Begining of the end

For a second, Harry was unable even to muster the energy to move a single muscle. Slowly he opened his eyes and looked down at his hands in his lap, where he had put them before sinking into his meditative stage. He moved his fingers a little, stiff, and slowly he clenching his fists as hard as possible before relaxing them.

The meditation had worked precisely as he had hoped; it had even performed better than he could have guessed it would. It felt as if all the memories were closer than before, like the wall that held them had broken and slowly started to leak.

Harry exhaled slowly and felt how his body was unnaturally cold, and his magic core felt more tender than before. He put a hand over his heart and felt how fast it was beating; he leaned forward a little when the stinging feeling grabbed him.

It was almost painful to think about the memories. To think about what had happened and feel the love Harald had for the black-haired trickster prince. The feeling was now invading Harry as a sled hammer. How was it even possible to love someone he had not even met? Not in this lifetime anyway, and even if he found Loki, there was no guarantee whatsoever that he still felt the same for him.

'….Give up….'

Harry froze; he both heard and felt the words caress against his magic. The voice had been so low, and he would surely have missed it if he hadn't been sitting here in silence. Harry sat completely still and waited for something more, anything, but nothing came. Maybe he had imagined it? But the voice had neither been his, what he knew, nor was it Harald's.

But at the same time, he did not dare to hope that it had been Loki that had tried to reach him because that was probably only wishful thinking. It also did not help that as soon as Harry tried to grab hold of the feeling, it slipped away. It was as if he tried to grab hold of water that just fell through his fingers.

On the bright side, Harry was now quite sure that this unnatural icy cold feeling had something to do with Loki. There was no other explanation. But the words that whispered through his soul had been a new experience, something he had not experienced in this body and something that made him feel uncomfortable. It had almost been forced, and he did not like what the feeling conveyed.

Harry felt a tickling sensation at the bottom of his cheek and down his throat, which made him blink in surprise. When had his vision become so blurred? he wiped away the tears that had decided to fall on his cheeks, but he could not make the tears stop flowing.

The world outside was now dark when Hermione returned to the library with extra candles and a tray of food. They had been sitting there long enough without absorbing any nutrition and was mostly only waiting for Harry to wake up again. And since she refused to let them get a house-elf, she picked up the things herself. Ron had decided to stretch a little and make a stop to the loo for a while. However, Hermione knew it was only an excuse to get away for a moment.

None of them had come close to an answer, and although she did not want to, she had to admit that she might not found their answer in any books. And she was starting to feel frustrated by the lack of information. How could she not? When her brother in everything but blood went through such a difficult situation, she could only stand on the sideline and wait for him to relive his memories. Not only that, he had gone through a creature heritage, but he also had an old soul mate somewhere in the universe, and they had no idea where he was.

Hermione stepped into the lovely and warm library, which was easily her favorite place in the house. Not because of the books, but how it felt safe. She immediately let her gaze fall on the only living soul inside, and he was where they had left him. But what she saw made her heart sink into her stomach. Hermione put down the tray at the nearest table before slowly walking over to him.

Harry did not even look up at her but tried to hold on to the small amount of dignity that he still had. But the icy, empty feeling did not help him, and it almost felt like the temperature around him had dropped as it spared through him. He felt so lost.

"You know," Hermione carefully stretched out a hand and wiped away his tears, "I remember a wise young woman saying that things we lost have a way of coming back to us in the end…. if not always in the way we expect. " Her words were met with a low wet chuckling.

"Do not give up, Harry. We will find him eventually, "

Harry nodded despite her hands and felt the warmth that sped through her touch. Hermione looked down at him for a moment, searching for something, before giving his cold sweaty forehead a light kiss before pulling away.

"Indeed a smart woman" Harry closed his eyes and exhaled choppily.

Hermione smiled. "That she was," she said before getting a more serious expression, "was it a bad memory?"

Harry shook his head, "No, on the contrary," he rubbed his face with both hands to wipe away the last evidence of his tears. It had been one of the best memories he had ever had so far.

"It's stupid, isn't it? " He said and swallowed the lump in this thought, "how you can go your whole life without knowing something that you so desperately needed.... but as soon as you've had it and it's gone, you never be the same again, and you suddenly can't live without it."

Hermione watched him for a moment before she decided not to pressure him for more information on what he meant by it.

