alliance that Harry with all his titles from different spectrums could use to his advantage. Harry and Blaise barely had any history, other than being in the same classroom every now and then, and the young barrister was already at work next to getting his N.E.W.T.s at Hogwarts. The Zabini name held prestige, and Blaise had been the one most Slytherins turned to if they needed a neutral councillor during his school years.

Lucius, as he had stepped in as family aid for the marriage contract ordeal, was needed as a witness, and could not represent him as he usually did during those meetings. Harry hadn't bothered to show up himself. He knew he needed to, but that could be done after his graduation.

In the end, Harry had been glad that he'd asked Blaise. His old classmate was vicious, an intelligent, and represented him perfectly. Harry was content in such a way that he had taken him on retainer afterwards, which had baffled the Slytherin. He hadn't shown it, but Harry had seen it nonetheless. He could read them better than expected.

As a result; Zabini's portfolio had gone from small cases to extensive in one fell swoop.

The number of letters, and even more marriage proposals had been multiplied after the case had hit the media. His name had been heralded, and dragged through the mud in the papers, almost in the same article. The wizarding populace was dumb. Harry dared to say it outright. So he was glad that he now had Zabini on his side as well, who would be dealing with the bigger issues, which gave Narcissa and Lucius some breathing room to be taking care of family business.

With Zabini being a Slytherin still part-time in Hogwarts, and Severus who was supplying him with his latest batch of potions; it was no surprise that the ex-spy knew exactly what was happening. He always seemed to know. Within or outside of the school.

Harry was currently waiting in the potion lab that was attached to an apothecary in Hogsmeade for the potion master to join him for his two weekly lessons that consisted of four hours. Once that would have seemed like torture, now it felt like meeting an old friend. Especially since Harry now learned from the man that once was the Half-Blood Prince, which meant more practical lessons, less hovering, and more explanations.

"Good afternoon Mr Potter." Severus walked into the lab with his usual sweeping of the cloaks. Having taught just before dinner, he was still in his teaching robes, but Harry knew from experience that he would switch his outer robe for a brewing robe halfway through the lesson. They did cover more than what was just needed for his N.E.W.T.s.

"Thank you for joining me again, Master Snape." Severus could be really old-fashioned if he felt like it, or there was business to be discussed first. Luckily Harry had been able to get the Lord Potter-Black out of Severus' system, so that it would only be Mr Potter.

"That is per our agreement, that should not come as a surprise. Although I am very fortunate that you are attending my lessons today. I would have hated to be visiting your grave, Mr Potter." He nodded curtly, and Harry laughed softly. That man never changed.

"Thank you, Severus."

"You are very welcome, Harry." Severus allowed a small smile to grace his features, before he schooled them, and spoke: "I do, however, have some sobering news."

This gathered Harry's full attention, after he had placed all his equipment on the work table.

"Please do tell, Severus." Harry looked up from his materials, as the ex-spy came towards him with a rolled-up parchment in his hands.

"It is your choice if you wish to add this to the already growing pile of evidence." He handed him the roll with a record of his findings, and Harry's stomach sank.

"I'm guessing Blaise already knows?" he asked hesitantly, as he looked over the report that Severus had just handed him.

Illegal compulsion potions, behavioural potions, love potions, compliance potions, and the last one had been a hefty dose of an illegal love potion that he luckily hadn't drunk.

The wry smile that graced the potion master's face said enough.

Oh, dear! Blaise would have a field day with that, and something in Harry had stopped caring, so he would let the man do so as he wished.

Present time Peverell manor (music: B)

"So, what's a vassal?" Daryl asked Harry.

They were sitting in Harry's office again since Merle had ventured out again, and Daryl felt like he was the only one without a designated task. He claimed to Merle that he was there fire that was always burning, but both men knew better in their own hearts.

"What?" Harry looked bewildered from a few books he had been writing in for over an hour, while rummaging through some papers or parchments as Sophia had explained to Daryl.

The days were getting colder fast and Daryl had opted for a thin sweater under his leather jacket, while Harry was wearing his office clothes as Draco had dubbed them during a dinner the night before. They were obviously wizarding clothes, although Harry's usually could pass for a non-magical. A no-mage, as Vicky called them.

The green-eyed wizard wore slacks with a dress shirt and a thick sweater. It seemed as if the man was always cold, doubling up in layers, and heating charms while the hearth would burn with the weird black, magical, and warm flames that could fascinate Daryl for hours. Daryl believed it had something to do with either Harry's past or his 'not-being-able-to-die'-thing or such.

