Categories > Books > Harry Potter > King's Cross
King's Cross 707 AU DH
Blankly Harry tried to clear his mind, control the primal fear that had just reached into his body. “Death” he whispered aloud involuntary. The Death...capital letter and all. Was he the same one The Three Brothers tricked? Was he out for revenge on the last living relative of those brothers? What fate awaits those met personally by Death. Was he going to hell? Was this the start of punishment, punishment Dumbledore was spared, but he and what was left of Tom would partake in?
“Punishment of souls has nothing to do with me.” the pale man spoke “The fact you believe I have interest in your or Tom Riddles soul, is Irritating.” as if discussing vagrants in an alley way. “Let me make sure you understand this so you don't presume to have a say here.” in a steady almost hungry breath he began. “I am old Harry, far older than anything you can comprehend and here you are wondering what plots and plans I have in store for your souls existence. Do you know why I am so disenchanted with this discussion already?” letting harry shrug his shoulders still trying to analyze what was happening “Imagine you were sitting on a bench just like this and a single celled bacteria began talking with you. Asking and imaging you have detailed plans and plots for its life. You wouldn't be angry, but you would not care about the life of an amoeba and I do not care about the life or souls of those you have ever met. This is a world that just began crawling out of the ooze in a solar system that is an infant in age. I have seen the infinite worlds crumble and become.” another breath “So tell me why could I care about you or your “war”.”
The hallows was all that flashed through his mind. What were the hallows then? What was the point in becoming the master of death. “How did three brothers best you then?”
“I never met any three brothers. What they encountered and manipulated was one of my Reapers. Harvesters of souls. They Entrapped the reaper and extorted three items. Do not think you have mastered death Harry Potter. You only have tools not the ability.”
Every question only opened up more. One of these times he would like to just have someone explain to him what the hell was going on. “Hell” does this mean I am going to hell he left unspoken. He had to know if everything he had done condemned him.
“I have nothing to do with judgment of souls, but I do know Tom Riddle will not be going to either Heaven or Hell. His soul will go to purgatory.”
Angered “Purgatory..he should be in Hell with the rest of the damned!” if there was one thing he knew was Voldemort deserved Hell.
“Hell if for Human souls...Purgatory is for the Others. He has gone too far for his soul to be of use in either place. Enough of perdition and paradise It is not the point of this discussion.
Anger in his eyes he nodded to his now quite terrifying host.
“You have always been close to this place Harry. From Halloween until you picked up Draco's wand and became the master of all three Hallows. It was your mother at first. She discovered the “trick” your ancestor first used and set a trap.” The pride in Harry's eyes must have shown because the being continues “Three souls for bait. Your fathers, Hers, and yours. Yes yours Harry she used you as well. When Riddle went through your house each kill called to my reapers, specifically a special one to be exact. A reaper of the magical, of those things which can fight the supernatural with there own power.”
“What did she want a reaper for..wouldn't one have came anyways.” Harry wanted to move on with the story and find out why she would involve him with death.
A blank stare stayed on the mans face and he continued the story “The subsequent death of your mother charged the runes. Before she died she added one last change to the summoning runes. She anchored the entire ritual on you. She marked you Harry. When the killing curse struck you it completed the ritual. The reaper was bound to the anchor, with Tom Riddle there a third soul could be harvested and a bargain was made. That should have been the end of Riddle then, but as you know the ritual remained incomplete as long as his soul was floating in pieces in the world it could not be Harvested.”
“She bound me to death.” he could only imagine what that would mean.
“Yes and left my reaper with a bargain unpaid.” the statement was simple, but in the world of magic there are no unpaid debts. Harry knew that because of the Goblet of Fire. “My reaper was dispersed and I two souls uncollected. It was the first time I would hear of you Harry.” intense eyes staring into Harry's. “Souls do not stay put. The souls in the ritual went the first Vessel they could. Same as what remained in you home of Tom Riddle's soul.”
This was more than Harry could have ever understood he needed help, but he was on his own once again. “What about my parents soul's? I've seen them they moved on.” looking for any proof this Thing was lying that it wasn't' death and none of this was real. “I talked with them with the stone.”