"No, It is not stupid, "

She could only imagine what chaos his head was in right now, and she hated that she could not be of more help to him on this matter. She waved her wand so that the kettle of tea began to pour into two different cups. Harry stiffly rose from the floor to the table, took the first cup, and took a sip of the hot liquid. He felt the warm tee flow through his throat and leaving behind a warm sensation. He exhaled and felt more relaxed as he did.

"Thank you. I needed that," Harry said, pulling his finger over the edge of the cup. Feeling the warmth spread throw the edges.

Hermione took her own cup and sipped its sweet contents and nodded contentedly; it was perfect. She let her brown gaze fall on him again and could not help feeling that something had changed. The only question was what it was this time. Harry felt her gaze but decided not to point it out but picked up an apple; he knew what she was thinking without her tell him. He could feel it.

Harry chuckled low without any trace of humor in the sound, "One thing is for sure. My magic had now changed completely."

He looked down at the fruit in his hand and held it up, he let the energy flow through him, and the apple started to rise in the air. And with a precision he did not have before, he cut it into eight perfect pieces. Without saying a word, he angled his hand so that the parts could lie neatly on the plate, just like a bright yellow flower. It almost reminded him of the peonies on his arm.

"It's almost like I now have two different kinds of magic; they are the same but still different," he explained as he picked up an apple piece and put it in his mouth, and leaned against the massive table.

"I know that the new one has to be some kind of alien magic, and the other one is what I inherited from my parents; how is that even possible? to have two different sources of magic? "

"I do not know" Hermione ran a hand lightly through her bushy hair. "I have never heard of that happening before, but then again, what is happening to you is a first for me as well ... can you perhaps explain it better?"

Harry nodded a little uncertainly; he could at least try, but then again, he was not exactly sure how to put words to the feelings. He took up an apple slice and started to chew on it.

"it's like I have two pairs of glasses on; in one way, I feel this… .energy all around us," he said and looked up at the ceiling in the library. The whole mansion was covered in ancient magic, and he could now feel it move as he reached out to the feeling. It felt like the entire mansion was… alive somehow, and it was pushing back at him in a happy humming.

"This ... energy is guaranteed to come from the alien magic… "

"... It is probably sedir magic, I believe I read it in Asgardian mythology," interrupted Hermione, and Harry gave her a slightly amused expression.

"Sorry... continue, promise I will be silent."

Harry snorted. As if he ever could believe that, but he continued anyway, "... I'm sure, I know that Harald was in tune to nature and the energy everything that was sent out. I believe that it is what I can now sense like my awakening is making my body remember the feeling. I can touch it, see and manipulate it at will. But at the same time, I feel that it…. " Harry paused in his explanation and frowned. How could he explain this feeling? As if his magic was not threatening. It was calm, protective, but at the same time, he knew that the energy could explode outwards, like a storm. But the overwhelming feeling was still that it was meant to protect, and he said the same thing out loud.

Hermione made a low humming sound and bit her thumbnail as she wanted to figure something out. Harry could see how the gears in her brain worked to connect the information, and he waved his hand to let her verbally tell him her thoughts.

"Go ahead; I can see you almost burst in excitement. Do I need to take cover?"

Hermione scoffed, "I do not! You asked me to be quiet, and I 'am."

"Well, I telling you to speak up now, so speak."

"Alright, well I was thinking that.. perhaps… no, that cannot be that simple .. right?" she went to a pile of books and ran her fingers over their backs until she found what she was looking for and looked up the book.

"What did you find?" Harry asked

"I have been thinking .."

���No surprise there."

"Oh, hush you…Let me speak. I have thought that there is perhaps more to your connection with Harald than we know. Did you know that the Potters were masters at wards? "

Harry looked at her in surprise at that, "no... I did not"

"Well, they were. I found several books of different protective wards, spells, and amazing pentagrams. It would probably explain how your mom could save you before she died. Some wards have a heavy price to pay for making, "Hermione replied, holding her finger along a specific section of the book.

"And according to what you have told me about Harald, his magic is also leaning towards the more defensive side of things, right? and Loki was probably the more offensive in their relationship. Ying to his Yang and all that sorts."

