1 Chapter 1 – Death, Prophecies, Scars and Number 7 Part 1.

AVADA KEDAVRA!

Sickly green light of the unforgivable blanketed his vision and then darkness. No longer could he hear the rustling of the trees in the Forbidden Forest, nor could feel the breaths of anticipation or trepidation from the Death Eaters. He, for the first time, felt blessed nothing. No fears nor sorrow towards the fact that he had to lay his life down. No joy at the fact that he might be reuniting with his parents. Just nothing. And then there was light.

He opened his eyes to a vista covered in white. He is currently laying on the floor without a stich of clothing on him. Neither did he feel the familiar weight of his glasses. Then again, his vision is not blurry like is usually is without glasses, no it is as if he gained perfect vision overnight. He got up to his feet and looked for any indication as to where he was. He saw a door to his right and posted on the door was a note.

Think of some clothes to wear and they shall appear, obviously you do not want to be butt naked with your meeting with Death.

Love,

Monsieur Death

Death. 'That's right, I just ate a killing curse to my face again, not that I remember much of the first time other than my mother's pleading.' He imagined a simple pair of black socks, trainers, and blue jeans with a grey t-shirt. Quickly donning his chosen apparel, he made his way to the door. Opening it, he was taken aback by the sight in front of him.

Currently, he is standing in a luxury apartment, likes of which he has not seen before. The décor is tastefully decorated, the furniture, wallpaper, and other knickknacks none of which seems out of place. That was not what caught Harry Potter off guard. No. What he is currently gaping at is the man wearing grey sweatpants, green t-shirt with the words "I am Death" displayed across the torso of his t-shirt yelling at the TV.

"Stupid ICC, why the fuck can't the match be a draw! IT WAS A LOW SCORING MATCH WITH EXCITEMENT FROM BOTH SIDES WHICH WENT TO A DRAW. AND BY THE WAY WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK WAS THAT OVERTHROW CALL BY THE UMPIRE. MADNESS, I TELL YOU! AND THEN- "

"Umm Mr. Death?"

"SON OF A SUPERNOVA! I AM ON A GOOD RANT SO SHUSH! Anyways where was I. AH YES AND AFTER THAT PIECE OF SHIT UMPIRING, IT CAME TO A DRAW AND THEN AFTER A SUPER OVER, WHICH ALSO WENT TO A DRAW. YOU WOULD THINK - and by the way both teams played well, despite me pulling for the Kiwis you know and Ben Stokes what a guy I say, must make some deathly promotions when lads make it here! - YOU WOULD THINK THEY WOULD SAY FUCK IT, IT'S A DRAW. BUT NOOOOOO LETS GIVE THE FUCKING WORLD CUP TO THE TEAM WITH MORE BOUNDARIES! BOUNDARIES I TELL YOU!"

"Uhm Mr. Death sir? I have – "

The man known as death whirled around to see Harry Potter fidgeting away at his front door. With a sheepish smile he exclaimed "Ah, Mr. Potter! Welcome to my humble abode. I am Monsieur Death. And yes, my first name is Monsieur. Don't know why though. I think The Big Bang did for shits and giggles if you ask me."

While sanctimoniously nodding to himself, he snapped his fingers and instantly changed to a black three-piece suit, with an emerald tie and black shoes. "Much better! I will be remiss of my station if I do not present myself properly. Proper workplace and all that jazz. Not a word to my wife Fate though, she will make me sleep in the couch for next 1000 years. Yessir!"

'Uhh I just saw you yelling at a television about some cricket match in your sweatpants!'

He took a closer look at death. Tanned skin, black hair, and blue eyes and seemingly a tall man with seemingly broad shoulders and think arms. His defined and high cheek bones combined with his other features screams of a man of power and influence. He looks like the man every man wants to be.

"Apologies for that unsightly outburst, that was the 2019 Cricket World Cup Finals. You see when you are immortal, you get to watch all the cricket you want. I mean a Test match can go on for 5 days, I can only play Pokémon games so many times. Okay Harry Potter, my new source of entertain- correction new charge! Follow me to my study please."

And with that, while whistling a jaunty tune, the entity known as Death made his way into his study. It took a few seconds for Harry Potter to register that Death was skipping away. He followed him, while still bewildered by the turn of events. Death reached the door and held it open for Harry to enter. Harry entered the room, still very much caught off guard. Seating himself at the comfortable chair behind his desk, he motioned towards the empty chair in front of him. Harry sat on the chair and stared blankly.

Death noticed the blank look on his face. 'Good, the little skit I did shocked him good. A bit of a blank slate would help him make a more objective decision.' A warm smile crept up to his face. He remained silent for a few minutes, and then he started, "You have lived a very difficult life Harry. I cannot tell you how glad I am that you turned out to be such a fantastic young man. Any other human being would have succumbed to their inner demons and would have gone down a destructive path. Yet you persevered, for that, well done Harry."