“You spoke to them yes, but the stone makes it possible to communicate with any soul. Living and those that have gone.” a quick motion of his hand and Harry stopped trying to interrupt. “Now I will explain something.” leaning his cane against the bench Death reached for his case. “We will make a bargain.” it wasn't a question.
Breathing shallowly Harry asked the right question “What are the terms?”
“I want Tom Marvolo Riddle's soul. All of it.” it was a simple enough request if you were Death, but to a mortal it seemed impossible. “In return I will allow you two choices.” leaning forward “First you can return to the living try and defeat your enemies. Your parents souls will go on and your soul will be complete and unmarred .”
What on earth else could he offer? It was all Harry wanted right there. He lives and his parents souls are free.
“The alternative is give me...Your soul and in exchange you take this.” Opening the bag bright light began to seemingly pour out of it Death reached in and pulled out what looked like a scythe. Handing handle first Harry reached out for seemingly without thinking.
Taking it into his hand he knew what it was as it transformed. The Death Stick. It became his wand, the same broken so long ago. “What will happen to my soul?'
“I will hold onto it.” he said simply like he was saying Harry could leave his bike at his house “Souls are far too powerful to be left alone.”
Harry Knew that was all too true. “What would I become?” would losing his soul leave him worse than Voldemort.
“You would be a true Master of the Hallows” It was a simple statement. “until your vessel has withered and can no longer sustain itself you would join the ranks of my reapers. You would be the watcher of the Magical. Reaping that which can sustain itself even in death.” taking a breath he finished quietly “what is your decision?”
Decision..its not a decision. Mortal life. “M..” he stopped short. After mortal life where was he headed? Hero or not he committed suicide, killed, lusted, blasphemed, and besides hes a wizard no one said he got to go to heaven anyways.
Reap Souls, everything about that sounded disgusting, horrible, but he could always keep an eye on things in the magical world. Make sure they were always safe. He knew Death had been patient with him, but even he knew that the Pale Horseman would not suffer his questions or thought then. A bargain would be struck. You can't say no to Death.
“I'm Ready.”
Changing the wand to his left hand it became a scythe. Harry's right hand reached to shake the thin mans hand.
Blankly Harry tried to clear his mind, control the primal fear that had just reached into his body. “Death” he whispered aloud involuntary. The Death...capital letter and all. Was he the same one The Three Brothers tricked? Was he out for revenge on the last living relative of those brothers? What fate awaits those met personally by Death. Was he going to hell? Was this the start of punishment, punishment Dumbledore was spared, but he and what was left of Tom would partake in?
“Punishment of souls has nothing to do with me.” the pale man spoke “The fact you believe I have interest in your or Tom Riddles soul, is Irritating.” as if discussing vagrants in an alley way. “Let me make sure you understand this so you don't presume to have a say here.” in a steady almost hungry breath he began. “I am old Harry, far older than anything you can comprehend and here you are wondering what plots and plans I have in store for your souls existence. Do you know why I am so disenchanted with this discussion already?” letting harry shrug his shoulders still trying to analyze what was happening “Imagine you were sitting on a bench just like this and a single celled bacteria began talking with you. Asking and imaging you have detailed plans and plots for its life. You wouldn't be angry, but you would not care about the life of an amoeba and I do not care about the life or souls of those you have ever met. This is a world that just began crawling out of the ooze in a solar system that is an infant in age. I have seen the infinite worlds crumble and become.” another breath “So tell me why could I care about you or your “war”.”
The hallows was all that flashed through his mind. What were the hallows then? What was the point in becoming the master of death. “How did three brothers best you then?”
“I never met any three brothers. What they encountered and manipulated was one of my Reapers. Harvesters of souls. They Entrapped the reaper and extorted three items. Do not think you have mastered death Harry Potter. You only have tools not the ability.”
Every question only opened up more. One of these times he would like to just have someone explain to him what the hell was going on. “Hell” does this mean I am going to hell he left unspoken. He had to know if everything he had done condemned him.
“I have nothing to do with judgment of souls, but I do know Tom Riddle will not be going to either Heaven or Hell. His soul will go to purgatory.”
Angered “Purgatory..he should be in Hell with the rest of the damned!” if there was one thing he knew was Voldemort deserved Hell.
