Emissaries of Angvard

Disclaimer – This is a work of purely speculative fiction. It is not intended to infringe on any rights by and of the companies and/or individuals involved in the production of any series mentioned here. The characters involved are the intellectual property of their respective authors/creators except for the ones that are listed as an OC, which are mine.

A/N – 1. The first few paragraphs are almost directly taken from Harry Potter & The Deathly Hallows with little changes here and there. But they are used in a context that is completely different from canon.

I urge you to read them because they are crucial to the sentiments the chapter wishes to covey. They also play the part of explaining how different, things happened here from cannon.

3. For the details regarding spells that I have used from sources other than HP, see the A/N at the end.

That is all. Enjoy the chapter.

-x-x-x-x-x-

(2 May 1998 - The Forbidden Forest)

"I thought he would come," said Voldemort in his high, clear voice, his eyes on the leaping flames. "I expected him to come."

…

"I was, it seems… mistaken," said Voldemort.

"You weren't," Harry said as loudly as he could, with all the force he could muster: He did not want to sound afraid.

Just as the Ressurection stone was about to slip from between his numb fingers, a familiar feeling that he had forgotten so long ago let itself known. Not knowing the reason for it, but doing it anyway, he gently pushed the stone into his back pocket and out of the corner of his eyes saw the forms of his parents, Sirius, and Lupin vanish as he stepped forward into the firelight.

-x-x-x-x-x-

…Hands, softer than he had been expecting, touched Harry's face, pulled back an eyelid, crept beneath his shirt, down to his chest, and felt his heart. He could hear the woman's fast breathing, her long hair tickled his face. He knew that she could feel the steady pounding of life against his ribs.

"Is Draco alive? Is he in the castle?"

The whisper was barely audible, her lips were an inch from his ear, her head bent so low that her long hair shielded his face from the onlookers.

"Yes," he breathed back.

- Harry Potter & The Deathly Hallows

He felt the hand on his chest contract: her nails pierced him. Then it was withdrawn. She sat up.

It is fascinating how one instant can change one's whole life in a matter of seconds. How it can devour the destiny of those close enough to be caught in the storm. How one person…held in their grasp the very shatter point of the world.

Ever since her birth, Narcissa Malfoy formerly Black had known nothing but prejudice. Not that she had ever considered it as such. Been raised as the youngest daughter of Cygnus and Druella Black (née Rosier), she was taught the philosophy of blood purity from a young age and regaled by the stories of how the unworthy had stolen the magic of their ancestors to become a mimicry of what the lords of old once had been.

Between the eldest, Bellatrix, and her mother, she really had stood no chance to come out of the quagmire of prejudiced opinions and violent tendencies even when Andromeda, the second daughter of her parents, had attempted, time and again, to cajole her corroding thoughts away from the principles their parents had chiselled into them from the very beginning.

Calling Andromeda, a mudblood lover, having married the love of her life, Theodore Tonks, Narcissa had broken any and all contact with her in her later years, unknowingly closing the only door for salvation that she would have in her life.

So now, when she saw the half-blood Potter scion lying beside her, feigning his death, all so he could pounce on a chance, having told her that her son, the boy she loved more than life itself was alive, it was not gratefulness that she felt, but fury. Fury brought forth by the past harsh years her family had had to endure the tortures of their master, their own lives in peril, and having lost all respect in the eyes of their peers.

She did not see that the Potter boy had saved Draco from death on occasions, even risking his own life sometimes. But she saw the reason for her loving boy to have faced the deadly encounters all on his own in the first place.

Here was one chance for her to get all that was lost to her.

Her family will rise once more.

Her son will have the respect that Malfoys once held in the eyes of the wizarding world.

"He is alive!" Narcissa Malfoy cried at the watchers.

And then all hell broke loose.

-x-x-x-x-x-

(13 May 2010 – Ruins of Hogwarts Castle)

"So it all comes down to this, doesn't it?" whispered Harry.

"Does the wand in your hand know its last master was Disarmed? Because if it does… I am the true master of the Elder Wand." Harry bluffed, knowing full well that the death stick did not owe him its allegiance. Death had told him as much.

A red-glow burst suddenly across the enchanted sky above them as an edge of dazzling sun appeared over the sill of the nearest window. The light hit both of their faces at the same time so that Voldemort's was suddenly a flaming blur. Harry heard the high voice shriek as he too yelled his best hope to the heavens, pointing his phoenix-feathered wand:

"Avada Kedavra!"

