For whom the bell tolls.

Summary: Loki's plans have once again been foiled by the Avengers and SHIELD and he's had enough of their interruption, thank you very much! In a last-ditch effort to defeat his hated brother, Thor, and his allies, Loki decides to summon the one being that he truly believes has the power to finally end the Avengers: Death. But as Loki and the Avengers soon discover, death does not enjoy being summoned, and there is a price to pay for gaining his attention.

Harry Potter/ Marvel Crossover.

XXXX

Death, once known as Harry Potter, sat alone in his chambers contemplating; the room he sat in was pitch black, like his throne, so that it appeared that he was squatting on thin air. Still, the most noticeable thing was the quiet. It was claustrophobic and completely silent, making the chamber far more intimidating than intended. Still, it was made for only one occupant, and its chosen enjoyed the stillness. It had been eons since his defeat of Voldemort, and Harry's prison sentence began; at least, it felt like eons to Harry.

Time had no place in his prison, and it was here that Harry had chosen to remain once it became apparent what had been done to him, of how the previous incarnation of Death had tricked him into becoming what he was. Harry had done what no one else had done in millennia; he had reunited the three Deathly Hallows and become the Master of Death. Unfortunately, what no one had known, not even Harry's research-obsessed best friend, Hermione Granger, was that whoever united them didn't become the Master of Death, but instead became the new personification of it. Forced to bear the title, ferry souls to where they belong, and guard the gates of the dead to ensure that souls remained across the river where they belonged until someone else united the three Deathly Hallows and set the previous incarnation free.

When the previous incarnation had told Harry of what his life would be like from now on, laughing as it did so, at its 'freedom,' Harry had been horrified; horrified and enraged that despite all the pain and struggle he had faced, he was still being forced to endure still more. The previous 'Death' had told Harry that he would live forever as the new Death until someone took possession of the Deathly Hollows anew. Only then would Harry be free and allowed to cross the river and join his loved ones.

The salt in the wound came when the previous Death told Harry that he couldn't trick the Hallows either by just randomly giving them to someone; the Hallows seemed to have an intelligence of their own and would recognize such deception. Harry had raged at the injustice of it all and demanded that 'Death' take its Hallows back, but that had just made 'Death' laugh, much to Harry's confusion.

"The Hallows are not mine, stupid boy," Death had hissed, "Nor did they belong to the Death before me. I simply 'gifted' them to the three foolish brothers who thought themselves more powerful than me. Just as you will one day 'gift' them to the world, hoping that one day someone unites them and sets you free."

"Then who do they belong to?"

"No one knows," Death replied, "Only that they are a trap, not a gift. And the only way to free yourself is by trapping another."

"I will never do that!" Harry snarled, frowning as Death chuckled,

"I said that once, too…"

Harry could hear the despair in Death's voice, even as its features were hidden beneath its cloak, and even through the fog of rage, he could tell how sorry it was to be doing this to Harry.

A golden light then quickly consumed Death, and it issued a sigh of contentment that made Harry's heart weep before disappearing entirely and leaving Harry, once again, alone in his room.

Harry had tried to ignore his new duties for a few decades, choosing instead to enjoy the life he had won from Voldemort. Harry married Ginny Weasley, started a family, and finally got to enjoy the life he always wanted. Making himself appear to age so that no one got suspicious had taken some work, but being the new 'Death,' had come with some fantastic perks. Like, having his magical core quadruple in size and making Merlin look like a first-year student compared to Harry's power, now.

After ninety years of this, Harry knew he could no longer stay; most of his friends had since died, and his children were grown and had long since left to start their own families. When Ginny had died at the ripe old age of 156, Harry had known that his time in this world had officially come to an end; Hermione was the only one of his friends left alive, by that point, and Harry couldn't take leaving without saying goodbye to his oldest friend.

Paying one last visit to her, Harry had to bite back his heartache at seeing the old woman lying there, barely clinging on. Hermione had had a brilliant career in her long life; following the fall of Voldemort, Hermione, with the aid of Harry, and Ron, had launched a campaign of change upon Magical Britain that had dragged the Magical World into the 21st century, kicking and screaming; wanting to make amends for past wrongs, Hermione had worked tirelessly to ensure goblins finally earned equal rights, which had granted the trio and all their descendants the title of "Goblin Friend in perpetuity."

Magical creatures had also received far more rights under Hermione's tenure. It was no surprise to anyone when she was voted Minister of Magic soon after she turned twenty-four, the youngest Minister in the Ministry's history. She and Ron had married a few years later and had six beautiful children, each as intelligent as their mother and each a lover of pranks, like their father. Ron, after the war, had decided to pursue his dream of playing Keeper for the Chudley Cannons, and to the surprise of all, actually managed to make it to the Quidditch World Cup in Ron's fifth year of playing with them; they lost spectacularly Germany, but Harry and all of Ron's classmates had been there, shouting their throats out in support, all the same.

