Chapter 7 (Wherein dementors go on Death's list)

5K 214 21
                                    

A/N: Not my story! Original avalible on ao3

--------------------------------------------------------

"So, the Divination professor predicted my death today," Harry laughed as he pulled a tile. They were playing Mahjong on an evening when Harry was just settling into this third year after an eventful summer at the Dursleys and then the Burrow.

Death snorted. "She's probably right," he agreed. "Your teacups and crystal balls and tarot cards and whatever will always have symbols of mine in them though. Even those who've had near-death experiences and returned retain some of the essence of death. Since you have crossed over and returned, I would assume you have my mark on you. Get used to any seer, real or a quack, telling you that you'll die soon. Do please try to stay alive this year though."

"Hey, I didn't die last year," Harry said with fake indignation. "What does it mean that I have your mark?"

"Not dying for a year isn't normally something to boast about," Death said with a smirk. "As for my mark, I don't know. You're the only one that I've ever brought back. You've always been able to see the thestrals, right?"

"Yeah, it was a shock, but you prepared me for it, so I pretended I couldn't see them so people wouldn't ask questions."

"I would guess that other creatures that are within my realm will have varying reactions to you," Death considered while he waited on Harry to make the next move in their game.

"What are some of the other creatures that identify with your realm?"

"Well, phoenixes are of my realm, and Fawkes has taken quite the interest in you. Also, dementors, though their reaction is not pleasing to me at all. Them being attracted to you is not a good thing. Erm, ravens, owls, grims, frankly there's a lot."

"Yeah, I guess I'll never be normal," Harry laughed. "Normal's overrated though, right Dis?"

"I think you want to die," Death said quietly, bringing up the subject again that had bothered him since Harry was seven. He wondered frequently if he'd done the right thing in bringing Harry back to the living when he had already crossed over. He couldn't bring himself to regret it at all though.

Harry just shrugged. "I'd get to stay with you," he said without elaboration.

Death sighed. "I'm with you now," he said in a pained tone. "I want..."

"I know," Harry interrupted. "You want me to grow old and be happy. I'm happy with you though."

Death didn't know how to respond. He wanted Harry to decide that Ron and Hermione were more important than his old friend Dis. He wanted Harry to find someone, a nice girl or guy, and settle down. He wanted Harry to be one of the people who walked into the other realm at peace, and not because the mortal realm was so bad, but because they had lived a good and full life. He wanted Harry to forget about him, but he also desperately wanted, so much that it physically hurt him, for Harry to never forget about him and stay with him always.

"Just be careful, ok?" Death said softly, not being able, or knowing how to say any of the things he was thinking.

"Yeah, yeah, 150 and 30 grandkids, I got it," Harry said with a snort.

"Dis?" Harry asked a few months later, not quite being able to meet his friend's eye. "Can I ask you something? I'm not sure if it's against the rules."

Death just raised an eyebrow. "All the rules kind of went out the window with you, kid," he said simply. "What is it?"

Harry paused for a minute, trying to figure out how best to phrase his question. "How are my parents?" he asked. "Every time I'm around the dementors, I hear them die. I was just wondering, how are they now? Are they happy?"

Death was already irate at the dementors being around the school. He had no personal feelings about the creatures even though they were from his realm, but when they hurt his Harry, they were on his bad list. He didn't know Harry heard his parents when they were around though. "Your mother was pissed when I went back to get you originally. She wanted you to live. That one is a force of nature," Death answered in good humor, remembering the redheaded woman's ire well.

Harry smiled at the description of his mother. "Anyway," Death continued. "I kept sending you back, so the both of them are probably my biggest supporters right now. Your mum keeps giving me this weird knowing look though. I don't know what to make of it. Your dad is still awkward around me, but your mum actually hugged me the last time I sent you back. It was very uncomfortable. I don't know what to do with two of you mortals hugging me now."

"So...you hang out with them a lot?" Harry asked, fascinated and kicking himself for never asking before. He was also having a blast picturing his mother hugging his awkward friend. He knew that Death was old...literally as old as dirt, but the man knew so little about human emotions and interactions that he seemed so young, younger than Harry even sometimes. Harry could picture his mother hopefully taking on the deity as a sort-of son.

"I didn't use to," Death explained. "Your parents were just there like everyone else in the other realm, which I definitely can't talk about, so don't ask. When I kept sending you back, I would go and tell them. Then, I just kept them updated on how you were doing since they asked. Now, we have tea. Your mum is happy you're friends with Ron and Hermione, and your dad gets a kick out of all the mischief you get up to with his old invisibility cloak. I don't think I share his opinion on the matter though."

Harry had a weird expression on his face. Death was very confused. "You...have...tea...with my parents...in the afterlife," Harry broke down laughing.

"It's not funny," Death grumbled as he looked on fondly at the boy rolling around in laughter in front of him.

"That's the third one!" Death raged in Harry's empty dorm room while Harry packed. He had shown up in the middle of the day, weirdly, when the rest of Harry's dormmates were out and getting ready to head back to their homes.

"The third what?" Harry asked confused.

"The third DADA professor to try to harm and/or kill you!" Death shouted in anger.

Harry looked at him, still confused. "But...Professor Lupin likes me," Harry responded.

"He still tried to kill you!" Death said, dramatically flopping on Harry's bed. Yes, Death flopped.

"It was an accident though," Harry explained, sitting beside him. "He was actually a good teacher, unlike the others."

"He's still on my list for words once he dies," Death definitely didn't pout. Immortal deities didn't pout, no matter what Harry said.

"You know, you could just show up and start yelling at some of these people before they die," Harry laughed. "You'd probably give them a heart attack and move it on quicker."

"Don't give me any ideas," Death warned. "By the way, I've put the dementors on notice. They're not to bother you again. If they do, they'll answer directly to me."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you! I never want to see another dementor again!"

The Boy Who Kept DyingWhere stories live. Discover now