The Master of Death

Chapter 4: Grimmauld Place

Unlike the last time Harry remembered, he didn't die

it was cold until they arrived in London. Instead, he enjoyed it more

the feeling of flying, the cold wind pulled on his clothes as they passed through the night.

Not a word can be heard because of that. Moody had to scream in order to

everyone understood his order to change direction as often as possible. Light

the dim stars illuminate the clouds, but more interesting than that are

a small light on the ground. Muggles were unknowingly sitting in their homes

alone, unaware of a group of Magicians flying overhead. But

eventually they ascend to heights where clouds block their view

and the last traces of civilization gave way that night.

This is an opportunity

perfect to ask some questions to Death. Shapes

the snake was still wrapped around his body and neck, so Harry tried it.  "Death?"  Ask

the language of parseltongue. Even if someone has to listen, they

you will only hear a strange hiss that is almost identical to the wind.

"Masterr ..."

Harry felt a snake in

under his shirt dissolves into nothingness and then there is presence in

next to him who could not be explained with words. Harry felt him

could hear the air shifting and the wind itself seemed to be getting calmer in

in front of the creature widely. He swallowed and for the first time

the next time, he really thought about the fact that Death

bring him here.

He suddenly felt

minuscule. He wanted to ask what happened to his mind, though,

his memory. But his words got stuck in his throat. She didn't

he could find himself speaking out loud. With eyes

wide Harry flickered into the darkness, invisible but feeling what

who's hiding there. His heart was pounding like a bird in

in a cage, pounding like wings on his ribs. His cold hands

gripping broom.

It was as if he had heard his panicked thoughts, that presence

amazingly it turned into a faint whisper. Harry gasped when he

feeling the echo of touch on his skin, but then pulled back up

there was only a hint of wind playing around with her hair. Taste ticklish in

his back and a wave of comfort enveloped him. Harry

exhaling with trembling breath.

"Don't be afraid .." That inhuman voice

whispering, words that were almost indistinguishable from the tearing wind

robe Harry. It sounded as small as Harry felt for a moment

then.

"I'm fine" said Harry. "I

doin' fine. I'm sorry." He doesn't know why he feels the need

apologizing.

After a while

then, Death spoke again. "Ask," he said,

" what do you want to ask."

"All right," said Harry. He swallowed. "I just

... In one moment I knew, felt and thought as if I was two

twenty-four years; I remember all my training as an Auror, my life after

war - life during war .. but in the next second time I feel

like a frightened fifteen-year-old who never gets through

today and fear Voldemort will strike at any time. Part of me is sure

that I haven't been in Little Whinging in years, yet

I know that I've been living in my house. room for the last few days and

Aunt Petunia pushed tomato soup through the cat door on my door this afternoon.

"

"I draw your soul to

in your young body. Your last memories are strongly linked to the present, more

from your older self. But the line between your personalities will blur along

the time. It will sort itself out. For now, you may have to

doing so dealt with a somewhat split mind. "

"But wouldn't my old personality just disappear

after I change what will happen in the future? I mean, I don't

you know things that never happen, right?"

" two

souls have joined, two souls at different times. You were reinvented

by coming here, being someone new. The clean slate.

Everything you have now is tied to me. And Death goes beyond

time ."

It took a while for Harry to let it sink in.

"Is this also the reason why I feel so disconnected

from someone else? Remus, Tonks, Moody - I remember how I felt

towards them, what I should have felt, but in the end ...

All that's left is an echo."

"Your memories determine

your emotions, but you have shed your old skin. You died the night you

choose to receive the title of Lord of Death. And if you order

Death, you are Death, Death. And Death does not judge . That

neutral in everything. "

Harry vaguely remembered one night in his third year at

Hogwarts after Trewlaney predicted his imminent death

come by. Hermione soon began to read about the different meanings of

Deaths. It didn't really convince him, but he

telling him that death usually also means change,

transformation, and the need to start over. Maybe he didn't

too wrong at the time. He asked himself how much

death known from himself.

"I don't know what

will happen. You change but you remain human" whispered Death. " I am

just know that we're tied. I'm influencing you just as much as you

affect me."

And for the first time Harry got a faint sensation of

a feeling he didn't recognize as his own. It stings

and tickle, like a belly that thumped as it pulsed inside

himself.

It took a while until Harry knew what it was.

Jollification.

Harry was lost in his thoughts. She finally

pulled out from the depths of his mind when one showed light

shining in the distance. They have arrived in London.

