The Boy Who Kept Dying

Chapter 9 (In which Death has a realization)

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

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That night was the first of many where Harry had trouble sleeping. Between the visions, he received from the abomination now that he was returned and his own nightmares, Death spent most nights checking on Harry at some point. He didn't have anyone at his relatives. They were at least less violent now that they were concerned a wizard would find out what they did to Harry, but they still would never be kind or supportive to him. Needless to say, they were at the very top of Death's "List."

And then, it happened again. He had warned the dementors, but they stubbornly didn't listen and instead pledged support to the abomination. In Death's mind, this was treason of the utmost severity against himself and against even the dementors' nature. Two of them went after his Harry on Voldemort's orders, and Death joined Harry on their normal bench in Kings Cross Station with an angry cloud around him.

"Why did they kill me instead of taking my soul?" Harry shuddered at the memory. He had been too busy trying to save his very unhelpful cousin, and they were on him before he could conjure a patronus. "I saw them try, they really did, but instead of my soul, they sucked the life out of me."

Death sighed and ran his hand through his hair. "It would seem that your soul is bonded to me in some form or fashion. They can't take your soul because it's already claimed."

"What is a soul bond? It sounds like a marriage?" Harry tilted his head, confused. He wasn't upset about it, but it sounded like something he really should know about.

"I'll have to do some research. I'm not exactly sure, and I don't like not knowing things," Death grumbled irritably. "I've been around since the beginning of time, but every time I interact with you, I feel like I know nothing and am little more than a child. Fate told me something a long time ago...by chance, have you ever heard of the Deathly Hallows?" He asked, studying the teen beside him.

"No...why?" Harry asked, even more confused.

"It's probably nothing, especially if you haven't heard of them before," Death mused with an exasperated look. "I'll ask around and try to find out what's happening. Don't worry about it right now though; you've had enough to worry about for a lifetime. I can handle this one."

Harry was silent for a while. "Am I going to get to see my parents this time?"

Death sighed yet again. He just wasn't sure what to do with his Harry. It seemed he was fated to die, but Death just couldn't see him stop growing and maturing yet. He wanted to see how the boy would change as he got older and see him find happiness among the living. He'd never felt that someone should have the chance to live more than he did with his Harry. "Not this time."

"Tell them I said 'hi' then and that I miss them and love them, ok?" Harry said with a resigned nod.

"Of course," Death said, reaching out a hand to his friend. "You're returning to the same place I took you from, so you'll need to cast a patronus as soon as you get back. Can you do that? Do you have a happy memory?"

Harry smiled. He remembered the first time Death called him to love. That was always his happy memory. "I'm good," he said confidently as they crossed over to the land of the living once again.

"Is there a reason why all the dementors seem to have disappeared?" Harry asked Death from where they were sitting in the library in Grimmauld Place late one night after his trial. "They mentioned it at the hearing. Everyone has been concerned that they've just...gone."

"Let's just say they are in time out and leave it at that," Death said darkly from where he was sprawled in the armchair in front of the fire, looking for all the world like he belonged there and wasn't an immortal deity masquerading as a human. "They might be there for forever if they don't learn to respect their true master and do some very intensive groveling."