"Coracis!"

The bang was like a cannon blast and the golden flames that erupted between them, at the dead centre of the circle they had been treading, marked the point where the spells collided. Harry saw Voldemort's killing curse meet his own spell, green battling red.

The beads that had once been the symbols of their matched wands were nowhere to be seen, having lost their purpose as soon as Harry had destroyed his nemesis' yew wand in a nasty duel a year or so back.

The bastard had not grown any weaker in the slightest ever since their last clash. Not that Harry had expected it. Lord Voldemort had within his grasp the very essence of his magic, controlled and powerful.

But then again, Harry had become more than what he once had been nearly twelve years ago when he had cheated death by the slightest of margin in the Forbidden Forest during the Battle of Hogwarts.

The years hadn't been kind on him, but he had remained strong even in the face of insurmountable odds. With the amount of control he had on his magic, he had single-handedly taken upon more than a few of the lieutenants that the Dark Lord was in the habit of sending after him.

None, not even the formidable Lestrange brothers had been able to down him. He had out-duelled them two on one and had only left them alive enough to answer the questions the Resistance desperately needed answered.

His magic was powerful, his spirit strong and after years of battling the war that had shook their realm, his will was iron. Unbent and Rigid.

It didn't matter that he could not match the beast duelling him spell for spell. It didn't matter that he could not still come close to the powerhouse that was Lord Voldemort. It didn't matter that he was alone, in the ruins, while his enemy had his forces behind him, the forces he had thinned to but a mere dozen before coming here, as they all looked at him with a mix of fearful and hungry gaze.

It didn't matter because one look at the pulsing black stone that sat within the black ring on his finger and he knew…He knew that victory would be his tonight.

He had everything he could to rid the world of his soul-jars. Even the pet snake the pale bastard tend to keep at his side after his failed attack at Hogwarts all those years ago had been finished off by Ron and Hermione and the last of the Resistance just a few minutes before. Even though he wasn't there, the look of unadulterated terror on the face of his nemesis had been enough for him to know that the Resistance had been successful in their mission. It was a memory he was going to cherish even if he ended up in the hellish pits of the damned.

But there was still one that remained. The one the bastard had created after the Battle of Hogwarts using some poor soul whom they hadn't been able to evacuate when the Death Eater's had come calling.

Seeing the deaths of so many children that night…it had broken something within him. Narcissa Malfoy had been his first conscious kill that night. The one he had meant to kill from the bottom of his heart. Everyone else that had fallen to his wand that night had just been the victim of his righteous fury.

That one soul-jar had been the thing the Resistance had been hunting for years now. The one he knew they would never be able to find now. Not in the time frame they had anyway.

The war had dragged on for more than a decade now. Countless lives had been lost to fight one megalomaniac who was hell-bent on subjugating half the world's population through murder.

The muggles had finally put their foot down.

Kingsley had just gotten word from their spy within muggle Prime Minister's aid that a decision had been made to cut their losses and eradicate the vermins who were responsible for killing countless of her majesty's legitimate citizens.

It would have been good news if the definition of vermin in the meeting hadn't involved all the magicals living in the British Isles.

Harry had scoffed when Kingsley had shown him the report from the spy. The fucking Pope had even been consulted. The mouldy old preacher of peace had heavy-heartedly given his acquiesce as though he had ever had any authority over the magicals.

Fucking heretics.

What had hit him though, were the actions of his fellow magicals.

The I.C.W. had denied their requests for help after the matter had reached muggle ears stating that since the muggles were now in the loop and as hundreds of muggle lives had already been lost, their involvement would put every nation under their purview at risk.

What a load of shit!

But it had opened up the flood gates of denials from every single party they had contacted. The Ministries of Magic all over the world had given much the same response, give or take a few.

The French had helped some, so had the MACUSA but when trade sanctions had been imposed upon them, their help had vanished without so much as a by your leave.

It had been made clear to them, they were all on their own.

Kingsley had managed to convince the Minister for a reprieve of forty-eight hours to mount one last operation. One last hope for thousands of survivors hiding all over the isles, waiting…waiting for the monster's days to end.

But even then Harry knew, it had been a foolish hope.

Without the last Horcrux, there would always be someone who could and would bring him back to commit atrocities again. And then there will not be any reprieve from the people who had been burning their kind at the stakes for centuries.

And so, it all came down to here and now.