After a successful Quidditch career, Ron had followed Harry into the Auror Department. Together, the two of them became the scythe of the Ministry, cutting down any would-be Dark Lord foolish enough to attempt to cause trouble in England. There had been dozens of assassination attempts on the trio since their victory over the Death Eaters. Still, Magical Britain came down like a hammer on the ones responsible, determined to never allow the rise of a Dark Lord like Voldemort, again. And that promise had been kept for over a century; for almost 125 years, there hadn't been a Dark Lord in Britain, thanks mainly to the tireless work of the trio, whom the world had decided to immortalize with the title "The Heroes of Magic," upon Harry's 50th birthday, along with a giant statue that would forever sit in the entrance hall of the Ministry. Ron had laughed himself silly at the name, and even Hermione would blush in abject humiliation if anyone called her by the title.

As Harry sat alone in the darkness, his mind traveled unwillingly to that last encounter with his friend.

:FLASHBACK:

As Harry gazed down at the form lying in front of him, he couldn't help but take a shuddering breath as he desperately fought against the wave of despair that tore through him; Ron had passed a decade ago in his sleep, and Hermione, it seemed, was soon to follow if the Healer was to be believed. Harry felt tears run down his face as he remembered the day Ron died; it was the first time that Harry had used his new powers as 'Death' and had summoned Ron's soul so that he could say goodbye to his first friend. Now, only Hermione was left, and Harry would be all alone. "The last of the greatest generation" is what the papers were beginning to call him, and he hated that title more than he had ever hated his previous ones.

"She's gotten so old…" Harry thought sadly as he looked down at his oldest friend; her curly brown hair had turned as white as snow, and age had ripped her once beautiful features away, leaving a tired old woman in her place.

"Harry…?" Hermione whispered, bringing Harry's attention back to the present,

"Yeah, Hermione," Harry said softly, placing a warm hand atop hers as he sat beside her, "It's me."

"I can hear him…" Hermione whispered with a smile, "He's calling me home…"

"Who, Hermione?" Harry asked with a sad smile as a tear ran down his face,

"Ron, of course," Hermione smiled,

"Of course," Harry nodded, "You can't expect your husband to let you cross the river alone, can you?"

"He also told me what you are," Hermione said softly, making Harry freeze on the spot; taking another shuddered breath, Harry replied,

"He did?"

"Yes," Hermione said sadly, "And I'm so sorry that I have to leave you here all alone, Harry. I wish I could stay with you. See the things you will."

"I wish that too…" Harry choked, "Please don't leave me, Hermione… I'm Death, I can save you if you ask me to…"

Harry had offered the same thing to Ron and had all but begged his first friend to agree, but as Harry saw Hermione sadly shake her head and smile up at him, Harry knew she was about to say the same thing as Ron.

"Death is a natural part of life, Harry." Hermione sighed again, showing her amazing sagacity, "And you are Death; to subvert your own rules would bring unknowable chaos to existence as we know it."

"I don't want this!" Harry sobbed, burying his face into the blanket atop Hermione, "I never wanted this! All I've ever wanted is to be normal!"

"When have we ever gotten anything we want in this life?" Hermione laughed, as she ran a soft hand over Harry's head, "You were born to do great things, Harry, I've always known that. And now you will have millennia to do them."

"I love you, Hermione Weasley," Harry said softly, raising his head to look into her soft brown eyes one last time, knowing that it was almost time; his powers as Death told him that soon Hermione's soul would pass through him and cross to the land of the dead.

"And I love you, Harry Potter," Hermione whispered weakly, "Harry….. Will you promise me something?"

"Anything," Harry said at once,

"Promise me that throughout the millennia, no matter how hard it gets, don't stop caring about people…."

"I... I promise, Hermione," Harry replied after only a moment's hesitation, causing the old woman to smile at him one last time before her eyes grew wide, and she whispered,

"Ron…?"

Turning to see what she was looking at, Harry saw his first friend standing in the doorway, looking like he did when he was seventeen.

"Hey, Mi," Ron said with a cheeky grin, "Ready to go home? Everyone's waiting for us."

A second later, Hermione drew her last breath and slowly closed her eyes with a smile firmly on her face; as Harry watched, her soul, glowing like a miniature sun, slowly exited her body and landed next to Ron. A moment later, the soul began to shift and change as Harry watched wide-eyed until it finally took on Hermione's form as she was seventeen. Taking Ron's hand, Hermione smiled, and Harry felt tears run down his face as he watched them turn to leave,

"Please," Harry whispered, "Please don't leave…. Don't go where I can't follow…."

