Disclaimer: I'm too young to be Rowling so there is sadly no way Harry Potter is mine…
Placing: After the war - could be canon…
Just an idea I had, nothing more.
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SIEMPER MORTUS
(Forever Death)
sSs
"Death is forever"
x
The Summer Between Harry Potter's Fourth and Fifth Year
sSs
"Sometimes," an eerily brittle voice said softly. "I wonder if you intend to make it easy for me."
The Death Eaters around the new player in the field stopped their doings, turning away from their muggle victims to stare at their new opponent. Beneath their masks, their eyes widened in suddenly inflamed fear.
Black with blood-red splatters adorned armour, a black shadow-like cloak and a skull-like white mask adorned with a red cross – Death had come for them.
"Did you truly think that I wouldn't find you before you're done here?" Death asked, his voice implying that he was talking to unruly children who had been found with their hand still in the cookie-jar instead of the grown adults he was actually talking to.
For a moment, silence reigned the area. Then the first Death Eater started screaming in fear.
A gesture with his right hand, and Death had stopped the noise. The Death Eater gurgled and then sunk down to earth, a red flower adorning his chest.
"Red Death," one of the other Death Eaters murmured, fear in his eyes.
"Red Death!" The words were taken up by the rest of the attending crowd of Death Eaters. "Red Death!"
But what they actually meant to say was something else entirely.
They were dead.
That were the words they actually thought.
They were dead. Dead as a doornail.
One of the more courageous ones turned his wand on Red Death himself.
"I… if we do nothing, we will die within seconds!" He screamed, fear lacing his voice and stuttering. "We have at least to try and overcome him!"
At that cry, others took up their wands as well. Red Death was a fearsome opponent, but they were Death Eaters – they were supposed to spread death instead of fearing it.
In the end, they were too slow.
Red Death sidestepped their curses with ease while he pulled out an odd device – for the Death Eater's Muggle victims it looked eerily like a gun – and then took up his wand with his left hand. Death had always been left-handed.
Before the Death Eaters could even wonder if that the strange device in Red Death's right hand might be dangerous, three of them were already down, spotting beautiful red flowers, forever gone from the world after being hit with a shot of white light.
Death's blessing.
Two others meanwhile fell to curses long forgotten and lost in time. Another three were hit by other untreatable curses since the method of treatment had been long forgotten. Not one of them would ever get up again.
Then the panic finally hit. Death Eaters in the outer circle tried to apparate away, others started to shout spell-chains at Red Death in the hope of stopping him or at least slowing him down. Not one of them had the slightest bit of a chance. The curses missed. The fleeing splinched, caught in anti-apparation-like wards they hadn't put up – Death wards.
And the one who put them up?
Red Death just watched them, his eyes eerily gleaming purple in the spell-light.
The Death Eaters' attack crumbled, the Death Eaters suddenly desperate to flee while praying for their survival.
Death just laughed at them while red flowers bloomed the Death Eaters bowed to him on after another.
sSs
Voldemort would soon give up any idea of raids in the Muggle world. The Ministry might have ignored those raids and explained them away in other ways – but Red Death seemed to have taken offence and was now dedicating his time to killing every Death Eater in Death Eater robes he could find.
Voldemort simply hadn't enough Death Eaters willing to work for him to lose them in useless raids in the muggle world that accomplished nothing but chaos.
X
1982
xXx
"There has always been just one Red Death throughout history," the father told his three sons. "Just one – one and the same. He's at least a thousand years old and his knowledge of long forgotten magic just reflects that fact."
Three awed faces looked up to him at that and the father smiled at his little sons.
"Anyway, there is evidence throughout history that Red Death has some curious abilities," the father continued. "There is evidence that he was killed just to show up alive shortly after. There is evidence that he was seen at different places at the same time. Unspeakables think that he has a time-turner. Conspiracy theorists think that he can split himself into more than one person."
"How many Red Deaths have been seen at the same time?" The oldest, maybe six-year-old child asked interestedly.
"There are rumours of everything between two and nine," the father said. "The most rumours, though, speak of three." The three boys looked at each other in awe.
"But if there are three – who's the true Red Death?" One of the younger ones asked.
The father smiled at his son.
"The researcher," he said. "It's always the researcher. The pranksters are his right and left hand – but they normally aren't the true Red Death."
Then he shook his head.
"Not that it matters," he said. "Because without his hands, Red Death simply isn't complete. He needs the pranksters because they are the creative ones, he's the serious one. He can't be both, even if he tries with all his might."
At that a shadow passed over their father's face.
"So look out for each other," he warned. "You won't feel complete if you ever lose just one of you. Red Death might be a sole immortal, but he always needs three people to fully exist – not that anyone but us knows."
sSs
Growing up with the myth of Red Death definitely didn't help dark wizards when they were confronted with the real deal.
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Well, second part of the story.
I hope you liked it.
'Till next time.
Ebenbild