"Death talking"
Also, other stuff is written in italics (You will know if it's Death or other things that need some kind of emphasis, same thing with Parseltongue)
"Parseltongue"
"Newspaper Articles/Letters/etc."
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Snape's memories. They had changed everything. One hour was left. One hour or Voldemort would kill everyone, he'd ever cared about.
Numbness and anger fought a battle inside Harry's mind. All these years Dumbledore had been a mentor to him, had helped him almost like a grandfather. The anger which had built up in the past months only increased. He had known all the time that Harry housed a part of Voldemort's soul...
Seventeen years. He wouldn't have any more. A laugh bubbled up in Harry's throat as he caught the irony of the situation. Dumbledore's subtle manipulation had even lasted past the headmaster's death.
By destroying Voldemort's Horcruxes, he didn't only destroy the strings that kept the Dark Lord alive, no... With every destroyed Horcrux he walked further towards his own death. Voldemort at least had the decency to be open about his intentions...
Harry wouldn't let another person die for him and Dumbledore had known that. Of course, because the headmaster had had the nerve to get to know him before he sent him towards his death.
Fred was dead. Tonks and Remus... Little Teddy, an orphan like him.
Harry now laughed hysterically, tears streamed down his face. Dumbledore's betrayal paled in comparison to what was to come. As he had gathered himself, Harry looked at the golden Watch the Weasley's had given him on his birthday. He was numb. About thirty minutes were left. Harry felt the exhaustion taking over. With heavy limbs, he stood up and left Dumbledore's office.
The castle was ghostly silent. Here and there he could see the remains of a spell gone wrong and burnt tapestries. He grabbed his invisibility cloak and barely evaded meeting his friends. They knew what they had to do. Harry felt strangely reminded of his first time seeing the school as he walked past the empty portraits and stairs. It had been such a beautiful sight.
Now the air tasted like ash, blood and spellfire.
A part of him wanted to be stopped by someone, something. But the invisibility cloak was too good, too perfect.
Harry didn't meet another soul till he reached the entry hall. Neville and Oliver Wood were carrying someone. The corpse of Colin Creevy, pale and cold. Pictures flooded his mind. Of Colin walking through the halls of Hogwarts, following Harry like a puppy always with his camera. He would never take a photo again. Neville stayed back, while Oliver continued his way towards the Great Hall, shouldering the cold body.
Neville seemed exhausted. He looked like an old man as he was leaning against the wall. Harry stood staring for another moment till a sudden thought invaded his mind. Checking left and right, he pulled down his cloak. "Neville..." he croaked.
"Harry! You don't think about sacrificing yourself? We'll fight, you know!" his friend immediately burst out upon spotting him.
"No...," Harry lied. "Look Neville, Voldemort's got this giant snake, Nagini..."
"Yeah, I've heard about her." To his credit, Neville didn't even shudder and he met Harry's gaze head-on. The last year had changed him. Harry felt a burst of affection wash over him. It only steeled his resolve. They deserved to live.
"She has to die, Neville. Hermione and Ron know, but...," The thought of them dying tightened his throat, "I've got to go now."
Neville couldn't even respond before Harry pulled up the invisibility cloak again.
Outside, the air was thick with tension. Every step towards the forbidden forest felt like a lifetime. He saw Ginny, red hair streaked grey from the dust kneeling next to an immobile body, but he couldn't bear talking to her. He feared that he wouldn't be able to leave. Finally, after climbing over the remains of spiders, walking across giant weapons, corpses and pieces of the castle and burnt grass, he reached the edge of the forest.
Between the tall trees, the air got colder. Fog and darkness told about the horde of Dementors not far away. Harry turned around to look at the castle. From the distance, it stood proud and tall. This was the last time he would see the building which had been a home to him for almost seven years. But this was the end. The game was over, the snitch had been caught.
The snitch...
'I open at the close.'
