Dump

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- Hello again, Harry Potter. - Emerging from the blackness, I found myself sitting in a chair in a familiar light-filled room with no windows or doors.

- Hello," I mumbled, trying to figure out what exactly had happened.

- Hello? - Death looked surprised. - Is that a courtesy? Get rid of it, it doesn't suit you. Although, maybe I should have had a good dig at your head from the beginning to teach you some manners....

- What happened? - I asked, not reacting to his statement. Shaking my head, I looked around and realised that I wasn't in any pain. I was still wearing the same jeans and T-shirt, but they smelled nice, like they'd just been washed. Death was also wearing the same suit as when we first met. Seems like someone should change their wardrobe more often.

- I'll show you. It's better to see it once, as they say. And I have a normal suit, I like it. - I cringed-reading my thoughts had been having a vividly negative effect lately, but he didn't comment on it.

A large mirror appeared in front of us, hanging in the air. At first it reflected the surroundings, but then the image rippled and the device turned into a kind of television, broadcasting a recording of the events in a room I was painfully familiar with.

- Unfortunately, there's no sound, but I think you'll understand," Death said. I noticed the expression with which he was looking at Flamel, and the answer immediately followed: - yes, this man was able to hide from me quite well. He and his wife have managed what almost no one else has. But that's okay, now that the elixir is over, their time is coming to an end. I can't wait to see them again.

Meanwhile, on the screen, everything was indeed clear without sound. Dumbledore and Flamel, seeing that I had blacked out, first tried to bring me to my senses by improvised means, and when they failed, they decided to use magic. My body, lying on the bed, subjected to mental torture, was pierced by all sorts of spells, which I could not recognise. Flamel seemed desperate enough to release a red beam at me, voicing the spell he was casting. I could read from his lips that my body had been affected by the second Unforgivable.

When that didn't work either, he sat down on the edge of the bed and slumped his shoulders frustratedly. Dumbledore, for his part, tried to use the mind-reading spell on me again, which I could now recognise from the movements of my wand, but after a few seconds he broke contact and stepped aside. They discussed something for a while longer, gesturing with their hands, and then Dumbledore simply waved his hand and called for his phoenix, which grabbed my body with its claws and vanished.

I was silent, unable to say the obvious thing. Death watched me with interest, trying to make sense of my thoughts. Finally, I let out a long breath and covered my face with my hands, shaking my head.

- This is unbelievable," I mumbled, feeling fear tugging at my throat. Would this be the end of my story? Would Harry Potter have such an ignominious end? To die because of two leaders of light who poisoned me with a potion, in some basement with no way to contact anyone. What could be more romantic. And what about Fleur? She doesn't know what's wrong with me or where I am, but through our connection, she's bound to sense that something terrible has happened. So I've broken my word and left her alone... What about Dobby? I hope he takes care of my failing wife.

No. I'm not giving up that easily. I took my hands away from my face and looked at Death with a hard stare. All I've been doing the last few days is feeling sorry for myself or squirming in fear, and it's time to stop doing that. The only person sitting in front of me, if he can be called a person, is the only one who can influence the situation. And, after all, there was a reason I was back in front of him right after my demise, because this time there was no nobility in my death.

- Well done, Harry. I like your ability to pull yourself together quickly. You really are here for a reason. At first I was disappointed and wanted to just let you pass, but then I decided that as the new owner of two of my gifts at once, you could be honoured with another chance. Besides, you still haven't fulfilled your mission - Tom Riddle still continues to avoid me. And if you don't deal with it, maybe no one will. - He paused, as if disengaged from the conversation, but soon continued: - Don't think it's always going to be like this now. I'm not your wish-granting genie. I'm used to taking lives, not giving them.

- I don't know if I deserve a chance like this again," I said, my eyes lowered. "Given how easily I was caught and killed, there's no guarantee it won't happen again soon. I'm too weak for such proceedings. Sometimes, I feel like I'm sitting in a sandbox, picking at it with a toy shovel, and behind me are several excavators capable of demolishing the entire sandbox with a single stroke. Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful for your trust and I won't back down until the very end, it's just that you're the only one I can discuss all this with. And by the way, why didn't you show up while I was in captivity, because you must have heard me calling you?