Turning back to look at Harry, he could see that both looked heartbroken, as though they didn't want to leave yet had no choice, and Harry felt himself openly sobbing.

"It's not forever, mate," Ron said softly, "And when your job is done, we'll be waiting to hear all about it. First rounds on me."

In that moment, all Harry wanted to do was grab onto them and make them stay with him, but he knew if he did that, it would not be right, and his friends would suffer for his selfishness; so instead, Harry took a deep shuddering breath and tried to fight through the pain in his heart.

"Count on it," Harry laughed/sobbed, watching with tears in his eyes as his friends waved one last time and stepped out of the door, disappearing the moment they passed the threshold and leaving Harry alone with the body of Hermione Weasley.

Slowly rising to his feet, Harry kissed Hermione's forehead one final time before turning and making his way out of the room; once in the hallway, Harry let his illusion slip away, leaving a seventeen-year-old standing where once was an old man. Healers rushed past him and into Hermione's room, all without noticing the teenager watching sadly, having already made up his mind.

Tomorrow night, Harry's eldest son would be coming with his family, and he would find Harry's body, having apparently died in his sleep; the illusion Harry would cast would ensure that the body would remain until put into the ground, after that it would vanish, leaving an empty coffin. Harry Potter would 'die,' and the new Death would begin his job.

XXXX

How long had it been since that day? Death no longer knew. For a time, Death had traveled the multiverse, intent on ensuring that all the other Harry Potter's throughout time and space had the life that Death never did. Death slaughtered millions of Voldemort saved his 'parents countless times, and yet as time continued to stretch, Death found his humanity leaving bit by bit as he watched entire solar systems explode into being, live out their lives, and then eventually die, all while he remained unchanged. Terrified of becoming the monster that Voldemort had become, he had finally decided to exile himself here, to this place where time and space meant nothing, all the while hating himself for breaking his promise to Hermione.

As Death sat alone in his chamber, he felt his being physically being pulled at, and he felt his eyes widen in disbelief; someone was trying to summon him! More than that, though, whoever was trying to summon him. He was actually using a spell to try and control him, the arrogance!

Slowly rising to his feet, Death latched onto the pull, determined to show its originator what happens when you try to control a being as powerful as Death.

XXXX

Loki glared hatefully at his brother; not far away, his brother's allies, the so-called 'Avengers,' were standing in ready formation to attack, and Loki felt his lip curl in a petulant sneer.

"Alright, reindeer games," Ironman said arrogantly as he raised his arm and powered up his blaster, "We can do this easy or hard, whichever you prefer. But to be honest, I'm hoping you'll say hard. You just have one of those punchable faces."

"He really does, doesn't he?" Hawkeye added with a smirk.

"Filthy mortals!" Loki snarled, rising shakily to his feet, his body still sore from his brother's last attack; ripping his horned helmet from his head, Loki angrily hurled it aside before turning back to the watching heroes, "I am a God! You are dust beneath my fingernails, and yet you have the audacity to stand in my way!"

"Gods though we may be, brother," Thor replied, "That doesn't give us the right to do that type of things you have done! And today, I will see justice upon you!"

"No, brother!" Loki snarled as he drew a large dagger from his belt and plunged it into his right hand, causing the Avengers to stare in horror, "Today is the day my rule begins!"

"What have you done, brother?" Thor demanded, hefting his hammer and preparing to throw it.

"I summon the first!" Loki snarled in reply, causing Thor's eyes to widen in horror; an instant later, a violent wind sprang out of nowhere, knocking the Avengers from their feet, "The lord of the first promise! The last enemy to be defeated!"

"Brother, stop!" Thor shouted as the winds picked up, "You must not do this!"

"What the hell is going on!" Hawkeye shouted from the nearby beam he was desperately clinging to.

"We must stop my brother before he completes the summoning!" Thor shouted,

"What is he summoning?" Captain America demanded as he used his shield as a buffer against the wind, though even he was having trouble staying on his feet.

Before Thor could answer, Loki shouted one last time, his voice filling the entire room,

"I summon you here! And demand your obedience!"

A strange amalgamation of a triangle inside a circle, with a line down the center of it, fifty feet high and made of blinding white light, suddenly exploded into existence between the Avengers and Loki.

"We're too late…" Thor whispered in horror as the wind suddenly stopped, and the room descended into an unnatural silence; quickly turning to his friends, Thor dropped to one knee and said,

"Kneel, you fools! Our only hope is to make him understand that we're not the ones who summoned him!"

"Sorry, point break, but I'm not into the whole 'kneeling thing,'" Ironman replied sarcastically, only to groan in pain when Thor grabbed him by the back of his head and forced him to the floor.