“Hell if for Human souls...Purgatory is for the Others. He has gone too far for his soul to be of use in either place. Enough of perdition and paradise It is not the point of this discussion.
Anger in his eyes he nodded to his now quite terrifying host.
“You have always been close to this place Harry. From Halloween until you picked up Draco's wand and became the master of all three Hallows. It was your mother at first. She discovered the “trick” your ancestor first used and set a trap.” The pride in Harry's eyes must have shown because the being continues “Three souls for bait. Your fathers, Hers, and yours. Yes yours Harry she used you as well. When Riddle went through your house each kill called to my reapers, specifically a special one to be exact. A reaper of the magical, of those things which can fight the supernatural with there own power.”
“What did she want a reaper for..wouldn't one have came anyways.” Harry wanted to move on with the story and find out why she would involve him with death.
A blank stare stayed on the mans face and he continued the story “The subsequent death of your mother charged the runes. Before she died she added one last change to the summoning runes. She anchored the entire ritual on you. She marked you Harry. When the killing curse struck you it completed the ritual. The reaper was bound to the anchor, with Tom Riddle there a third soul could be harvested and a bargain was made. That should have been the end of Riddle then, but as you know the ritual remained incomplete as long as his soul was floating in pieces in the world it could not be Harvested.”
“She bound me to death.” he could only imagine what that would mean.
“Yes and left my reaper with a bargain unpaid.” the statement was simple, but in the world of magic there are no unpaid debts. Harry knew that because of the Goblet of Fire. “My reaper was dispersed and I two souls uncollected. It was the first time I would hear of you Harry.” intense eyes staring into Harry's. “Souls do not stay put. The souls in the ritual went the first Vessel they could. Same as what remained in you home of Tom Riddle's soul.”
This was more than Harry could have ever understood he needed help, but he was on his own once again. “What about my parents soul's? I've seen them they moved on.” looking for any proof this Thing was lying that it wasn't' death and none of this was real. “I talked with them with the stone.”
“You spoke to them yes, but the stone makes it possible to communicate with any soul. Living and those that have gone.” a quick motion of his hand and Harry stopped trying to interrupt. “Now I will explain something.” leaning his cane against the bench Death reached for his case. “We will make a bargain.” it wasn't a question.
Breathing shallowly Harry asked the right question “What are the terms?”
“I want Tom Marvolo Riddle's soul. All of it.” it was a simple enough request if you were Death, but to a mortal it seemed impossible. “In return I will allow you two choices.” leaning forward “First you can return to the living try and defeat your enemies. Your parents souls will go on and your soul will be complete and unmarred .”
What on earth else could he offer? It was all Harry wanted right there. He lives and his parents souls are free.
“The alternative is give me...Your soul and in exchange you take this.” Opening the bag bright light began to seemingly pour out of it Death reached in and pulled out what looked like a scythe. Handing handle first Harry reached out for seemingly without thinking.
Taking it into his hand he knew what it was as it transformed. The Death Stick. It became his wand, the same broken so long ago. “What will happen to my soul?'
“I will hold onto it.” he said simply like he was saying Harry could leave his bike at his house “Souls are far too powerful to be left alone.”
Harry Knew that was all too true. “What would I become?” would losing his soul leave him worse than Voldemort.
“You would be a true Master of the Hallows” It was a simple statement. “until your vessel has withered and can no longer sustain itself you would join the ranks of my reapers. You would be the watcher of the Magical. Reaping that which can sustain itself even in death.” taking a breath he finished quietly “what is your decision?”
Decision..its not a decision. Mortal life. “M..” he stopped short. After mortal life where was he headed? Hero or not he committed suicide, killed, lusted, blasphemed, and besides hes a wizard no one said he got to go to heaven anyways.
Reap Souls, everything about that sounded disgusting, horrible, but he could always keep an eye on things in the magical world. Make sure they were always safe. He knew Death had been patient with him, but even he knew that the Pale Horseman would not suffer his questions or thought then. A bargain would be struck. You can't say no to Death.
“I'm Ready.”
Changing the wand to his left hand it became a scythe. Harry's right hand reached to shake the thin mans hand.
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