- I didn't show up because I had to. Don't think you're so special that you can call Death at any time. You just wanted to complain about your hard life, and I'm not interested in that kind of thing. You have no idea what a really hard life is. I've seen countless of them. - I felt the slight resentment in his words directed at me, but then he softened. - Besides, I couldn't show up, because that would reflect in your memory, which has been so fascinating to study. You've probably realised that the block in your memories that they've never been able to break was put there by me. And it's not an easy thing to do. There's all sorts of information hidden in there that you shouldn't know, being just Harry, as well as my interference. In fact, Dumbledore never found out anything. And if you had opened your mouth less, he would have known even less, and maybe this whole thing wouldn't have happened at all.

I thought about what he said. The fact that I often do rash things that make me suffer later was clear enough. But could it be that even my words led to failure? The answer came immediately: it could. All the things I'd said to Dumbledore, about his arrangement with Snape or the cursed hand, I'd said to knock him off his game, to show him that he wasn't so omniscient, to prove that Harry Potter shouldn't be written off. But for the Headmaster it wasn't just a jab - it was a serious blow to his ego, because there was something going on that he didn't understand. And that's what made him want to dig into my head in the first place. That, not some suspicion that I might be the new Dark Lord.

- It's good to know you're not a bad judge of judgement, Harry. Albeit a little late. I hope you find it useful in the future, because if you don't change anything, I'll let you pass me by next time. - The threat worked. I liked this life, and I didn't want to give it up.

- But wait. Dumbledore's had two of your gifts all this time, too.

- So? If he were dead right now, I'd be offering him the same thing I'm offering you. Or maybe you wouldn't. They're my gifts, and I alone decide what to do with the person who has them. Either way, all he has now is the stone. Make sure it stays that way.

- So, do I understand correctly that you can revive me in the same body, at the same time, without demanding anything in return? Sounds too good to be true. Last time, you said I earned it with a noble death, and the place and time of my new life was completely random. Now the reward is even greater, but the payoff is noticeably less. I'm sorry, but you don't seem like someone who would give gratuitous gifts to random people. - I was expecting a catch and couldn't believe I'd be so lucky. When I saw my dead body in the image, I felt something inside of me snap, and that light of hope that flickered after his words beckoned unbelievably strongly.

- You see, Harry, you and I have very different ideas. For you, it's an opportunity to return, to finish what you started, to reunite with your beloved and live a long, happy life. For me, it's just an adjustment of plans as I throw you back into the cauldron of this world. I can add some new task if you want, but you haven't even managed one, so that can wait. Just remember that you owe me now.

I nodded, agreeing with his thoughts and realising that perhaps killing Tom Riddle wasn't the hardest thing I had yet to do in my life. Death, meanwhile, continued:

- 'Besides, it's much simpler this time. All those two men did was miscalculate their strength. They wanted so badly to break through the block I put in place that they literally burned out most of your mind. Your heart, unable to take the strain, stopped. If last time I had to operate on entire souls, now it is enough a small point intervention to bring you back to normal. It won't require much effort. - Again he seemed to switch off, freezing in one pose. When he came back, he looked at me with interest - Besides, I'll be interested to see your reaction when you return to the world of the living.

I wish I could say I was intrigued by him, but his smile made me uncomfortable.

- Couldn't you bring me back a little sooner? Like when Dumbledore first showed up at Delacourt Manor.

- No, I won't adjust the time. It's a lot more complicated than that, and frankly, I don't feel like it. So you'll be back in the same body, bruised and fingerless. You should be grateful for that, too.

- I am grateful, you can see it in my mind. - I meant what I said, the chance to come back was worth everything.

- I see it. But I also see my own self-doubt. It's strange, when we first met, I didn't see that in you, you were more direct and brash. It seems you've completely merged with this body's past personality, which has made you softer. I don't know how this will affect future events, but it will be curious to watch. Now you must go, I have a new guest to meet. He's planning a very interesting experiment in one of the realities. You'll notice I've been watching him at times during our conversation. It seems he has failed, and now he will be here.