He fumbled with the cord around his neck. Opening the pouch Harry pulled out the golden ball. "I am going to die...," he whispered, lips brushing the cold metal. And just like this, it revealed the space within. "Lumos."
Harry's breath caught for a moment, as he saw what the snitch revealed. It was the stone. The third Hallow.
It glinted darkly, even when Harry let the light of his wand expire to take the Hallow from its container. He gasped when the stone touched his hand, his eyes fixated on this little thing that had caused so much bloodshed.
Suddenly, he felt strangely detached from the people in the castle. It was as if he was walking through fog and at the same time not.
Now, that he was about to face his own demise, nothing seemed to matter anymore and yet he saw the world in such vibrancy that his body was brimming with it. Every detail stood out in stark contrast. He felt like a part of the forest. Living and breathing like every plant and every insect. Everything seemed so clear. And yet he didn't feel a thing as he turned to walk towards the man, who he had hated for the greater part of his life. Harry wasn't afraid. Not anymore.
He would die. It was something he had to do. There was something deep inside him, a piece of his soul that knew that he had to face death.
So, when he spotted Dolohov and Yaxley, he followed them. As they walked through the thick forest Harry could hear them talking in hushed voices. They didn't believe that he would show up. Harry wanted to laugh at the irony.
They followed an almost invisible trail snaking through the trees and suddenly they stopped and the foliage grew lighter. An opening between the treetops revealed a dark night sky dotted with stars. Suddenly Harry recognized the place. It was where he and Ron had faced Aragog. There were no spiders - their den laid abandoned - but the place was unmistakably the same.
Giant spiderwebs were hanging in the trees, trailing like veils above the Death Eaters' heads. They moved ghostly in the wind - some reflecting the golden light coming from the fire that was burning in the middle of the clearing.
The flames lightened up the faces of Voldemort's followers, painting eerie shadows onto their skin.
Curiously Harry took another step forward.
Some of them still wore their masks while others didn't care to hide their faces anymore. Two giants sat not far away, throwing big shadows over the scenery. Fenrir Greyback restlessly bit his nails, eager to fight again. His arms were drenched in blood. Tall, blond Rowle had a split lip and purple bruises grew more visible on his grim face with every second, while Lucius Malfoy was surrounded by an aura of fear, so different from the arrogant way he used to carry himself. In comparison, Narcissa appeared calm. She was next to him, silent but cautious, her eyes carefully watching.
And there, almost otherworldly stood Voldemort. Pale and tall, his hands folded over his wand as if in silent prayer. Every face was expectantly pointed towards him. He oozed dark power and Harry found himself fascinated by the man, more so than he was afraid. The snake, Nagini was still floating inside her magical cage, distorting the air around her while her heavy body writhed slowly.
When Dolohov and Yaxley joined the crowd, Voldemort opened his eyes and he raised his head to look at them, despite no sound having told of their arrival. "No trace of him, Milord", Dolohow exclaimed, his voice brittle and rough. Voldemort's expression didn't change. His red eyes were almost glowing in the dark. Slowly he pulled the wand out of his long fingers, every pair of eyes fixated on the movement.
It also caught Harry's attention and his gaze was inevitably drawn to the Deathstick in the spindly hands.
Harry's palm tightened around the stone in his hand. It burned cold.
"My Lord," Bellatrix began, but Voldemort cut her off with a gesture of his hand. He started to talk. It was almost a whisper.
"I thought he would come..." Voldemort looked into the flames. "I expected him to come."
Nobody said a word. Harry wanted to laugh at how they all were so afraid, whereas he'd lost all his fear the moment he had accepted his soon-to-be death. Harry calmly pulled the invisibility cloak from his shoulders and stuffed it beneath his shirt. His wand followed shortly after. He wouldn't need it. "It seems that I was... mistaken," Voldemort added.
"You weren't," Harry interrupted loudly and he walked towards the snake-like man. Nothing mattered, apart from them. Hagrid bound to a tree somewhere to his right began to shout. He hadn't noticed him before.