"I can be offensive if I have to," Harry said, almost complaining, and a little bit offended; he had dueled with Voldemort, he could be offensive when he needed it. But then there was that little fact that he indeed had defeated the dark wizard with an expelliarmus spell. Making the elder wand snap out of Voldermorts hand as his body had slowly returned to ashes. But that didn't count; he had beaten him fair and square. Was a Pratrons also an offensive spell? He had no idea, he could protect himself from a hoard of the dark soul-sucking creature, but it could even kill them.

Harry had to hold back a groan as he started to see a red thread through all his action and use of spells, even if he didn't want to. He had killed several others, he could be aggressive, he could attack as well as defend himself, but he hated to admit it; he was better at defending.

"You think about it too much," Hermione said, closing the book. "Just because you're better at one thing does not mean you're bad at the other."

"I know….still," Harry muttered, letting go of that matter. They had other things to discuss.

He closed his eyes before holding out his hand and letting small particles accumulate in his hand and illuminate it. He frowned; even though he could use the energy, it was as if he was still miles away from really mastering it. But when he tried to shape it into a disk in front of them, it shone in a golden tone before slowly fading out, not doing anything. Hermione looked almost like a child on Christmas, making his face flush red.

"Alright, the other is our magic," he quickly continued where they had broken off before. He fingered his wand, which he had attached to his hip. "I cannot call on it in the same way as the sedir magic; I still have to use my wand,"

"Interesting," Hermione wrote down her notes before taking a sip from the hot drink in front of her, " perhaps there are two different kinds of magic out there? or maybe there is more to it… Maybe we are onto something new here, Harry, perhaps we can... "

Hermione's words subsided from his hearing as he felt a cold caress travel along his neck, and the cold feeling was back. And this time, it felt like someone was squishing his heart as the words spoke softly, more substantial than before.

'… ..You… .are pathetic….'

It was that voice again. Harry could feel how phantom nails now were pulled down from his neck and along his chest, leaving an unpleasant feeling in its track. Harry gasped for air as it felt like his lungs had stopped working and opened his eyes wide in shock. His hand shot out, just missing the table, as he stumbled to the side. His vision tilting, he tried to grasp the feeling that was shooting throw him. The familiar yet strange feeling of Lokis magic. But it had not been only Loki's voice that spoke, it had been many different voices all in one, but this feeling that was traveling through him, that was Loki.

"Harry? Harry! "Hermione's screaming tore him away from the feeling, and he blinked, puzzled as the feeling slowly disappeared from his chest as he stared unseeing down at the wooden floor.

" Harry? can you hear us? "

He slowly forced his head to move and saw the anxious face of both his best friends in front of him; he swallowed around the stone that had formed in his throat.

"did… did you hear that?"

Ron groaned as he flipped his head back, "Not this again," he had just come in when Hermione tried to get Harry's attention, and he had some kind of seizure, "I swear Harry, if the manor has a basilisk in the basement, I'm moving out." Han looked over to his friend, " Do... the Potters have a Basilisk? "

Harry laughed low, and his throat strung as he did. The last time he had heard a voice no one else could hear, it had been a gigantic snake. "No, no snake, promise, it was more of a male ... voice."

"Loki's voice?" Hermione asked anxiously. That had not been a fun experience.

"Yes… No… Maybe? I do not know! " Harry sighed, "At first I thought it was Loki's voice, but the second time I'm certain it was not." But the question was, how had he felt about the connection he shared with Loki? He could feel how his magical core and energy began to fuse every minute that passed after every memory he experienced. He no longer saw himself as either Harry or Harald, but it was like a tug-of-war inside of him, one fought for the power to drive his mind and body. It was confusing.

'I got you now… ... little seidr ...'

Once was chance, twice was a coincidence, but a third time... that was a pattern. The voice this time had been so full of hatred and maliciousness that he almost automatically wanted to throw himself away from the source. Hideaway from the owner of that voice, but he forced himself to stay.

'...Your mine now...'

Harry put a hand over his heart and felt the cold caressing his insides gather just below his navel. The cold feeling only grew inside him, drawing in his magic like a black hole that sucked up everything around him. And this time, he could feel the pond starting to leak out more and more, blue-tinted energy leaking in with green one.

Loki?… Harry blinked when he pressed his thought and magic against the cold feeling. This was the same feeling he experienced in the memories; he was entirely sure of it. Then it must mean that the voice still belonged to Loki!