And the price of the victory. One price too much. But a price he would pay without shedding a tear. For they were his people. His family.

The green jet battling his own red thrusted its corroding naturing towards him as the wand in his hand vibrated with the sudden surge. It didn't matter now. The end was near. And it would be upon him before his people reached him…before he got to see their faces one last time.

Dismissing the thought, he gripped the knife in his hand by the edge and slit his palm, opening a large gash in the middle. The drops of his life-brew spilt over the grass where Astonomy's tower had once stood like the final beats of a dying heart.

Before the Killing curse could gain more power from the superior wand, gaining even more strength from the no doubt fuming Dark Lord, Harry did the unthinkable.

With a slash, he abruptly broke the connection of his magic with his wand and immediately rolled to his side to avoid the curse coming at him.

"Realised your folly, have you Potter!" snarled Voldemort. "No matter. The angel of mercy will not touch your soul tonight. Your end, my beginning…it is upon us."

"Avada…"

Before the dark lord could utter the spell, Harry struck. His bloodied hand painted the stone on his finger and inside his robes where lay the cloak of invisibility with its crimson essence and he intoned with all his intent and will thrusted into one single spell. "ORCUS COHEREO!"

The cloak and stone surged to life in an instant. Their smooth surfaces glowing with an eerie light as they sucked on his magic like thirsty carnivores.

Harry, prepared though he was for what was to come, still gasped and fell to his knees and felt the powerful tug at his core, signalling him that the connection had been established by the spell. The spell he had earned in his bargain with Death.

'Any moment now,' he thought, desperately, looking at the moving world as if in slow motion.

It happened just as the Dark Lord was about to spit the last syllabus of his favoured spell.

"…Kedav…AHHHHHHHH…." A high pitched scream left Lord Voldemort's throat as his body began to burn in terrible agony. He stumbled backwards clutching at his pale hands, attempting to wrench away the wand from his hands.

Having the most intimate connection with his own magic as he did, Voldemort could feel the wand somehow sucking it from his core at a worrying rate even with his attempts to sever its connection forcefully.

The resurrection ritual had given him a body, true, but it had been a magical construct in its truest sense. From the tissue and bone to the smallest of nerve endings, it had been the work of the necromantic magic he had found deep in the caves that had once been the harsh lands outside the Nile Valley, the kingdom of Egyptian god Set.

Voldemort knew, instinctively, that his core would not be sufficient to end the hunger of the Stick of Destiny. His body would soon follow.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE POTTER!" he shouted, frothing at the mouth even as his efforts to rid himself of the wand continued to fail.

Hearing the screams of his most hated enemy, a vicious smile bloomed on his face. 'It worked!' Harry cried inwardly.

Knowing the time was of the essence, he touched his wand tip onto the ground beneath his feet and cast with all his might.

"Terra Diffringo!"

His magic spread within the ground like a parchment soaking water. And the result was as spectacular as it had been the first time he had cast the spell. A tug of war ensued between the spell and the Hallow on his finger as both tried to lay claim to his magic.

Harry knew the struggle would not last long. No matter the power requirements of the earth spell, it had nothing on the Hallow. His only chance was to take advantage of the few seconds it gave him.

All around him the very earth lurched with a purpose as it shook with a cataclysmic force, ripping apart stone, tearing the layers beneath with sickening cracks just as the Dark Lord's forces stumbled along with their master. Multiple crevices appeared all around the area perfusing with his magic. Dark hollow innards showed themselves to the butchers as though the open maws of a beast, reminding them of their end.

A rift opened up right below the left flank and swallowed seven of Voldemort's followers deep within its recesses, their screams echoing in the chasms frightening many who lingered nearby. Two from the right followed the same end as the ground beneath them gave away.

Harry, though, was already on the move. An upward heave from his wand and wide barriers of stone grew from the torn ground between him and his opponent even as he leapt towards the nearest one to close the distance.

Deadly curses and Hexes passed him by as the few Death Eaters who had gained their balance attempted to catch him despite their master's instructions before he reached any closer than he already had. It surprised him that they had understood, if only partially, what his goal was. He had been under the impression that the Resistance had picked off all the Death Munchers who had more than a few brain cells to command the forces. It seemed he had been mistaken.

But it wouldn't make even the tiniest bit of difference tonight.

A dodge to the left, a roll forwards, sidestep to avoid the familiar pink hue of the dark variant of a gouging spell and he was off towards another barrier.

