The Boy Who Kept Dying

Chapter 8 (Wherein Death experiences a panic attack)

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

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"I didn't put my name in the bloody cup!" Harry exclaimed as soon as Death appeared on Harry's bed the night after the Triwizard Tournament champions were selected.

"Of course, you didn't," Death responded, confused. "Who in Hecate's name thought you did?"

"Everyone!" Harry exclaimed, completely frustrated. "Ron, Dumbledore, Snape...everyone!"

"They're idiots, and I'll haunt their nightmares if you ask me to," Death said ominously, and obviously more than serious. It was a simple decision; if Harry asked, he'd be more than happy to cause the worst nightmares any of them had ever experienced.

Harry ignored him as he leaned against the headboard. "I just won't compete...that's right. They can't make me. Maybe I can transfer to a different school..."

Death hissed, remembering the Triwizard Tournaments of the past. He'd been very involved...which meant nothing good for his Harry. "You'll die. It's the idiotic contract," he seethed. Death had been keeping an eye on the school (since Harry first stepped off the train in the first year, really) especially when they announced the tournament was taking place there. Just one other thing to bring Death to the school in an official capacity. It didn't shock Death that somehow Harry found himself having to compete. It was just the way things were with the boy that seemed to attract danger.

"Wouldn't be too bad," Harry grumbled petulantly.

"We are not talking about this again," Death sighed and rolled his eyes. It was a recurring argument with them. "You will compete, and you will do well. I'll help you and be in the audience for every task."

"Really?!" Harry asked, sitting up and looking at his friend in disbelief. "You would actually come to the tasks? Like a normal human person?"

"Of course," Death scoffed. "I'll probably have to take some poor soul on anyway, it's just expedient to already be on hand. And, I spent a long time coming up with this form," he motioned to the look he always wore around the mortals when he was trying to put them at ease. "I might as well get some use out of it."

"That's the spirit!" Harry made fun of him. "Want to borrow my invisibility cloak just in case people decide to talk to you and it gets uncomfortable?"

Death rolled his eyes. "First of all, I'm not completely in-adept at social interaction. I talk to you all the time anyway. Secondly, I'm Death, why in the world would you think I'd need an invisibility cloak?"

"It's a good cloak," Harry shrugged but was a little putout. "I've never seen you around other people, and I've always been able to see you, so don't look at me like it was a stupid question. Besides, it's always you who says that people tend to scream and run rather than sit down for a nice chat."

Death gave him a fond glare. "I'll just hide in the back like I'm sure your godfather will be doing as well. I'll tone down my aura in case anyone sees me, but I don't plan on being there invisible. I can't really step in to influence things, but I would like to hopefully be a comforting presence for you."

"Feel free to scare any of the judges. I'm still a little sore about the whole competing thing."

"Maybe I'll bring Fluffy along with me," Death mused with a mischievous grin.

"Hagrid would love to see him again," Harry smiled. "He might cause some panic though...not that I'm super against that."

Death just shrugged. That had been the point.