'Who….NO!….' Loki's voice broke the other man's voice and struck hard against his magic; surprised, horror-mixed delight swirled around at the same time. Was Loki's voice, but at the same time not; it was as if there were several voices at once with an echo of the malicious one was still there, but he was the most prominent.

Harry tried to grasp the feeling of Loki desperately. It felt as if he could start crying with happiness over the familiar feeling while he also wanted nothing else than to shout at him to beware of the danger. It was so confusing

Where are you? Harry pushed the question over the connection; it almost felt like he was trying to get the words through something thick liquid.

It was hard, and he could not grasp it, but he thought the connection was there but somehow not stable. The link was burning hot, and at the same time, that horrible icy feeling that Harry had started to hate spread through him.

'No… WrOnG…. WronG….'

'Do not touch him! He's mine.....'

'NEVER….'

'N-o...h-Ur-t…i-m.'

Loki's voice died, and a wall suddenly slammed against Harry. And before he could perceive anything else, a low dark laugh echoed in his mind, and then it also ebbed out. The whole situation had not taken more than a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity, and the emptiness that filled him was… wrong.

For the first time, it felt like time had started to run out on them. Whoever had Loki entailed an indirect danger to them and, in the worst case, Death. A thought struck Harry from nowhere

"I need to talk with Death," as soon as those words left Harry, it felt right. Why had he not been thinking of that before? Why was he only now thinking of Death?

Both Ron and Hermione looked at him in surprise.

"Sorry…. but I believe I heard you wrong, mate"Ron sat as he rubbed his ear, " I just thought you said you should talk to Death, but that's completely bonkers, right? right? " he looked at them both doubtfully, and when no one told him that he had heard wrong,

"Right?" Ron squeaked out as he paled.

Hermione stared at Harry. "Actually, I believe that it is a good idea."

" WHAT?" Cried Ron, alarmed "are you out of your god dame mind? "

"Oh, come to one, Ron," Hermione rolled her eyes, "Harry is the master of Death; he has all of the hallows. And it is as he said, perhaps we have been looking at the problem in the wrong way all this time, it is worth a shot."

Ron stared at his girlfriend. "Alright, now I know I'm going bonkers; I think I just heard Hermione say we have been wasting time reading a mountain worth of books?"

She raised her head and put her nose in the air. "Knowledge learned is never a bad thing, Ronald; perhaps you should try it more often."

"Yeah, right," he muttered. They did not have to exaggerate.

"Give it a rest, Ron, you never win that argument, " Harry grinned as he walked away from them with a new determination in his steps," you know that"

"And where are you going?" Hermione asked after him

"To meditate again in another room, so that Ron won't blow a gasket when we have a special visitor" Harry grinned as he raised his hand and called for a whole apple as he walked away and smiled when he heard a gruff 'I won't do that' and 'show off' as he held back a grin and left.

~`*´~

The feeling that surrounded him was strange.

Harry had never really appreciated the idea that he was the master of Death, and honestly, he had not spoken to Death since the first time he had whispered in his ear after Voldemort's defeat. And even then, he had only said that they would be talking at a later date as it was not a good time right then. Hopefully, this was the right time, but it did not make him any less nervous.

Harry knew that Death is an abstract entity, the pure embodiment of the end of life. The last stop in life, or he used to think that, and then the whole reincarnation thing messed that up for him. It was the Death that loomed in everyone's minds and life. But it was also that Death he was going to try and speak to, hopefully.

Harry knew that sometimes the thoughts about Death went so far that people forgot everything else but this final mystery of the universe. The final aspect of life that they could not understand, that they could not control over. And that scared them, and with that, the fear of Death could grow larger and kept the living from living their life. He had seen it so many times; he had seen it in Voldermorts attempt to trick Death of his rightful claim of his soul.

Harry exhales slowly. He had to let his thoughts go, for now at least.

Meditation had so far been the best solution to his problem, and right now, he needed it to work. He could honestly say that he was starting to feel a little desperate and .. frustrated ... In any case, he needed to find Loki, whatever he was. He emptied his brain of all scattering thoughts and focusing on one thing, and this time it was his will to face Death for the first time in person.

Harry let that feeling spread within him and exhaled; a fly buzzed somewhere in the room, irritated his concentration, but he forced himself to sift it away. And then, slowly, there was some kind of strange charge in the atmosphere around him. He could feel it tickling over his exposed skin, and his soul mark was heating up.