He maintained his smile as he observed the changes in Harry's body. His body seemed to sag in relief and a small smile worked its way to his face. His face tinted with a pink flush, clearly not an individual used to honest praise.

After a few moments of comfortable silence he continued, "A child who was left to the wolves with little to no support from those he should have received some, those whom he truly could trust can counted by one hand."

If Fate herself was not tearing that White Whiskered Wanker a new one, I would be. "Ten years of suffering from his own blood and flesh, unnecessary tribulations by the one who were supposed to guide him, constantly left to the worst of humanity. Yet he conquers."

Harry felt and odd sense of joy at the praise the mythical figure was giving him. Yet deep down, he feels that he has not enough. He sacrificed his life! He did not conquer. He died without raising his wand. He let the curse hit so his enemy can be mortal once again. He died, thus he conquered none.

Death saw the conflict in Harry Potter's eyes. Without wavering his smile, he looked at the journal sitting in front of him. He opened the journal and flicked to the page he was looking for. He smiled wider. "October 31, 1991. Harry Potter, without knowing any form of defensive magic, selflessly attempted to save a girl whom he barely knew from the troll. Then the Chamber of Secrets fiasco, the tragedy of Sirius Black, your exemplary display of moral fiber in the second task, your actions in the third task and then your sacrifice today. Time and time again you have overcome overwhelming odds. If I cannot classify that as conquering great odds, I do not know what is."

Harry opened his mouth to refute, but nothing came out. He slowly closed his mouth and continued looking at Death with a bewildered expression in his face. Clearly, he understands that he had help in all his "adventures". Right?

Death snorted, "Even if that gargantuan snake was blinded by a phoenix, it is still a tall task for a fully competent team of Aurors to take down a thousand year old Basilisk, much less a pre-teen with a sword. Obviously, there was an element of luck with the phoenix tears, but that does not mean you did not turn the tides on your lonesome."

Where most men his age would be crowing at the praise, he his receiving, the lad acts as if praise were the last thing he expected. Now, enough brow beating, let us get to why we are here.

"But congratulating you alone is not why the two of are here today. No, we are here to discuss all potential avenues that you can take from here."

That last sentence only seemed to deepen Harry's confusion. 'I thought I am done after death and that I finally get to meet my family and pass on. What does he mean by other options?'

Death cleared his throat. He waved his hand and a bottle of whiskey and two glasses appeared on his desk. He poured the alcohol into the two glasses and moved one towards Harry. "Lagavulin, my favorite whiskey. Or rather my favorite whiskey after watching Parks and Rec, a future mockumentary. That Ron Swanson fellow is my idol. You see, time does not apply here. The past, present and future of your world is easily accessible in this plane of existence. Really does help keep away my boredom you know. Muggle entertainment is really the shit," he rambled while taking a few sips.

Harry took a tentative sip from his glass. The alcohol felt stronger than fire-whiskey. He frowned, "What other options. As you probably know, I am very dead right now. I thought the only option for me is to stay dead and move one to the afterlife like everyone else."

"Ahh that would be true if you are completely dead you see. There are a few reasons why you are not completely dead. Fate has deemed it inappropriate for you to die."

Harry's eyebrows shot up to his unruly raven locks. He quelled the desire to abruptly stand and yell out profanities. As he looked over at Death, his smile still has not fallen. There is no point in being angry at Death.' Rather I don't think it will do my any favors here. Let's calm down and figure what to do.' Harry counted to 10 ten mentally. Death seemed to be amused by his antics.

"Good. You managed to not jump the gun as the muggles say. I think we should start at the very beginning of your troubles, the prophecy. Despite the vague nature of the prophesy, you are by all intends and purposes supposed to kill him or at the very least, make him mortal again.

Fate deemed you as her champion to not only remove the parasite Tom Riddle but possibly stimulate the process of promoting equality within the magical world. Just rendering him mortal would barely satisfy the requirements of her prophesy.

In a sense, immortality is no way for a human to live thus removing his soul anchors pull him back to the world of living. All living is subjected to death, so if you are immortal, you are not alive in a mortal sense. All Fate's prophecies are intended for mortals after all. The Flamels were not immortal, their intent was to extend their lives not to live forever. Humans are not equipped for immortality, hell most are not equipped for lives over 2 centuries. If you had completely vanquished him, well you no longer had to worry about a psychopathic megalomaniac trying to kill you and your loved ones.

Of course, either would happen in due time and really any deviation from the norm tends to correct itself overtime. I mean you are not the only champion Fate has ever picked, she would likely pick another one way or another. Point is, don't worry, be happy. Whether other people suffer should not be your concern. You my friend can consider yourself to have done enough anyways, since you did render good ol' Moldywarts mortal again."

At the end of his spiel, Death gave a self-satisfied and sagely nod. How he can do such conflicting expressions is solely a mystery of death.