Chapter 2: Meetings and Decisions
It was a cool summer day the first time Harry had noticed something strange ha been happening, as he lounged on the back patio. He had realized that no matter where he went or what he did there always seemed to be grey tinted blue butterflies following him everywhere. At first it seemed as if they where trying to be subtle and kept at a distance, but afterwords it seemed as if they picked up that they had been noticed and abandoned the distance. Now they flew freely around his head, and trailed behind him as a puppy would its masters heels, not once did they try to hide their presence from him again, more so to the fact that they seemed overjoyed that he had noticed them, almost as if they had been waiting for it. They don't really bother him all that much, and kept from flying directly in front of his face unless he is siting down, but even then they kept a small distance.
Even thought he did not mind there presence. It's just not everyday that you are followed around by a dozen or so butterflies as they have been doing to him the past few months.
And as so Harry took it as a sign that it was time to do some investigating, and went off to do some research on the subject. After he had calmed for his shock induced rage (that had lasted a few decades), he went about collecting every single magical book and object that was left and stored it in his largely expanded library/display. Just imagine the tallest building you've ever seen and triple it ten thousand times and you wound have only a third of the space that took up his library. 'Hah, eat your heart out Hermione' he thought briefly amused to himself.
Of course it took a very long time to collect and organize but time seemed to be, among other things, something he had an abundance of and didn't have to worry about, plus it gave him something to keep his mind occupied otherwise he would have really lost his mind as all of his decades worth of memories came back to him fully.
His library is organized by having a section of the walls dedicated to one sub-parts of things such a transfiguration, potions, creatures magical and non, etc etc as an example, whether it was dark or light did not concern him anymore.
He walked over to the section that he dedicated to anything that involved creatures of any kind being used as sigils and there meanings. And looked specifically for the section on butterflies as so it seems as butterflies could be perceived to mean a number of different things. One in particular caught his interest as it fit the physical description of his butterflies, detail to detail. It seems that the grey like blue colored butterflies that have been following him around are a sign of death, more specifically they represent the carriers of the souls that death reaps, also known to be deaths helpers. In the book it is said that these butterflies are suppose to hold souls until they are discharged by the master to the afterlife.
As he sat he pondered upon the meaning, and what it meant for him. As he is sure that this is it as It fits his butterflies description spot on.
Harry jumped from his sitting position into the battle stance that had been ingrained into his form from years of hunting parasites as a rough, raspy voice sounded behind him. As he did this the figure shrouded in a black cloak with wisp like tentacles chuckled. Or what he thought was a chuckle, because of the amused tone that could be barely heard even if it sounded like nails on a chalkboard.
"Who are you?! How did you get in here?!" Harry asked in a shocked voice as he was confident that nothing could get past his wards, well almost nothing.
"Oh, I think you know who I am." The figured mocked.
"...Death?" Harry asked in a hesitant, uncertain voice as he slipped from his stance to another more relaxed but alert one. As he did so the figure now identified as Death stepped forward and lifted its head from its bowed position.
There wasn't really a face more of a skull that seemed to be floating in the shadows that made up its cloak. The skull itself was inhuman and seemed be that of a great stag with no bottom jaw, its horns stuck up from the cloak itself and looked as if there was still rotting flesh hanging from them, with so came the stench of rot and decay, in the eye sockets there seemed to be two small green flames that replaced the eyes. They gave of an eerie feeling as they looked upon him. As they did so, and he has no idea how, they seemed to shape their half a jaw into a grin filled with fangs and their eyes seemed to flare with seemingly unadulterated glee. 'Yeah, there's no what that's not Death, and the only other thing it could be is a windigo and they died out three years before the declaration of war from the parasites, plus I'm doubt even a creature as strong as a windigo could get past my wards' Harry thought to himself.
'I am no windigo' a voice confirmed inside his head in an almost offended but mostly amused tone. As such he jumped a bit.
"Then excuse my if I may ask as to why you are here?".
" Well, I think you should already have at least a clue, master." death said, sarcasm almost dripping from its words and it spoke the word 'master'. 'Ah' he thought as it finally clicked when he remembered the praise from the book, 'I collected all the hollows at the end of the war with Voldemort, Oh Merlin's saggy tits , I'm the bloody master of death' raspy sound of its laughter is heard again as Deaths shoulders start to shake slightly.
Slightly shaken, I asked "Well Death, if u don't mind me asking, what are you doing here now" I seemed to consider my words before answering.
"Since you seems so lonely, as you are the only wizard left. I figured I would offer you a deal."