He took a chance and opened his eyes, and blinked to a little surprise. There were dust particles that hung still in the air like someone put a move in pause, and everything was utterly silent around him. It was a strange feeling; it was as if he had entered a gray zone of some kind. All the lively energy he had been feeling beforehand now had completely stopped.

And he felt empty and cold.

In front of him stood a tall skeleton cloaked in a vast black cloak with a dark purple inside. The skeleton stood utterly still, and his arms hung along the sides, and it did not move. Harry looked closely at the strange cloak that was almost dragging his gaze in; he could have sworn that he saw stars and galaxies swirling around in the fabric.

The skeleton suddenly pulled the fabric tighter around him, and Harry got the feeling that Death was smiling. An embarrassed heat spread over his cheeks as if he had seen something he should not see.

"Hello Harry James Potter, it's an honor to meet you in person. I'm the Avatar of Death" When Death talked, it was like small claps sounded in the room like someone grounded two rocks together, and yet, Harry could understand it just fine. He should not have been surprised, as Death was a skeleton without any vocal cords to speak with.

"The Avatar of Death? Is that what I should call you? " Harry asked

"Yes and no, you can call me Death or Ava, as some of my friends call me," the skeleton said, "But that story is perhaps for another time. I do believe that you have other, more pressing questions for me."

Harry blinked slowly at the skeleton's words. It was as if all his thoughts were emptied when he began to meditate. But he was pretty sure this was not the picture he had painted about the deity, a skeleton, right, but he could not place his dialect or his the feeling he got from it that was mostly amusement. But then again, call the deity Ava? Nope, that he would never be comfortable to do.

"I… do have some questions, but first, did you stop time?" Harry looked around again; he hoped that he stopped it because then he could ask everything he needed to know right now. But as the skeleton spoke, he crushed that hope.

"No, Next question."

Harry stared at the skeleton; he got the feeling that this would not be as easy as he had hoped. It was clear that Death had done something to their surroundings, but Harry could not figure out what it was. Could he learn to do the same? He had never thought about what it meant to be the Master of Death; it was just an unnecessary title he came across. But if he could stop time, perhaps they would have more time to find out what the hell was going on. Death moved before him, and Harry returned to the present.

He cleared his throat lightly, okay, one thing at a time, "Can you tell me why you need a master?"

"Wrong question."

Harry blinked in surprise, " No, I want to know that one."

"What you want is not always what you need," Death stated as he looked at him, and then Harry could hear a mental sigh. He could even feel how Death was a little bit disappointed in the lack of right questions, but still seemed to agree to answer him anyway.

"Because of who I am. As Death, I have infinite power and knowledge, but that can also create an imbalance, so simple enough, I need a master to keep both me and Creation in balance, birth, and rebirth. Chaos and order. Life and Death. Balance. Now next question, we do not have all day, and I can't tell you anything if you don't ask."

"But you did not even answer my question," Harry complained and struck out with his arm frustrated, which had only gained him more question on the matter.

"Yes, I did."

Harry bit back another protest before sighing and pressing his fingers into his eyes to try to alleviate the headache that throbbed behind his temple.

"Can you tell me where Loki is now?"

"No"

The short answer made Harry's anger bubbling underneath his skin, and he bit down so as not to verbally spat his frustration on the skeleton.

"No, you do not know where he is or No, you will not tell me," he asked in a deadpanned voice

"I know, but I cannot tell you because it is not for you to know."

"Then WHAT can you tell me?" Snapped Harry, it was like some feelings were leaking in him that was not his own, feeling his anger, his frustration with the world. The skeleton stood still, and Harry got the feeling that he suddenly was talking to a wall, but a wall would probably have more answers than Death had given him so far.

"What do you know of creation?"

Harry stared at the skeleton for a moment after his question and then slowly exhaled through gritted teeth. He needed answers, and he felt that if he asked the right questions, he would get the answer he was looking for, but that was easier said than done. It was like Death was playing games with him. The problem right now, ironically, was what the right question was.

Harry looked at the skeleton a second longer before reciting what he had been reading about the different entities and deities. When had he been such a scholar?

"I know that Creation is a being without any beginning or end. He created himself out of nothing; he is the God of Creation and something of a king to the Gods. Even as its name is endless, Creation has several titles, but no one knew who he is as he works through others. " Harry raved and tried to remember what else he knew about the being.