"When you told me that story a while ago, you called Ron your vassal. What does it mean?" he asked as his curiosity peaked after the conversation itself, and something he had picked up between Blaise and Draco. It had been spinning in his head for a few days, and he needed an answer. Not wanting to look dumb he hadn't dared to ask Draco or Blaise, who both could look like he was stupid. Daryl knew that Merle had a bit more brains than he did, but Daryl had skills and he wasn't afraid to ask Harry questions. Not anymore.

"You caught that, huh?" The wizard laid his fountain pen back into the designated, wooden holder that John and Mack had gifted him with last Christmas. Before all the bullshit had happened, as Merle said. Harry had proudly shown it to him before. The wizard seemed to revel in the small stuff, while all he had around him was grandeur. Courtesy of a shitty upbringing, Daryl mused.

Harry didn't seem to be in an eloquent mood, from which he knew that the wizard had overextended himself again. He had been in the office earlier on his quest to find Harry, only to find it empty, so he guessed that Harry had had many meetings in the morning and afternoon. He had heard Merle talk about the council, but since his brother was on that, he wasn't needed.

"Yea', never heard it before." Luckily for Daryl, Harry had gotten used to the short answers, and never seemed to push him for more. It was one of the things he really liked about the man.

"Did you ask Merle yet?"

Daryl knew that Harry saw right through him, so he shrugged, and said: "that asshole doesn't need to know everything!"

Daryl loved his brother, but as of late, he had been bothering Daryl for no obvious reason. In Daryl's opinion.

"You are absolutely right. He doesn't. Although he loves to know everything." Harry smiled that rare smile, that could and did stupid things to Daryl, and he tried to hide his face by looking in another direction.

Harry smiled a smaller smile now, and took a sip of water from the nearest tray with finger food and beverages.

"He always did and always will."

"A vassal officially is a holder of land by feudal tenure on conditions of homage or allegiance." Harry droned on with a soft smile. "It could mean that a person is under the protection of a feudal lord to whom he has vowed homage and fealty."

"Did ya swallow a dictionary?" Daryl started laughing at his own joke, and Harry just made an annoyed sound.

"I certainly feel like it sometimes with all the legislation, and paperwork I've been through. I always thought that Draco was being an arse, but learning all this bullshit is a daily task indeed. It makes you see things differently."

Harry snorted, and took another sip of a different coloured glass that seemed to be holding some sort of alcohol or potion. He seemed to wash it away with water. Daryl would get confused by Harry; who was always drinking at least two different beverages at a time.

"In normal words, it means that Ron has sworn his life and service to me and expects my protection and my aid, commitment, and dedication to him and his offspring for as long as I shall live."

"Which is a long facking time?" The words had left his mouth involuntarily, but Harry just flipped him off with his middle finger – not a gesture he was used to from the normally very poised man - with a wry smile. "So like knights and kings?"

Daryl now stood before the hearth, with his back towards Harry, as Harry seemed to remember something and scribbled a note on a small piece of paper. He took the time to observe and examine the coat of arms above it. Probably the Peverells, since the mansion literally was named for it.

"Sort of, only with magic and some decisions that have consequences." Harry chuckled. "Since when are you being so academic? I spotted you reading that book also."

"Just curious."

"Curiosity killed the cat, is what my aunt used to say." Harry's smile faltered a bit, but his eyes gleamed with mischief.

"I thought you couldn't die?"

Daryl only received another scathing look, and he smirked. Mission accomplished.

The human was back to reading the book that he had snatched in his young Childe's office a few days before. Although it was about woodworking, and all the different magical and non-magical trees, and had many different moving pictures and drawings, it was still a book. Every now and then the human would ask a question and his Child would answer. This seemed to satisfy the human.

It was like they were slowly dancing around each other. Both were confused, not knowing what to make of it.

Death did know. Faith and Life were annoying creatures. Gossipmongers. Death had better things to do.

A/N: I hope you liked it as much as I did. Poor Harry, he really had it rough. Let me know what you think! Part two is coming soon! And now for a little teaser for part two:

Daryl saw that as his cue, as he hesitantly let a rough finger softly caress Harry's face and cheek. He tipped his nose slowly, and then all of a sudden kissed his nose softly. It was such an intimate gesture that Harry was shocked, and was able to ignore Death's cackle for once.

Now Harry was even more afraid to move because he did not want this to end, and he stared into the abyss that was his hunter. He knew his magic had claimed the man a long time ago, but how would you explain that to a Muggle or in Daryl's case: a Muggle-raised squib?

Would he ever be able explain? Would Daryl accept such a thing?