"NO... HARRY!" But Harry didn't answer. He ignored the laughter and jeers coming from the Death Eaters and stopped not far from Voldemort. The dark Lord tilted his head. Curiosity sparked in his eyes, but Harry knew it wouldn't save him.
"Harry Potter," the dark Lord said, and his lips curled into a cold smile as he spoke what would be the last words Harry would ever hear, "The boy who lived..." Almost gentle, Voldemort lifted his hand and pointed the Elder wand at him. Harry saw his lips moving. Then nothing.
Harrryyyy.....
Harrrryyyyy...
Harry opened his eyes. A bright light was assaulting him from all sides till he blinked and his surroundings took on a blurry shape. He found himself in a white room. It was very long and high, pillars rising towards the ceiling, which appeared to be wholly made out of glass. The longer he looked, the more things he found. Oddly enough it reminded him of Kings Cross. Suddenly he spotted something pinkish beneath a bench. It was moving.
Just as Harry wanted to walk towards it, he heard a strange sound which caused him to whirl around.
"Harrryyy..."
Like a gust of wind, but wind didn't talk. It was a voice. It sounded hoarse and his name was stretched oddly by it. "Who is there?" Harry turned his head to find the source of the noise, but he couldn't see anybody.
Suddenly he felt as if there were hands touching his back, roaming up to stroke his shoulders, rifle through his hair, tracing his face, only to come down to his ribs again, grabbing him from behind.
"Harry," someone whispered directly into his ear. Harry froze. He almost felt hair tickling his cheek. It felt like the mockery of a hug.
"I've waited for a long time..."
"Who are you? Show yourself!" Harry demanded and he swallowed hard. Almost as if this being was reluctant to let go, he felt the presence pulling back. Instead, the air in front of him grew thicker and foggy. The dark cloud grew, took on shape and like the piece of Tom Riddle from the diary the fog started to resemble a human. Once it had fully formed, the being flashed its too sharp teeth in an unsettling grin. Harry gaped. Because in front of Harry stood, well ...Harry.
But not quite.
The figure had the same slim face and slender built. The hair was as wild as Harry's, but it's seemed even darker. Pitch black, like a dark hole sucking in light and the strands, floated as if they were underwater. The skin of the figure was waxen, too perfect to belong to a real human and the lightning-shaped scar on its forehead was also missing. But the biggest difference were its eyes. They were white, like the eyes of a Thestral. No pupil or iris disturbed the glossy surface.
"My Masssterrr...," it drawled.
"Your Master?" Harry stared at his doppelganger with a bewildered look. Its edges seemed to blur and sharpen at a random interval. Harry blinked.
"My Master," the being confirmed, eyeing him hungrily, "You collected the Hallows."
"The Hallows..." Harry's eyes widened in fear. "You are Death?!"
"That'sss what some people might call me," it said still grinning.
"Am I dead?" Harry asked oddly composed, even though he was dreading the answer.
The creature tilted its head. "Yes and no. You have left the world of the living, but you haven't reached the world of the dead. You are in a place with no name... but I think one could best describe it as 'in-between'," the figure said after a moment.
"What about the Horcrux?" Harry blurted out, the question about his purpose pushing forth, the reason for him being here in the first place.
The other Harry tilted its head in the other direction in a birdlike motion. He was watching Harry intently. "It's no longer with you. It's ...waiting."
"Waiting?"
"For the other pieces to join." The predatory grin on Death's face seemed to shrink somewhat. "It suffers. A frayed piece of what should be whole. It can't go on without the others." Harry squirmed under the piercing gaze, not quite grasping what emotion befell him at these words, yet the gravity of the statement touched something within him.
"But Voldemort is still alive?" he asked to breach the heavy silence.
"Yesss."
"I have to go back, don't I?" Harry asked it and he looked at the empty train tracks.
