Young Master of Death

Four

A few days had passed since Harry had finally come out of his room. Ron and Hermione would go back and forth between visiting their families and staying at Grimmauld's place with Harry. Harry would sometimes go with Hermione to say hello to her parents, who were very nice to him and seemed sincerely happy to see him, which always made him smile. He still couldn't face Ron's family, though he promised himself he would soon, though he didn't know how soon, soon would be.

Things were getting better for Harry, he was starting to feel like his old self; he made sure to enjoy every moment of getting beaten by Ron at wizarding chess, Harry had yet to win even after all this time. But at times, Harry would catch himself feeling guilty for feeling happy and relaxed, as if he didn't deserve to feel at peace while others were still struggling with the after affects of the war.

Surprisingly, Malfoy would sometimes visit as well. Him and Harry didn't fight nearly as much as Harry had expected, but they still took jabs at each other every moment they got. Malfoy and Ron got along pretty well and would usually play wizarding chess together, which would almost always end to a draw. Hermione and Malfoy got along fairly well, though Malfoy still seemed to be struggling over the fact he was making friends with a muggle-born; it was because of all the foolish pure blood ideals Lucious had passed to his son, forcing ridiculous prejudice thoughts into his head, but he was making an effort to get over his long time beliefs and that was what counted.

All in all, things were looking up for the four, and Draco was relieved to escape his mothers arms whenever he could, she was too needy and worried for him, she would only end up pushing him away.

But how long can things be normal for the golden trio? The obvious answer is not for long. Harry had assumed everything was actually over, he was done fulfilling anything he needed to do, like the prophecy and taking care of Voldemort. He thought there would be no more adventures. Oh, how wrong the boy was.

It was night time when he heard the same voice he had heard a few days ago in his room, and Harry had totally forgotten about it. He thought he had been in a dream state and had imagined the whole thing. Again, the boy was wrong.

"Very good." The voice suddenly penetrated Harry's mind as he laid in bed, about to go to sleep. Harry sat up immediately, looking around before realizing he probably still wouldn't be able to find the source of the voice like last time. So it hadn't been a dream...

"You're much better than the last time we spoke, you were so pathetic looking I thought to give you a little push, looks like it worked. And no, you're not dreaming. I'm very much real, though you're the only person that can hear me." The voice seemed to read his thoughts again and Harry frowned, he didn't like his mind being invaded like that. It made him feel vulnerable and exposed, like an open book, he wasn't a fan of the feeling.

"Are you going to answer my questions now?" Harry questioned unimpressed. The voice chuckled.

"I don't see why not." Harry's eyebrows raised, he hadn't expected the voice to comply.

"Um okay...Who are you?" Harry asked after a moment of thinking. He had lots of questions, but he supposed it would be better to start from the beginning and continue from there.

"Death." The voice replied. Harry almost thought it to be joking but then realized how totally serious the voice sounded.

"Death?" Harry rasped out, horrified. "Does that mean I'm going to die soon?" The thought didn't really scare Harry as much as he thought it should; he had faced death so many times he supposed the thought just didn't faze him anymore.

"No, you misunderstand. I can communicate to you by breaking through the veil of the living world and the after-life because you are the master of death. There is no closed gate that will stop me from coming to you and speaking to you even though you aren't going to die, because, put simply, you are like an open gate for life and death, aka me." Death explained, sounding bored. Harry's eyes widened in confusion. Harry's mind was spinning, he couldn't seem to grasp at what death had just said. Death sighed, unimpressed with the boys limited mind.

"Let me break it down; I am Death, I take people away to the after-life when it's their time to die. I can not communicate with them, interact with them, make them die faster, etc. Though the Peverell brothers were a special exception, I had been awfully bored. I hadn't spoken to anyone in, well, I can't even fathom how long it had been since I had last had a decent conversation. I had thought tricking them would be fun and amusing. Anyway, back to the point at hand, you are related to the Peverell line, even though it was believed that the family had died away, leaving no male offspring. Not only that, you had possession of all three deathly hallows."

Harry listened, his mind spinning, feeling overwhelmed with all the stuff he had just learned about himself he hadn't even known about. He didn't even know Death was someone to be communicated with, well he supposed he should have known that seeing as how he had read the story of the deathly hallows and how Death had communicated with the brothers.

"So, I'm the master of Death, whatever that means, because I had all three deathly hallows and I'm related to the Peverell line?" Harry questioned, confused. What did him being master of Death even mean?

"Yes, well there's more to it, it's more of a fate and magic thing as well. Magic and fate very rarely meet and come together, because when they do, huge things and occurrences happen that can shift and change everything. This is one of those times." Death responded.

Harry felt a headache coming on. "So, what does me being the master of Death even mean? You explained that I was like a gate between you and life, is that all there is to it? And what does that mean as well?" Harry rubbed at his head and Death chuckled.

"There is a lot to learn as you've noticed, and a lot to train for as well. You have a power that can now be fully tapped into now that you're aware of your position. But it'll take time to learn and master your power, are you ready for that?"

Harry thought about it. He had more powers? Great, he was even more different now. Well, he should be used to it, he supposed.

"Don't feel sorry for yourself, do you realize how lucky you are? People would kill to be in the position you are, you ungrateful boy." Death hissed and Harry flinched.

"Right, sorry." Harry replied. "Can you explain more to me? Like my powers and what I actually am and what I'm capable of? I have so many questions." Harry changed the subject, he didn't like the cold, eery feeling he got when Death was mad.

"I'm sure you do." Death replied. "Sadly, I can only stay and talk to you for so long, my never ending job keeps me from having too long of a conversation, already thousands of souls are waiting to pass and they've become very impatient. I will be back tomorrow night though, and then I will answer your questions. Until then, goodnight young master."

And Harry was left in silence, sitting up in the dark room, his mind spinning at millions of miles per hour, questions filling his head.