Just a couple more steps now.

He shielded himself from the arcs of lightning that came towards him, his blue shield fading away as soon as the attack stopped. He continued to move regardless, stumbling along the way as the earth-spell continued to leech off the magic from his core.

One more stone barrier left.

"Confringo!" He cried deflecting an exploding curse to his right with one of his own.

Swatting aside two bone breakers and an entrails expelling curse, he leapt towards the stable ground ahead and broke into a run, watching from the corner of his eyes as a few black figures attempted to flank his left, trying to hit him from behind.

'Honourless Cowards.'

"Expulso!" Harry shouted, throwing the blue jet to his left and a split second later gave another heave from his wand to the heavens without even looking at his attackers.

The wizards who hadn't fallen into the crevice and were taking potshots at him from behind cover jumped back to avoid the blasting curse just as the stone spears from the ground speared their bodies rising from the ground as Harry's second spell struck.

Heaving breaths and a large dip in his magic told him that he had little time.

'Protego Duo!' He conjured a reflective shield at his front and rammed the last few meters to his opponent with a roar that shook the heavens.

"AAAAHHHHHHHHH…." He thundered. Pushing himself to the very edge if it meant he could end this nightmare tonight.

The stumbling Dark Lord now within his grasping distance, he let the shield fall. He didn't need protection tonight. Tonight, he would meet the monster head-on.

A shout from behind alerted the struggling Voldemort of his presence. "MY LORD!"

It did him no good.

Harry was onto him before he could do anything other than lift his wand a bare inch.

"Oh, come on, Tom... Let's finish it the way we started it…" Harry whispered harshly gripping Voldemort's wand arm in an iron grip, "…Together!" and jumped into the open crevice connecting to the endless chasm that had once been The Black Lake.

A scream echoed from the edge of the fields.

"HARRY!"

Hermione's cry reached far, but not far enough for Harry to return to her.

The Resistance had arrived with his two best friends leading the charge as they joined in the fight against the remaining Death Eaters.

Seeing her best friend fall to his death pulling with him their enemy was enough to jolt them all into action.

But none realised except perhaps her that they had seen the last of Harry Potter. At least, until they joined him in the next great adventure.

-x-x-x-x-x-

The proximity of the two items of power, channelling magic from the cores of two of the most powerful wizards of the century was a phenomenon none had ever witnessed before.

Until now.

It started with an echo of a scream.

"AAAHHHHHHHHHH…AAAAHHHHHHHHHH…"

The two forms falling melded together as the Hallows extracted the price that Harry had set upon himself and the man who had taken everything from him when he had intoned the powerful spell to connect their cores with the accursed items.

The Deathly Hallows. Despite being three different items of power said to have been given to the wizards by death itself, they were one unit. Capable of so much more than even the most power-hungry wizard could have ever dreamt possible.

But none, not even the original holders of the Hallows had ever realised this truth.

Until one did and used it to eradicate the evil who had marred his life with endless pain.

Harry felt himself fall with a sense of detachment. He knew the spell on him core was still active. He could feel the stone on his finger and the cloak in his pocket pulling it out of him even now. One look at the panicking face of his enemy and he knew the same was true for him as well.

"WE WILL BOTH DIE, POTTER!" the madman screamed as the howling wind muffled his words. "END THE SPELL! END IT! NOW!"

Harry simply continued to clutch his robes with all his strength and looked at him amusedly. "No," he quipped even as a scream tore through his own throat, the beginning of his end, setting in. "AHHHHHHHHHHHH…"

"CURSE YOU, POTTER! CURSE YO….AGGGHHHHHH…"

Fire, hungry and all-consuming fire erupted from within their bodies as their cores finally depleted.

All too soon the feeling of falling dimmed to a standstill and he saw with a satisfied if a bit tired smile the last remnants of the monster that had taken away his parents being consumed by the fire take away with it the wand of destiny.

A heaviness settled upon him and he gave himself to the embrace of darkness that was pulling him towards his end.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Burning…It had a distinctly different feel to it than anything he had ever felt before. The way his flesh sizzled and melted right before his eyes. The smell of it…his screams…his very life being lifted out of his body. He could feel every second of it. Could see it as if he was an outsider, watching his body being scorched asunder. It was almost easy at this point, despite the pain involved, to let go.

And so he did, surrendering himself to the pull that was calling him from the beyond.