At this point, Harry did not even try to wonder

why he could still see the dirty old building, called Grimmauld

Place No's. 12. He looked at her with astonishment in his eyes and at that moment

just ignore the familiar sight.

It was only when Moody gave him a small piece of paper, Harry

realizing that he shouldn't be able to see too much of the house and with

quickly down. He knew what kind of words would be written above

the paper, but before his eyes could blink on the parchment, a sound

death pulled him out of the parchment. The creature appeared behind

his robe was as a snake as soon as they landed. And now only

a little 's' told Harry that it was parseltongue

which he heard.

"If you look at

his words, you are bound by that magic. It's your choice, but you keep it

can get in." Harry felt his arrogance more than he could

hear. "Nobody can hide from Death."

"I know a different story" murmured Harry

slowly, strangely amused by the childish emotions that the creatures showed

that's.

But when he turned his attention back to the piece

parchment, he knew that Death was true. He can feel the magic

around the paper. It was harder to detect than the aura

it surrounded the people next to it, but the aura was there.

After a moment of contemplation, Harry settled on an opinion

that avoiding magical contracts sounds like a wiser course of action

to do. So Harry quickly looked down to look like

reading the words written in Dumbledore's handwriting

narrow, but instead he examined the dry grass that had struggled

through the concrete slit. After a few seconds he lifted his head and

looking at the black door with the snake handle again. Harry let

his mouth opened dramatically and pretended to be jolted in shock.

"Come on," Remus said after Moody burned the paper

and he touched the door with the end of his wand. Screaming sound and click lock

I can hear it behind the door. His voice was familiar and new at the same time.

They enter quickly and Remus reminds them to

keep still. Tonks brought Harry and Elphias Doge's broom so that Harry

free to walk through the door without obstruction.

　

　

As soon as he entered, Harry inspected the long entrance hall and

darkened.

With every piece of furniture in sight, every crack in that wall

categorized by his brain as a new sight, old memories appeared

revert.

He had lived in this house until he reached the age of two

the tens and hype of the press have subsided a little.

Staying here wasn't even that bad after she learned

how to deal with Madam Black and Kreacher starting to clean up

edifice. But only when he moves into a flat in London, Harry

realize how much the house has drained his energy. Certain burdens have been

gripping him, a burden he could not explain.

to his surprise, the sight of Grimmauld's place made a similar impression.

And that fascinated Harry.

Of course there is a foul smell, dust and cobwebs

hanging on a high ceiling. But the longer he looked at

the walls, the more he felt what was entwined into the space between the stones

brickwork.

The enchanted Harry touched the closest wall

with him.

He could feel the magic pulsing behind the wall paper

moldy, almost like a hidden heart. There's a ward above the ward

which are woven into the masonry. Old, like the blood they make

to protect. Ancestor after ancestor added what they were

know. Some weaker some stronger yet they were each other

it is like the roots of a tree.

The longer Harry focused, the more he could tell the difference

the parts are different.

The most visible spell was extremely pulsating with

sorceries. Strong and intelligent, they are the first layer of defense, but

they don't feel they really fit. Recently at their age, they,

too bright and too close to the surface to be thrown by

someone connected to Black's house. This protection is not rooted

strong like the others, even though they are strong.

Dumbledore, guess Harry.

　

　

In addition to the headmaster's protection, there was another light spell that

woven into the magic tapestry, but the oldest magic in the house

darkened. Some neighborhoods feel like tar. Similar to swamp,

they would consume everything that dared cross it. There are some

the sharp ones are like blades and the others are just for hiding. Harry

look at the charm of fidelius. It was a sensation similar to

the thin sheath that lines the building, flows through the outer wall.

And while the old wards still exist - combined are even stronger than

the principal's protection - they're weakened.

Dark and promising maybe he once cried out, but now

he was stained and rotten, black and hungry, devouring all he could

unreached. It is impressive that the magic is still intact though deep

weak and given his age.

Harry became so distracted that he didn't even

watch Moody until the man pats his head with his cane to

raising the charm of despair. He was jolted loudly which made him

amused snort from Mad-Eye.

Some portraits glanced at him with curiosity and they

whispering about a newcomer.

The sound of hasty footsteps sounded from the other end of the front hall,

and Mrs Weasley appeared at the door, which led to the kitchen. "Oh Harry, happy

meet you!" He whispered and tried to pull her into one

his embrace that broke the bone. Hissing death threatens. Harry is not

could tell that he was disappointed when he immediately retreated.

