13Don't Fear the Reaper
A/N: Welcome to the final (chronologically, at least) episode of "The Magic's in the Music" series. Think of it an an epilogue of sorts, giving me a chance to show one more song in an interesting context, while tying up some loose ends in the process.
Harry Potter was tired. In the weeks since his defeat of Voldemort, he'd been celebrated, paraded, and otherwise had to put up with being the biggest celebrity in Magical Britain since, well, himself as a baby. But more than that, he'd felt a strange pull on his magic, as though it was being weighed down by something he couldn't quite place. But now that he was finally free of all the ceremonies and celebrations, he intended to find out what it was and how to stop it.
Thinking back, he first started feeling it when he'd gone to collect Voldemort's wand from where he'd dropped it when Harry had sucked their souls into Ravenclaw's diadem using Hotel California. He'd learned during his hunt for the other Horcruxes that Voldemort had managed to steal Dumbledore's wand from his tomb, because supposedly it was the fabled Deathstick, otherwise known as the Elder Wand. And for that reason alone he was on his way to have a chat with Dumbledore's portrait.
As he approached the castle, the pull got stronger; whatever he was looking for must also be in the castle, but not knowing what it was he decided to stick to his plan of interrogating the former Headmaster about his old wand.
He was met at the doors to by Headmistress McGonagall, who seemed both pleased and confused to see him. "Mister Potter, while it's always good to see you, I was not expecting you to return to the castle anytime soon."
"Neither was I," replied Harry, "but I find myself in need of a chat with Professor Dumbledore's portrait, and so here I am. Would it be possible to have a private conversation with him, either in your office or somewhere else if that would be more convenient for you?"
"Would this have anything to do with our previous conversation that didn't include him?" asked the Headmistress.
"Actually, no," said Harry. "While it does have something to do with the late Tom Riddle, that's as much as I'm willing to say about it at the moment. I will say that I do not believe that it poses any danger to anyone in the school, or anywhere really, and that it's more of an intellectual curiosity than anything else. And I believe that Professor Dumbledore is the only one that I know of who can answer my questions, or otherwise point me at someone else who can."
"Hmm," McGonagall pursed her lips. "Very well, come with me to my office. I'll remove Professor Dumbledore's portrait from the wall and you can take him into his old bedchambers. I never bothered to move my quarters when I took over as headmistress, and I never had time to clean them out either. I suppose I will now, but that can certainly wait a little longer."
"Thank you, Headmistress," said Harry, and he followed her into the castle.
Upon arrival in the Headmistress's office, McGonagall did a couple quick spells to freeze the portraits, and then released Dumbledore's portrait from the wall. Once Harry had carried it into the old Headmaster's bedchamber, she released his portrait and said, "Albus, Mister Potter has requested a private conversation with you, so I've taken him and your portrait into your old bedchamber. I shall leave you to it now, as I have much work to do now that the school is getting back to normal."
"Thank you, Minerva," he said, then turned to look at Harry. "I was wondering when you would come to speak to me, I'm sure you must have felt the pull by now."
Harry blinked, and suddenly realized that he felt the pull much more strongly than before. In fact, whatever it was that he was being pulled to must be in this room. Pulling the Elder Wand, he asked, "What can you tell me about your old wand, and what is this pull I'm feeling. It's much stronger now that I've ever felt it before."
"I had heard that Tom stole my wand," said Dumbledore, "and after I learned you had defeated him I knew that sooner or later you would possess it. And once that happened, you would feel the pull to the castle. Yes, to answer your unanswered question, that is indeed the fabled Elder Wand, and the story about it's origin is true to the best of my knowledge. But more importantly, the other two objects in the story are also real, and as the owner of two of them you now feel the pull of the third."
"Wait, two of them?" blurted Harry. "What other one do I -" He stopped, a sudden realization hitting him. "The cloak?" he said questioningly.
"Yes, Harry, your father's cloak is the true Cloak of Invisibility. I wasn't sure of it until he lent it to me to study. That was when I first felt the pull of the third object, though I was never able to find it at the time." Dumbledore paused, then added, "Perhaps it would have been better if I had never found it after all."
"What do you mean, sir?" asked Harry, his questions about the cloak forestalled by the sad tone in Dumbledore's voice.
"The Resurrection Stone, the third of the Deathly Hallows, only brought my death," said the portrait. You see, the stone was part of a ring that Tom had made into a Horcrux. But more than that, he placed a powerful withering curse on it and I, unable to resist the temptation of the Stone, triggered the curse before I could stop myself. I knew it was a trap, but I did it anyways. And then, the one time I used the Stone, it only brought me sorrow. Only afterwards did I truly understand the lesson of the story of the second brother."
"Who did you try to see?" asked Harry, before realizing that perhaps he shouldn't have asked.