A mind-shattering scream seemed to echo in the abyss as he felt himself being wrenched by an invisible force. He felt a forceful jerk and suddenly his essence veered upwards pulling him along. Time lost all meaning as the journey seemed to go on forever. Up towards the heavens he went as though he were a passenger of some force he had no understanding of.

It took some time to realise that the echoing screams he was hearing were coming from his own throat, not that it helped him any. He had no control over anything anymore. Nothing he could do or rather wished he could do seemed to change anything in this place. Minutes, hours, days, blended in together. Where was he? What was happening? Was this it? The afterlife. The great next adventure that Dumbledore seemed to prattle on and on about. Didn't seem like much, did it? At least the screams had stopped. Or was it just him? Wasn't he the one who had been screaming?

The black streams of nothingness touched him and backed away repeatedly as if in the rhythm of breathing of some gargantuan beast. There was nothing here but constantly flowing black miasma that he couldn't even touch. His body, if he could call the translucent blob that, was flowing through the stream along with a multitude of other things that he couldn't name nor understand.

The pain that had settled within him pulsed continuously as though playing a part in a cruel symphony. His essence contorted, shifting in the nothingness as the cold abyss started to affect him with its corroding touch.

Hands, thousands of them, tried to hold him down, keep him with them, as they had so many before. He cried sharply when he felt something bite him with its sharp and jagged teeth despite having no physical form.

He remembered losing his magic. He remembered everything that had happened in the span of a few hours. But why then did he feel his magic spreading around him, consuming every soul that had tried to trap him just now.

Pain…An all-consuming pain erupted within him as his magic connected him to every soul that had touched his essence.

"AAAAHHHHHHHHHH…."

"Help us…Help us chosen one…Save us…why won't you heed our calls…Save us from this pain…SAVE US!"

"AAAAHHHHHHH…"

It was all too much. Too much for him to handle. No one could hold onto that much pain and still have their sanity.

"STOP!" Harry cried. "STOP!"

"…Save us…why won't you save us…Save us from this pain…HELP US!"

"LEAVE ME!" His anguished, his pleas getting drowned by the souls.

"Peace, little one."

And just like that, silence, blessed silence rained upon him bathing him with its calm serenity and took away all the pain that had set upon him by the desperate souls.

"Follow my voice….Come to me…I am waiting…"

His eyes opened in the same black abyss as he heard the enchanting voice. It was familiar. Like a forgotten song he could remember listening but not the melody that went with it.

A whisper of a name niggled at the back of his mind but he was unable to grasp it no matter how hard he tried. It was like an itch inside his very skin.

A mesmerising white light burst forth from above him and warmth spread through his being, washing away all his worries. And once more, Harry Potter gave into the embrace of the unknown.

-x-x-x-x-x-

It was the sound of hooves that woke him from the most peaceful sleep he had ever gotten in his life. The rhythmic clip-clops of the footfalls fell on his ears like the most bizarre melody he had never heard before.

It was surprisingly soothing.

Harry sat up groggily, looking around with a sense of awe, astounded by what he was seeing.

Wherever he was, this place…It was breathtaking.

Whether it was after sunset, or before sunrise, he didn't know. But the light from the sky appeared diffused and pinkish, colouring the surroundings with its hue and serenity. The sun was below the horizon, but its rays were scattered by the atmosphere that imprinted on the twinkling stars shining above.

Just as his eyes caught sight of them, a lone star shimmered into existence and brought with it the curse of his memories.

Harry scrambled to his feet clutching his head as he tried to steady himself on the mossy grass hill. The images of his life flashed before him, reminding of all that he had left behind and all that he had saved.

It took him but a scant few moments to make sense of it all but understanding finally bloomed within him.

His lips quirked up in a sad smile as he looked at the sun once more.

It had lost some of its brilliance. Perhaps not in reality, but it seemed dull to him all the same in the presence of the truth. Maybe it was the transcendence? Or whatever that had happened to him.

Death hadn't been much clear on the issue when he had given him the spell that connected all the Hallows with the wizards' cores.

"I wasn't, was I?" a deep sound interrupted his musings forcing him to pause in his introspection.

Harry turned and found himself not the least bit surprised to see the being coming towards him.

He was a grey man, tall with broad shoulders as they held the two ends of a dark cape hanging behind him wafting with the winds as he walked. His skin was like porcelain, unmarred and stilting. On his head sat a crown, golden and shining embedded with gems of various colours and sizes.