"You could go on," Death said, following his gaze. It didn't sound very happy.
"What if I did go on. Where would I go?" Harry questioned.
"On," it simply said.
"But I could go back."
"Yessss." The being grinned again and leaned towards Harry.
"I could defeat Voldemort," Harry said and determination found its way into his voice.
"You could."
And yet the being confirming his words only took away his confidence and the task at hand seemed so much bigger. It claimed that he could go back and defeat Voldemort. But how? And after all, Nagini was still alive. Then a thought invaded his mind. "You said I am your Master," Harry asked.
"You are."
The being let out a strange vibrating noise. It reverberated in the room, filling the air from all sides like a deep rumble and Harry suddenly realized that it was purring. The creature in front of him was purring. A sound that didn't match at all the human shape it was wearing. But then the meaning of its words hit him. He was Death's master!
"Could you bring back Fred, Tonks and Remus?" Harry asked, a spark of hope flaming up in his heart and he almost stumbled over his words. "Sirius?" The image of his godfather falling through the veil was burning behind his lids.
"No."
"Oh," Harry said. His chest clenched painfully. He kept silent, while Death seemed content just to be in his company, judging by the continuing rumbling that was going on. "But what is the meaning of all this?" Harry suddenly burst out.
"You are my Master," it purred and Harry felt frustration building in his chest
"But what does it mean?! Why would Death even need a Master?" he loudly voiced his thoughts.
"Death doesn't need a master. I created the Hallows because I wanted to. Not many would be able to collect all of them. Even if somebody united them before, I could simply choose to not follow them. But you..." It came close, its nose almost touching Harry's. "You are mine."
Harry was confused. Apart from the strange fixation the being seemed to have on him, it really sounded like the being wanted to serve him. But what was the use of being Death's master if he couldn't even get his loved ones back?! "What do you get out of this?" Harry questioned, suddenly suspicious.
"I was alone. I was bored. But now I am not...."
"If I go back, could you help me defeat Voldemort?"
"Yesss," The being seemed eager. "Though, I should warn you. If you accept to be my Master, I will be you and you will be me."
"I won't be killing people, will I? I won't become Death?" Harry asked suddenly afraid at the cryptic words. He remembered how Quirrel had died. What if he would kill Ron or Hermione just like this?
"A part of me will merge with you, just as a part of you will merge with me. If you accept to be my Master, you command death. You collected the Hallows. There will be a change. It already started when you picked up the stone."
Harry recalled the feeling of detachment and suddenly he wasn't so sure that facing his death was the only reason for it. "Can I stop it? The change?"
"You could choose to go on." The creature smirked. Harry felt anger brimming in his stomach.
Voldemort was still out there. His friends, his teachers. All of them were still fighting. Harry gritted his teeth. He disliked that the creature was forcing his hand like this. Either let down his friends, leave them to die at Voldemorts hands or agree to something he didn't know the outcome of. "If I accept to be your master, am I still me?" he asked with clenched fists. The creature seemed amused, but it nodded.
"You'll have your memories, your feelings, but there will be a part inside of you that knows Death. That is Death. And Death doesn't know good and bad." Death smirked like a distorted reflection of his.
Harry exhaled shakily. This was at least something. But what if he came back like Voldemort? Not able to love, not remembering what it was like to be friends or how it was to be in love? The being in front of him seemed hesitant. Something flashed over its face. Suddenly it spoke again.
"Go back if you want to. I have waited for a long time. If you need time to think about it, I will give you time."
"Will I be able to defeat Voldemort without you?" Harry asked uncertainly yet thankful all the same.
"You have always been strong Harry..." The first genuine smile seemed to appear on Death's face. In a way, it was more unsettling than the grin.
"Are you able to bring me back, then?" Harry asked.
"Yesss," it said, its white eyes staring into Harry's.
Harry swore that he felt a hand brushing his face, but his surroundings were already fading.