“Oh, you have a new pet, Harry?” Mrs Weasley

it looked like he did not know if he should immediately throw the snake out

home, or whether she should smile at him for Harry's sake last but

it looks more like a grin of pain.

Finally he decided on a safe topic and he knew exactly what

what he has to say. "You're so skinny," he's fussy and

pat Harry on the cheek, "You need to eat more, but I'm worried about you

have to wait a while until dinner's ready." Switch to group

the witch behind Harry, he added, "She just arrived.

The meeting has begun."

And while the others began to whisper, Dumbledore's name was like

praying on their lips, Harry used a moment of distraction to silently

sneaking out of Mrs Weasley's reach. While the more

young of her - whose last human contact was the embrace she had

thank you from Hermione and Ron at the beginning of the summer - no objection

with his fussiness, his older self was less impressed by the nature

conceitedly. Although he probably meant well.

Soon, the conversations around Harry made up his own mind

travel to the famous principal.

This time her younger self won, her hatred for

the man was like an open wound, his emotions were vibrant the memory of taking the newspaper from

trash can to find out at least something that's

happen. Her older self had long forgiven Dumbledore over

his mistake, but was thrown back into the hot kettle - arguably - was

change a lot of things.

Harry's not in the mood to be a pawn in a head game

school. Dumbledore might have had a reason to keep a few things

to himself, but Harry was not naive. He won't just

trusting the Headmaster, unlike a part of him that was still

wanting it, despite the echo of anger lingering in his mind like glue.

Dumbledore was just a man. And he has

his mistake. He's exactly like Slughorn. Both collect

people, but unlike Slughhorn, Dumbledore did not focus on

famous and influential people, he focuses on people

exiles. He forgives them and offers them protection,

second chances, demand nothing more than their loyalty. And who is

was there to deny something great Dumbledore - to be a spy

in Voldemort's ranks, persuade the giants to choose the right side or infiltrate

to the werewolf - after all, he was the one who helped when no one was around

another one over there.

Dumbledore himself might argue that he did good,

but some may have fared better without the effect. Harry

snorted. Isn't he the best example of this?

Dumbledore had sent him to his death solely

for the greater good. But what good is that on

Harry's? Of course no one could have anticipated that collecting

Relic would actually benefit him. But other than that ...

Of course, his death had saved people. But

Voldemort isn't the only killer out there and personally will be what

what good was Harry's death to him? There aren't. Not at all.

If Voldemort was just a sane boy and and Harry

a little more selfish, the chances of reaching a deal that would be profitable

they both and in turn cause Harry to live a life that

happier objectively, will be much greater.

　

　

Harry had no doubt that Dumbledore was so painful to

it sent him to his death, but that did not stop him from

continuing it.

Knowing that the old man had already suspected the horcrux in Harry and

thus plotting his death - even if it was for "goodness

the bigger one", he would try to rely on the principal

as little as possible. In addition, play on Voldemort's side for a bit

sounds like a lot more fun. And if he insists on

kill Harry, well, he's got a few tricks up his sleeve. Seven exactly.

Harry is drawn from his mind when people are around him

it slowly began to move towards the door at the end of the front hall. Knowing that

he would not be allowed at the order meeting, Harry turned around and asked

at Mrs Weasley where Ron and Hermione were.

"Of course," Mrs Weasley nodded, "Come on, baby,

I'll show you."

Harry follows Mrs Weasley to the top, the head of the house fairy

the decapitated cast a terrifying shadow onto the wall. "Look, door

the right is yours. I really have to go now, but Ron and

Hermione will explain everything. I'll call you if dinner's over

ready." ready." Then he turned around and quickly walked down.

"Masters ...."  Death hisses, causing

Harry stopped, his hands floating in the air to open the door.

"Death?" Harry answered.

"You want to know about

horcruxes ..."

"And is it still there?"

"Yes, but I can

remove it if you want."

"Can you remove it at any time?" Harry

asking, his mind had already considered the opportunities that the factors would give

here's her. On one hand he would be able to spy on Voldemort if he

wanting it as well and being a Horcrux was definitely the kind of lever that

unique, but on the other hand ... He doesn't want to be shabby

these. What if Voldemort used legilimency on her? Or

Dumbledore ...

"Your mind is starting to change

ever since you became my master, making what you fear even more difficult

as time passes. But right now you're still vulnerable" Death answered the question

the unspoken. "Although I can

pluck it whenever you ask me."

Harry hummed while thinking. "Then, I

will save. For the time being. If it turns into a distraction, we'll

handle it."

With that he turned the doorknob - its shape was like a snake -

and open the door.