But it was not his appearance but the powerful aura surrounding him that demanded respect.

Harry turned his back to the man to once more look at the twilight sky even as the man continued walking towards him beside a grey horse in tow with its reins in his hands as he guided his steed along his path.

Death.

That is what he had called himself when he had met him before.

And as in life, Harry wasn't even the least bit afraid of his presence, powerful or not.

When his footfalls came near enough for Harry to hear him and his trotting horse, the being stood watching him, silently. Waiting.

Harry said nothing. Content with watching the scene in front of him.

A sigh escaped Death's lips. "I see you're still the same."

"You expected the end of my life would change who I am?" Harry countered.

"Change? Perhaps not. But troubled with querries, certainly." Death replied softly nudging his horse with a pat to his long neck to give them some privacy.

Harry simply smiled without turning. "Would it change what happened?"

When Death remained silent, he spoke once more. "I thought as much…The only questions I have are the ones you will give me anyway. I know you enough to believe that you are a being of your word, and you gave your word to me. For now…that is enough. It has been many years since I have felt this, this free. I think I will enjoy it for a while longer."

With that, Harry began to walk away. Ten, thirty, fifty yards ahead over the peak of the hill, he stopped and sat beside the grazing horse without a sound. It was peaceful.

And he could do with some peace now that he wasn't among the living.

-x-x-x-x-x-

'They will know what you have done, little one…' A voice whispered.

'They have magic you have yet to learn and with intentions are dark as their own…they will stop at nothing if they find something amiss to hunt you down.'

His body shuffled in his sleep as echoes of the past he had forgotten continued to barge into his mind.

'You will live in my memories forever, Harry Potter…'

Harry woke up with a start, sweating profusely even as the cold air on the hill on his spot breathed him back to consciousness.

It had happened, again.

The voice…that hauntingly beautiful voice had penetrated his mind again just as it had been doing for what felt like a really long time now.

Maybe next time he would remember who she was and why she seemed so important.

He had a lot of time to figure out the mystery anyway.

-x-x-x-x-x-

'A rumbling sound came from her throat as she laughed? Our hides are much stronger than yours, little one. It was barely a scratch. she said as her tongue licked a scale near the centre of her body.'

'To have the courage to do what is right not what is easy is the bedrock of what makes you a champion, little one…'

"The dream troubles you still?" a voice asked from behind.

Harry sighed and rubbed his face with his hands and turned partially to look at Death. "You ask as if you do not know the answers I am looking for," he answered with a piercing gaze but with quirked lips that took away the heat from his words.

"Perhaps I wish for you to find the truth for yourself?" Death returned, looking far away into the orange sky.

Harry shook his head. "I do not require another puzzle, my friend."

A small smile came to Death's grey face as he heard the endearment. It had been a long time since he'd had any friend. It felt…pleasing, even for someone like him, to hear a soul call him a friend.

Not many had the strength to accept his harsh reality.

But the man sitting at his front had not taken much time to get accustomed to it. And his fate had been harsher than any other who had passed his hallow lands.

"How does the world fair?" Harry asked, bringing Death back from his thoughts.

"Your people are safe, Harry. They have recovered. Your friends have even brought a new life into the world below. We discussed this earlier, remember?" Death chided gently.

"I do," Harry nodded, his lips forming a genuine smile at the reminder of Ron and Hermione's second daughter.

He had never seen them, he couldn't, for such was the existence in limbo. But he knew all about them. Had never failed to ask Death about their lives during their talks most evenings. He was happy for his friends. And his people. "I just…I just wish…" he trailed off, shaking his head at the unreasonable thought that had sprung to his mind.

Death, though, had seen his thoughts on his face before he could hide it. "You wish you could live again. Be among them for the joyous times as you were during the struggles," he stated.

Harry turned back and stared into the horizon that carried in its womb the never-setting sun. There was a time, he knew, when he would have tried to deny it. But he had learnt to accept things since then. "I do," he repeated.

Silence settled upon the hill as the two friends sat beside each other, merely enjoying each other's company.

Death pondered over many things during these peaceful moments they shared. Though he had plenty of duties, countless souls needing to be ferried from the living just being one of them, he always came to see Harry on the hill he had decided to call his own.

It was a sight to behold, the courage of this man. If Death had the luxury of it, or if the circumstances hadn't about to become dire, he would have liked to forget about the bargain he had made with him during the wizard's time of need.