Death nodded. A feeling of contentment swept over Harry as he did.

"That's right. Creation is a being that is everything and nothing simultaneously because he can create it all. He has several avatars working underneath him; eternity, chaos, magic, miracle, and destiny are a few of them."

"That is interesting, but what has this got to do with my situation or Loki's, for that matter?" Harry asked, pulling his hand through his long hair, making a small mess out of it.

"Because of balance."

Harry did groan out loud in frustration this time, and the tickling feeling swept over his neck, and he gave Death an annoyed glance when he could more or less hear him snickering in his mind. But it seemed like he was finally taking pity on him.

"Loki is chaos and destruction; he is magic and the fire that lights up in every person. That is a few of creations most powerful avatars. But as all of these titles are strong, powerful, and wild in their own rights, together they are unstable," Death said and raised his hand, and a golden sphere was formed in front of him.

"Give them too much, and they will try and devour and battle each other for control" the sphere expanded and at the same time began to circulate the others in a hunting dance as they fused into a more massive golden ball. "That's where you came in," the skeleton said calmly and let a silver ball form in between the other and began to revolve around the golden one, making the ball sway calmly. "You are there to keep his balance as much as he is there to keep yours."

"Why me?" Harry looked at the two balls that flew around each other in a dance of their own.

"Why not you?" replied the skeleton, and Harry could bloody feel the amusement sipping out of Death at the words.

"Stop answering my question with a new question, please." Harry muttered, but his protest was only met with a new wave of amusement, "I know about the Peverell family that went through the test, and one of them succeeded; why not have him as your master?"

This time it seemed as if he was asking the right question, for Death hummed contentedly and banished the spheres and began to walk around and look at the meditation room. Time was still out of the loop, and when he walked around, the dust particles moved along the skeleton—almost making a tunnel behind him.

"I have always been fascinated by humanity," Death said as he stopped, "as Death, I lack the fundamentals of comprehension. I'm intrigued by humanity's ability to complicate their existence, and If I have to say, I'm deeply impressed how they etch morning can rise to the sun and not go insane from the sheer perspective of what life entails. Not only that, I always feel a sympathy tower for humanity, so when they ask for a little more time before I take them to the afterlife."

Harry turned around to follow the walking skeleton as the deity looked out of the window for a second as he talked.

" I usually ask them to play a good game of chess with me. I do love that game, the best invention of humankind. And the human get some time to calm down and accept that they had played their part in life. The Peverell brother, Ignitus, was one of my best candidates. Sadly, he was only a mortal, and therefore his soul could not exist for too long. He also had to accept that he had played his part, "Said Death as he suddenly poked the focus that was in the middle of the room, making a soft clang rang out of it as he did. Death hummed before he continued his inspection of this realm.

"He lived far longer than any of his brothers or even the magical community at that time. But he still was only a human. " The Skeleton straightened up and walked towards Harry again.

"You, on the other hand, are not '' one of Death's bony hands reached out and poked Harry in the chest, making the spot glow silver and warmth zippered through his body.

"You have always been my final candidate, young one. Immortal, strong, and the other half of chaos. A perfect match, I was going to talk with you."

Harry could feel Death smiling at him as he stared at the off-white skull; he had no idea what to say. He understood the meaning behind Death's words; a human soul had certain limitations. It simply could not live too long because then the soul began to lose its grip on reality. But had not Harald failed? he would not have been worthy of taking over that title?

".... and then Fate decided she was bored and messed everything up" Death shook his head in sorrow and sighed, "And a bored Fate is nothing you want to deal with. I like that human reference; they call it the snowball effect? Where one choice leads to another, and then the ball is spinning out of our control. And Thanos was the effect of this one, as was Harald's Unexpected Death."

Harry stood frozen at what he heard, Thanos, he recognized that name. Was Thanos not that mad titan in a fairy tale he had heard Loki tell Harald at some point? But before he could say anything, the skeleton kept talking.

"Of course, Fate understood her mistake quickly, so she asked her sister Magic for help. And when both Fate and Magic work together, things get out of hand, and miracles are there to balance them out" The sudden clattering laugh made Harry jerk in surprise and stare at him. But the skeleton would not explain what was so funny.

"Anyway, Thanos got into his head that he needed to court Death, and my Heir was standing in his way of doing that…."

"Wait. What?..... Court ...you?" Harry interrupted; how in the world could anyone come up with the idea of ​​court Death?

