The Boy Who Kept Dying

Chapter 10 (Death Learns to Decorate...And Maybe Kiss Too)

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

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"How is he?" Harry asked anxiously when Death was able to visit him again at Privet Drive. "Did he find my parents? Are they all getting along?"

Death pulled Harry's desk chair over to the bed, now suddenly no longer comfortable sitting on the bed beside Harry after his surprising realization and the subsequent stern warnings from Harry's parents, friend, and godfather (as well as their blessing for once Harry was a little older). "Yes, Harry," Death smiled. "He's doing well, and they are having a grand time. I left him at tea where he and your father were regaling Cedric with stories from their marauder days. Your mother was trying to get him to eat more and take better care of himself," Death snorted. "I swear she doesn't realize they're all dead. It's not like he can die again."

Harry let out a long breath and smiled for the first time in a long time. Being best friends with Death understandably led him to have a very different perspective on the afterlife than others, but he was still mourning his godfather and not being able to see him in this life. "Did you hear about the prophecy?" Harry asked.

"No, that was what that thing wanted from the ministry, right?" Death asked. He refused to call Voldemort by his name, his real one or chosen one, not because he had any fear of it but because he believed the abomination didn't deserve a name. He lost that privilege when he gave up his humanity, and this was a judgment coming from someone who wasn't a human himself.

Harry explained the prophecy and how one of them would have to kill the other. Death just scoffed. "So?" he asked.

"What do you mean, so?" Harry felt his anger rising. "I will not become a murderer. I refuse! And, then Dumbledore goes and tells me that I have to, or Voldemort can't be stopped! And, all you can say is 'so?'"

"What I meant," Death said, moving to sit beside Harry and wrap his distraught friend in a hug. "Is that the prophesy didn't say you had to kill him, only that one of you had to die? It has obviously already been fulfilled. Unfortunately, he caused you so much pain in attempting to get it, but it means nothing now if you don't want it to."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, leaning into the hug and taking calming breaths.

"Well, the abomination has unfortunately killed you three times already, but more importantly, he killed the part of his soul that lived within you, meaning you have already killed two parts of his soul by default, the piece in you and the diary your second year."

"I call that good enough," Death shrugged, unconcerned about the bloody prophecy that caused his Harry distress.

"What about the power he knows not?" Harry asked. "Dumbledore waxed poetic on some crap about love."

Death snorted at Dumbledore's interpretation. "I'm guessing it's whatever connection the two of us have," he laughed. "I have brought you back those three times when he caused your death."

"So...your advice is to not worry about it?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Well, he's probably going to keep trying to kill you, so we do have to kind of worry about it. And, if you would like to help send a few more soul pieces to me, I'd really appreciate it. He's leaving quite a black mark on my register. However, if you don't want to kill him, then don't. I would prefer you didn't become a murderer actually. It's a bit problematic for me," Death commented, though he really didn't believe killing the abomination would actually be murder at this point. He wasn't a human anymore.

Harry finally released all the pent-up worry he carried around since Dumbledore put that weight on his shoulders. "So, I can send the rest of his soul to you, and I don't have the kill the main piece and become a murderer, and I'm still fulfilling the prophecy?"