But the world needed warriors. And that is what Harry was. A warrior through and through.

And though it pained him to ask for his payment, he would, because the other world in his domain would crumble to ashes if he chose the path of cowardice despite its own prophecy of a chosen one written in The Word. The only writ by the creator they all had to follow. Even beings like him.

Death knew Harry's world would bloom to become the pinnacle of human achievement in the centuries that would follow. The struggles of his people and his own sacrifice had made sure of that. He had seen it with his very eyes.

But there were trials still left for other souls in worlds beyond. Trials where countless souls would perish without a lancer to cut through the evil that plagued their lands.

Death looked at his side to see the content visage of the wizard who had accepted the end he had received. It was commendable. But it was also untrue. His was a life that was far from an end.

It was more than a few moments later before Death broke the peaceful quiet.

"It is time, Harry."

Harry stilled at those words, instantly realising what Death meant. A few moments passed before the tension in his shoulders eased and he released a deep sigh. "Has it been that long?" he asked in a tone that could not hide his sadness.

"It has been more than a few years, my friend." Death replied gently.

He nodded in respect more than anything. Harry knew that he wouldn't grow old, or even age now that he had accepted the burden that his actions had forced him to take. Not that he wouldn't have done what was required of him.

The spell that ended his enemy's days had had far-reaching consequences than he had previously realised.

The Master of Death.

Harry scoffed remembering the title wizards had given to the one who could gather all three Deathly Hallows.

Knowing the stupidity of an average wizard, he should have realised it far sooner than he had.

The three items of power were a part of Death. And nothing that mortals could ever wield without losing themselves in the process.

Voldemort had thought himself the master of Elder wand. Hunh. The Elder wand had only one master and he was sitting right beside Harry at this very moment lost in the thoughts, probably pondering problems a bit more cosmic in nature.

Harry remembered his final moments when he had connected his core with the essence residing within the resurrection stone and the cloak of invisibility. He didn't know it then, but an imbalance had been created in the powers that were meant to keep the balance. The similar essence of power residing in the Elder wand had done the only thing it could to fill the void that had been created by his meddling.

It had sought out a connection of its own. Voldemort's magic.

And so had ended the threat to his world.

Death hadn't taken much time to recover what was his the moment both of their souls arrived in the beyond. Absorbing the powers within the items, he had banished the soul of one Tom Marvolo Riddle to join the damned in the pits below and had brought Harry here.

To Death's domain.

The domain of King Angvard. Ruler of the perished souls.

Harry wasn't impressed, well, not much anyway.

His friend didn't have much of the arrogance that came with the title, perhaps it was just him, but Death didn't seem to behave much like a king around him either.

It was…refreshing. To see a being of such power with such humility.

Feeling Death's stare upon him, he relented the threads of his errant thoughts. He knew he was stalling. It seemed his friend had realised it as well.

"I gave you my word," Harry voiced, "I will not turn back on it."

"You will not be able to see your loved ones for a very long time, Harry. I do not say this to be cruel, I merely wish for you to understand what the journey would entail," said the King solemnly.

"But they will be waiting for me when I return?" Harry asked with hope lingering in his voice.

"I believe I shall answer this as your mother once did. Your loved ones never really leave you, my friend. They will always be with you, there," Death said pointing a delicate finger at his heart.

Harry swallowed thickly, touched by the words and the whisper of a promise they carried in his tone.

"And what of the truth you wished for me to find," he asked more to gain time to control the upheaval of emotions the words had caused within him.

For the first time since Harry had ever known him, Death smirked. "You will know it soon enough."

As soon as the words left his lips, Harry felt a familiar pull at his being that had carried him away once before.

The mesmerising white light burst forth from above him just as it had once before and warmth spread through his being, washing away all his worries.

And just as he had then, Harry Potter gave into its embrace once more.

-x-x-x-x-x-

~ Review please ~

A/N – 1. Legend –

• Coracis - Siege Engine spell - capable of blasting apart a full room - equivalent to a high powered Confringo added with the force of a battering ram.

• Terra Diffringo – The earth shaker spell. Very power-consuming. Usually used as a last resort or for distraction.

• Orcus Cohereo – Death's embrace – The only known spell the uses the Deathly Hallows altogether. Given to Harry by Death itself. It forcefully binds the magical cores of the wizards using the Deathly hallows with the hallows themselves and as it is in their nature, the hallows embrace their magic and eventually their life force.