"Stark, I know that belligerence and sarcasm are as air to you, but this one time, you WILL be silent, or we will all die. Is that clear!"

Tony could do nothing but groan, but Thor took that to mean 'understood' and released his hold on the man's skull; seeing how serious Thor was being, the other Avengers slowly lowered themselves to the floor while Loki began to laugh madly.

"You've lost, brother! It took me almost two thousand years to find this summoning spell, but now that I have, nothing will ever be able to stand in my way! For I am the master of Death!"

An instant later, a cloaked figure stepped forward, and a feeling of utter dread seemed to fill the room; even Black Widow, who had faced horrors beyond imaging, suddenly felt terrified and knew that if she so much as moved without permission, she would die screaming.

As the cloaked figure took a slow look around, the Avengers suddenly felt like small animals caught in the gaze of a predator, and each said a silent prayer.

"It worked!" Loki cackled, "I can't believe it actually worked! I am the master of Death!"

"You have the hallows?" The figure asked, and each Avenger could hear the desperation in the figure's voice, causing Tony and Steve to share a look.

"What?" Loki demanded, "I don't know what those are, but I summoned you, and so I am your master! And my first command is to kill those filthy mortals!"

Turning back to the kneeling Avengers, the figure stared at them thoughtfully before its arm shot out. Loki suddenly found himself suspended off the ground with the figure's hand around his throat. Slowly turning back to face the god, Loki felt his blood freeze in his veins as he looked into the face of a man with coal black hair and burning green eyes, and such eyes they were! It was like looking into the face of eternity, and for a moment, Loki knew just how foolish he had been to try and put a leash on a being such as this.

"You DARE to command me without uniting the hallows!" Death roared, causing everyone to flinch as a thousand voices seemed to speak as one, "You dare presume to command me! Allow me to show you the error of your ways, foolish god."

Before anyone could react, Death raised its hand and touched Loki on the brow with his index finger, causing Loki to instantly begin shrieking in pain as the Avengers watched in horror; with a final sneer, Death threw Loki's body to the ground where it continued to convulse as he screamed in agony.

Turning to the still kneeling Avengers, Death stared thoughtfully for a moment as he considered what to do; it had been eons since he had last physically visited a world, and honestly, he was beginning to go mad living all alone in the dark. He wanted to talk to someone, to feel the wind on his face again; gods, how long had it been since he had a cup of tea!

"And you?" Death asked, a dozen voices mixed as one, "Were you also a part of this?"

"I swear to thee, I took no part in my brother's lunacy," Thor replied firmly, and Death nodded in satisfaction when he heard no tremor in the man's voice.

"And you don't mind that even as we speak, your brother is trapped in an illusion where he is being tortured repeatedly over the course of a thousand years?" Death asked in an amused voice, making the Avengers shudder in horror at what Loki was experiencing.

"My brother made his choice," Thor replied sadly but firmly, "And now he must deal with the consequences of that choice."

"Hmm, good answer…" Death drawled, "Just for that, I won't kill any of you."

"Thank you, my lord," Thor replied in noticeable relief; a moment later, the oppressive aura dissipated, and the Avengers slowly climbed to their feet.

As they watched with suspicious eyes, Death began to stretch and twist, groaning in pleasure as his joints popped and cracked; realizing that he was being watched, Death turned back to his audience and seemed to grow shy under their eyes, which shocked them.

"Sorry," Death said after a moment, "You won't believe how stiff you become after sitting on an ebony chair for a few millennia. Now, how about a change of clothes."

The Avengers watched in shock as Death suddenly snapped his fingers, and its black cloak fell away into nothing, leaving a young man wearing blue jeans and a black shirt; he was tall, with messy black hair that hung to his shoulders, but the thing that drew the most attention was his eyes.

They were large, dark green, and filled with so much power that it seemed to physically hurt the Avengers to look into them for too long; he had a bored expression on his face as he finished stretching.

"Alright, enough already!" Death said with a frown as he snapped his fingers, causing Loki to finally go silent as he passed out from the pain; walking over to the unconscious form, Death grabbed Loki by the hair and threw him into his brother's arms.

"Next time, he's mine," Death said coldly, "Are we clear?"

"We are, my lord," Thor replied with a nod,

"Good," Death said with a smile, "Then our business is concluded, so if you'll excuse me."

Turning to leave, Death stopped when Captain America called out to him,

"Wait! What are you going to do now?"

"I hadn't given it much thought," Death replied with a smile, "But I think I'll go on a walkabout, ta."

Spinning on his heel, Death disappeared with a pop, leaving the Avengers staring at the spot he had just stood in shock,

"So, who wants to tell Fury that the literal Grim Reaper is now walking around Earth?" Ironman asked sarcastically, causing the Avengers to look at one another in horror before crying out in unison,

"Not it!"