AN: I do not own Harry Potter.

Also, there is a solution. It might make people mad, but I hope that it clears some confusion.

Seventh Year Starting

"My dear boy, why did you have that book? It's not the nicest of books to be reading."

Harry winced. His relationship with Headmaster Dumbledore had somewhat smoothed for now, since the Dark Lord was dead. The Headmaster was under the impression that the Dark Lord was dead, therefore there was no longer any use for Harry to be studying anything of the Darker sort. Harry had tried to live with it, but he wondered how long this could continue. It had been an uneasy truce through his sixth year, but now it was the middle of the first term coming back into seventh year and the Headmaster had been keeping an especially close eye on him this year. He just wished the Headmaster was his only stalker.

"I was wondering if reading it could help me understand the blood ward that I was under? You know the one that my Mom made."

"Fine. However, Voldemort is dead, boy. You don't need to know that anymore," said Dumbledore, peering over his half-moon glasses.

"I'm just curious, sir."

Harry shrugged. It was true he was curious, but Death had egged on his curiosity. Death was stalking him too, but unfortunately for Harry, he survived mostly by curious and learning, thus fulfilling his curiosity and surviving the latest death threat at the same time. That just created an ingrained response, a vicious circle, just like Harry's foray into portkeys last year.

"Do you have any idea how the scrolls and books that I know that you didn't or couldn't take from my office for the last months have been getting to you?"

Oh, boy. Could he do this without getting Death into this? Not really.

"I didn't know he was getting them from you, sir."

"Harry?"

"It was Death."

Silence.

The Headmaster was stumped apparently, because he sat with his head bowed, forehead resting on his hand, with his eyebrows furrowed.

Harry didn't blame him. He at first didn't believe that the literal god of Death was following him around while simultaneously doing his work either.

"Harry, did Death explain why he was following you?"

"The prophecy."

"It's not going to end the way I thought, is it?" muttered the Headmaster. He suddenly appeared more powerful and stern, and Harry felt all of a sudden that he was in trouble.

"Do you want to see my parents about it, sir?"

"How am I ..."

Harry interrupted the Headmaster by raising his hand and spinning the ring on it three times, after which two smoky figures formed between the two of them.

James and Lily Potter hovered there, obviously standing between Harry and the Headmaster in a stance of defensiveness.

"James and Lily? Are you really... here?"

"Yes, Headmaster, we are real."

"Who was the one of the four Marauders that wasn't trusted in the War?"

"Remus, sadly, as he's ended up being the most trustworthy," sighed James.

"Has Death shared things with you regarding Harry?"

"Yes, but we can't say much."

"Is Harry going to be a danger to the school?"

"To the school? No," said Lily, looking as if the question insulted her.

"Can Harry's connection to Death be severed?"

"No. It's for life. Look, you aren't to do anything adverse to Harry and his rest of this time in the school. You are still in charge of many students here, and one person's prophecy meaning something other than what you assumed is not grounds for not allowing him time to do school, be in class, and in general have fun with his friends."

The Headmaster looked saddened, before saying, "Thank you, James, and Lily. You may leave now."

James and Lily looked back at Harry and said, "Goodbye. Harry, just spin the stone again, and we can leave."

Harry did so, looking sad as his parents disappeared from the room.

"Harry, I hope you know that death magic is not to be practiced in this school."

"I'll do my best, sir. May I leave now?"

The Headmaster nodded his head, waved his hand, and the door opened.

Harry dashed out without any other word.

The Headmaster was pensive about that conversation. He thought it over and over in his mind. The connection with Death, the lack of awe when conversing with the spirits of his dead parents, the books Death was bringing him, and the curiosity into blood magic were all things that he couldn't ignore. He had tried to see Harry as just a traumatized young man last year, but there had been something off. Sure, he could take the hesitancy to be about him as part of him trying to kill him two years ago, but Harry had forgiven him that, right? How could Harry have even tried to have the discussions last year and the year before if he hadn't been forgiven? Now, Death was dropping books off to Harry? Wait a minute, necromancers were known as Children of Death. Death had spoken to Harry, and who else would Death speak to but his children? Mind you, now that he knew that the dead were close to Harry, it limited what he could do in the school to end this threat. Especially since, it seemed that Death talked to Harry's parents as well. Was Harry doomed from birth? Were the Potters, and Lily Evans herself, unknown and unthreatening threats to the greater good themselves? Was Severus Snape's friendship what doomed her? Not entirely, as the man had turned back from the dark himself, though he thought that was Lily's influence. The Headmaster pondered.

The rest of seventh year was a tough one for Harry. Yes, he hung out with both groups with friends, as they didn't really blend because of differing opinions in favorite activities, appreciation of humour, childhood friends, etc. Not only was he reading what Death brought him, he was also occasionally taking notes or looking for any kind of royalty in the really old history books. Cedric was looking in the law books. He was cramming his head full, and Quidditch became a neccessity to just do something that didn't have to do with memorizing information, at least not in the same way.

The Headmaster was stalking him. Yes, Harry had seen quite a bit of the school years from Albus Dumbledore's perspective in fifth year, but he hadn't recognized how much stalking had to be completed to gather that amount of data. It was a little bit creepy, to be honest. Thankfully, he hadn't really done anything besides look sadly or angrily at Harry.