"Oh, galaxy no!" a trembling clattering laugh echoed in his head. "Well, not me indirectly, more like the Goddess of Death, one of my more scheming underlings that are."

The Goddess of Death? So it was not just one who bore the title of Death, but the more Harry thought about it, the clearer he became. Death must have helpers to be able to handle all the dead, and there were different aspects of Death, so it was not so strange.

"Correct," Death said as he had been reading his mind, "you are the balance of Death; she is the Goddess of Death, the one that maintains the souls in hell."

Harry stared at him, unimpressed by what he heard.

"What does this all have to do with Loki? Or the Goddess of Death? " Harry felt like he was getting impatient; why couldn't he get a straight answer? And now he had some strange title? or was it some kind of classification system? Harry could feel a migraine start to build up in his skull.

Everything… and then perhaps nothing. I perceived an imbalance in the universe. As Thanos had collected the first infinity gem, he thought he was one step closer to his love. And I fear that the goddess shares some of his… feelings… I do not know; I have not spoken to Hela since the Allfather exiled her to her realm. She blames me for that part, sadly. But then someone told Thanos about the position as master of Death, and unfortunately, neither he nor his informant had no idea what that title meant. But what the informant told him was that Harald had that power." Death spoke so merely on the matter as if he was talking about the weather.

Harry knitted his brows. "But I was not at that time ..."

"... no, you were not, but Thanos did not know that, and this person did not tell that specific detail. He believed that you now held his so-called 'love' as a slave, " Death told him slowly

" Your sacrifice as Harald stopped him for a long time, that was clever of you, and I know both miracle and magic want to reward you for that."

Harry felt his head spin again and rubbed his forehead in sheer frustration. "Wait; what reward? And Harald sacrifice himself? how?"

Harry had known that he had to be able to great Death willingly as Harald, or he would not be standing here right now. But to hear him say that after all of the memories that he had been able to remember. He could not see that happen; he had been so happy and in love. But Harald had sacrificed himself for what?!

Death hummed.

A small voice in Harry's head told him not to fight against the memories' fundamentals and remember that everything could happen in war. If Harald had met with Thanos and had sacrificed himself, there has to be a good reason for it. There was a feeling inside of him that was slowly rising, a sense that if Harry ever would meet the titan, he would have to get the hell out of there as fast as he could.

That he was no match for the titan.

But whatever Harald had done should have dealt with Thanos, right? He had sacrificed himself, so at least that threat had to be gone by now. Because it had been ages ago. But Harry knew was that Thanos was no ordinary enemy; he was not that easy to defeat.

"Yes,…" the soft-spoken word of Death caressed his mind. Death almost looked at him with pity. He had no idea how that even worked because there was nothing on the white skull, but Harry knew what he felt was that of sympathy in his gaze.

Harry felt his mouth dry, and his eyes sting as if he had inhaled too much smoke. Death put a gentle and bony hand on his shoulder, and Harry stiffened underneath the weight. It was heavier than he thought, and he tried to focus on that grounding feeling he got from it.

"You have a question, and I need you to say it out loud, young one."

Harry stared into the black holes where a person's eyes would have been. It was as if Death looked toward him, but at the same time, not. Like if he observed something past Harry's physical shell and into his very soul. Harry knew what this last question was; he knew what he wanted to ask, what he needed to know.

But at the same time, he feared it.

Harry stared into the dark holes where the eyes should be, and he could not even see the bottom of the skull as he did. His head begins to spin, dizziness invaded his sight, but he did not pull away. Harry inhaled a painfully slow breath; the words tasted like ash on his tongue.

"Can you make me remember?"

"Yes"

He drew in his breath and swallowed the needles that changed places with his saliva. He needed to know. And as he opened his mouth again to speak, this time was his voice one of a commanding; there was no doubt about what he said.

"Do it."

"As you wish, Master."

Bony fingers ran along his cheek to his forehead; Harry tried to keep them with his gaze, but as the fingers began to sink into his head, he closed his eyes. A shiver went through Harry; he could almost feel the bones practically vibrating in his head, and the ancient, dense magic sipped inside.

The familiar feeling of the cold shiver went through him, the tell-tale that he was slipping into something old, but at the same, somthing familiar. And this time, he welcomed the darkness and the memory that was brought to life one last time with open arms.