And I darken

The Peverells part 1

The sound of chirping birds broke through the fog of Harry's mind. Slowly opening his eyes, momentarily confused when a light grey ceiling greeted his view, before groaning as flashes of several memories from the night before bombarded his head. That and the pain his body was slowly becoming aware of. He felt like he had been run over by the Hogwarts express then put up as a punching bag for the Womping Willow. Not the best feeling to wake up to.

His death and his talk with a certain immortal being, as well as his other memories from before he was brought whatever Death had thrown him, were all very clear in his mind. It's his memories from the night before that were blurry, that is if a night had actually passed since he fell asleep, because he was not sure how long he had been out.

What he did remember was being in the presence of three people, two men and a woman, and that he tried to escape before Death told him to chill and let them treat him. He would like to say that he may have imagined those words but no, those were the cloaked figure's words and Harry didn't know what to feel about that. They also mentioned that they would not hurt him, so that was a plus. But inwardly he cursed the entity for not healing his body's wounds before sending him back in order to prevent all this ordeal. Maybe they were not good with healing magic? Did they even know healing magic to begin with?

Harry's train of thoughts were abruptly put to a stop when he glanced down to his bound arm, that was now in a cast. That was not how his arm looked before coming here. He immediately jumped into a sitting position, regretting his hastiness a moment later as a flare of pain stole his breath.

Taking a few moments to gain back the breath lost; he took the blanket off him and began to take in the appearance of his body – his tiny body. Because of his living situation, Harry had never been a tall guy and he had come to terms with that, but he had gained a few inches and a bit of muscle by the time he had turned seventeen.

Too bad the room didn't seem to have a mirror on site and he was not about to make his body move looking for one. He may be used to feeling pain and may have a, kind of, high pain tolerance, but that did not mean he liked feeling it. He was not a masochist.

If he had to guess, by the look of his small hands, short legs and scrawny arms, he's wager that he looked like his twelve maybe thirteen-year-old self. Had Death de-aged him? At this point Harry was sure that it was a possibility and he didn't know if he wanted to laugh or cry. What he did know was that a certain immortal was kind of bound to him and should be able to answer some questions.

"DEATH!" he called, surprised by his voice, as it sounded like it belonged to a kid not to the seventeen-year-old man he was. Not a second later the very being he wanted to speak with made an appearance in the middle of the room a few feet in front of the bed Harry was currently in, without his scythe. The summoned entity took a look around the room, hooded head nodding in an approving manner before taking his hood of, revealing a pale and handsome face with a pair of obsidian eyes, and turning to face his little master.

"You called?"

The green eyes wizard stared in momentary shock before snapping himself out it and getting to the reason why he called...him he supposed, "Care to explain how did I end up here and why do I look tiny?" because he felt he was on the verge of an emotional breakdown and the only thing keeping him calm was probably the cocktail of potions that he had been given, or the fact that he could not exactly lash out at the Grim reaper without getting hexed for it. Maybe a bit of both.

Death stared at him as if he had just said he was a pink chihuahua, "You got yourself killed and I got called to do damage control" he stated dryly "And because you are a kid again"

Harry gave the ancient man an unimpressed glare, "I was referring as to why am I in a bed, covered in so many bandages that I look like a mummy, potioned to the gills and in a strange room inside a strange house? Also" he added "What do you mean I'm a kid again? Why?!" Harry knew he sounded hysterical, but he believed that it was justified.