Spinning Wheels Of Death
Chapter One
The Moment of Truth
The Forbidden Forest was eerily silent, the usual night sounds dulled in the presence of so much magic and fate woven into the very air. Harry walked forward, determination set in his features, though his heart pounded in his chest. He had resigned himself to this moment, to the inevitable collision of destiny and sacrifice. Voldemort stood ahead, wand poised, his followers hushed in reverence for what they assumed would be the final act of defiance against the so-called Chosen One.
The Killing Curse left Voldemort's lips, a flash of green searing through the darkness.
But Harry did not die.
Instead, he fell into a void, an endless stretch of nothingness that hummed with power. There was no pain, no sensation, just the undeniable weight of something vast and unknowable pressing in on him. And then, there was a voice.
"You are mine."
It was not a voice in the traditional sense, not something spoken or heard, but something that resonated within the very fabric of his existence. A presence loomed before him, neither light nor dark, shifting, changing, an embodiment of the unknown. It was not human, nor was it something Harry could put into words. It simply was.
Death.
"So this is it then?" Harry asked, his own voice feeling small against the enormity of what surrounded him.
Death did not answer immediately. Instead, the presence curled around him, observing, assessing, silent in its study.
"No," it finally said. "Not yet."
A pulse of something surged through Harry, an electric current that rattled the very core of his being. He gasped, feeling as though something fundamental had shifted within him, like a lock clicking into place. It was not painful, but it was overwhelming, a flood of knowledge and power that was just out of reach.
"What did you do?" he managed, staggering back, though there was no ground beneath him.
"I did nothing," Death said, its voice neither cruel nor kind, simply factual. "You claimed what was always meant to be yours."
Harry frowned, trying to make sense of the words, but the world was already shifting again. The void trembled, collapsing inward, and before he could grasp onto anything, he was falling.
And then he woke up.
The forest was cold against his back, the sounds of battle distant yet urgent. He was alive. But something was different.
He could feel it.
The world had changed.
And so had he.
Then came the voice.
"You are not done yet"