Death stood up from his chair and began to transform before my eyes, covered in a black haze. A few seconds later, standing across from me was no longer the familiar middle-aged man, but a stunning brunette in a black evening gown. She had pale skin and bright red lipstick on her lips. She gracefully sat down on the same chair and threw one leg over the other, causing the dress to ride up slightly, revealing her thighs.

- That's not fair! - I exclaimed, standing up, "Why should anyone else see you like that, but me?

She waved her hand, no longer looking in my direction, and I didn't get a chance to finish, falling back into the darkness.

***

I woke up abruptly this time, as if I'd been in deep water for a long time and had just surfaced. Eyes wide open, I inhaled deeply and coughed. All the pain I'd forgotten about came back at me with renewed force: a tearing headache, a gash on my left pinky finger, bruises and cuts that had come from nowhere, all at the same time, and I couldn't stand up and look around. All I could realise at the moment was that I was on the street. A slight breeze and clouds floating lazily overhead confirmed it. I also realised quite quickly that I smelled awful. It smelled worse than it did after six months in Azkaban. That being said, I had no wand, and I didn't know what to do next.

For the first few minutes I expected one of my captors to notice that I wasn't dead again and the torture to continue, but nothing happened. After breathing and enduring the most acute bouts of pain, I began to rise slowly.

Seeing the surroundings made it clear to me that the surrounding stench was only partly my fault. It was also clear how Albus dealt with the waste material: I was lying on the highest pile of rubbish, in the middle of a huge landfill. Mountains of waste surrounded me on all sides and from where I stood I could see it all spread out for hundreds of metres around. I could see where my bruises had come from - the nasty firebird had just thrown me down, not wanting to get dirty.

Dumbledore threw me in the dump. Like rubbish. A lot of heroes like to say they've been treated inappropriately, but how about this? That old bastard literally threw me away. No funeral, no goodbyes, my body was going to rot in this place and no one would ever know the truth.

With each passing moment, I felt the stench surrounding me on all sides more and more. It was as if someone had collected a bag full of rotten eggs, put it over my head and tied it up. Given this, and my physical condition, I realised that I couldn't even make it to the end of the dump. And where to go, anyway? It was the same picture in all directions, and I didn't even know what city or country I was in.

Deciding that I had to get out of here as quickly as possible, I realised I needed help and it was time to use my heavy artillery.

- Dobby! - I shouted into the void, realising that no outsiders could hear me here anyway. There might be locals around here, but if they hadn't shown up when Phoenix had appeared in the middle of the dump with the teenager's body in his claws, they wouldn't show up again. The houseboy was gone, and I had already decided that Dumbledore had caught up with him when a loud pop sounded next to me.

- Harry's master po...tter...sir! - Dobby couldn't keep his footing on the pile of plastic bottles he'd emerged on, and rolled down the mountain as he continued to speak. When he reappeared in front of me, he continued as if nothing had happened: - Dobby is so glad you are alive! Mistress Fleur cried, and said you were dead, and then she said you weren't, and Dobby always knew you weren't, for if you were, Dobby wouldn't know, but Dobby knew you weren't, and Mistress Fleur now knows you weren't, and....

- Dobby! - I shouted a bit louder than I wanted to. I didn't want to add a twitching eye to the list of my current physical attributes. - I'm not dead, Dobby, it's all right. - The pain in my head was building up again, and I felt like I was going to pass out. - Look, mate, I need somewhere to hide and heal. So nobody knows where I am. Can you hide me and then go to Fleur and tell her I'm fine and I'll be back soon?

Dobby nodded vigorously at the word 'can', as if he was sure that nothing was impossible for him.

- Dobby will do everything, Master Harry Potter sir, don't worry.

I really wanted to worry, for knowing the zeal of the houseboy, he might have decided to hide me somewhere on Mars. But I didn't have the energy left for any further instructions or arguments, so I just put my hand on his shoulder, trusting Dobby completely with my life.