"The who is not important, Harry," replied Dumbledore. "What's important is understanding that no matter what we might wish to say to those who are gone, or wish to hear from them, nothing can change the fact that they are gone. Not even the Resurrection Stone can change that fact."
Harry nodded. "It's like you told me about the Mirror of Erised," said Harry after a moment. "While we might be able to see our desires in the mirror, we cannot just sit there while life goes on around us."
"Well said, Harry, I'm glad you listened to me all those years ago. And that is why I believe you will make a good master for the Hallows."
"Master? What do you mean?" asked Harry.
"It is said that one who possesses all three Hallows, that is the Elder Wand, the Resurrection Stone, and the Cloak of Invisibility, will become the Master of Death. What that truly means is uncertain; perhaps it means that you will be immortal, or perhaps it means that you can choose who lives and who dies. All that is certain is that none before you have ever possessed all three at once. But now, I believe, it is time. I'm sure you can feel the pull of the stone, please go and get it. You'll find it in the top drawer of my dresser." Dumbledore made shooing motions with his hands, though gently so as to be kind.
Harry wasn't sure what to do, or if he really wanted to possess all three Hallows. But, "Gryffindors charge forward," he thought to himself, and so he went to Dumbledore's dresser and opened the drawer. There was something mildly amusing about the fact that it turned out to be full of the Headmasters's socks, which caused Harry to chuckle for a moment, before he found what he was looking for. About the size of a Snitch, only somewhat elongated, and dull brown in color, Harry grabbed it and for a moment his whole world stopped. Well, not stopped, but it seemed that time both compressed and expanded, and in that moment he lived a lifetime while a single heartbeat took forever, and then everything snapped back to normal.
"Whoa," he said, swaying slightly on his feet.
A moment later he heard footsteps and Headmistress McGonagall opened the door and looked in worriedly. "Potter, are you -" she started to ask, then stopped as she stared at him.
"Yes, Headmistress?" he asked, turning to face her, and she visibly shook herself before blinking several times.
"Mister Potter? But I thought I just saw… Well, I don't know what I just saw," she finished, trailing off.
"I believe I understand what happened, Minerva," said Dumbledore. "If you would put up the privacy wards again I shall try to explain it, at least my best guess."
McGonagall looked at Harry, who nodded, and she did so. She conjured a chair for herself near the door, not getting any nearer to Harry while trying to not make it look like she was avoiding him. "Please, Albus, what is happening?"
"Young Mister Potter has, with my blessing, just taken possession of something of mine that I believe rightfully belongs to him. In fact, had things gone differently, I probably would have willed it to him. But that's not important right now. What is important is that Harry is now the owner of three very special Magical items, ones that I believe you would call a myth or legend, but that very much do exist. Harry, please show Minerva the wand."
Harry pulled out the wand and paused as he saw McGonagall flinch. Not understanding but also not wanting to scare her, he turned the wand around before slowly walking towards her. As he neared her, she gasped and said, "Albus, isn't that your wand?"
"Yes, Minerva, one and the same," he replied. "Voldemort stole it from my tomb after learning what it was, and Harry took it from him after he was defeated. But more importantly, that isn't any ordinary wand. It's the Elder Wand, one of the three legendary Deathly Hallows."
"But the Hallows are just a myth. A children's story!" said McGonagall, giving Dumbledore a look.
"No," said Dumbledore, "I'm afraid they're not. My wand, the Elder Wand, was taken from Grindelwald when I defeated him. He himself had taken it from another, who'd taken it from another, and so forth back to the original owner, Antioch Peverell. How he came to possess the wand is uncertain, though the story of the Three Brothers is certainly possible. While I do not know if it is actually true, I suspect that Harry will be able to answer that one day better than anyone."
"And why is that, Albus?" asked McGonagall.
"Because I now own all three Hallows," answered Harry, before Dumbledore could say anything. "And yes, I believe that the story is true. Or at least I do now. If you'd asked be ten minutes ago I would have said no, it's just a story. But now," he paused for a moment before continuing, "now I can feel that it's true."
"What are you saying, Mister Potter?" asked the Headmistress.
"Ever since I picked up the wand from where Voldemort dropped it, I've felt this strange pull on my Magic," said Harry. "It got stronger as I approached the castle, and after you brought me in here I could tell that whatever was pulling me was somewhere in this room. When Professor Dumbledore told me about the Stone, and where it was, I went to get it. You came in just after I picked up; well, I'm not sure how long after, because when I picked it up time stopped having any meaning for a bit. I felt like my heart was beating in slow motion, and yet at the same time I lived my entire life in the blink of an eye. And then it stopped, and the pull was gone, but I know, deep down in my soul, that these three items were somehow gifts from Death itself." Harry suddenly felt very old, and moved to sit down on Dumbledore's bed. "And now," he continued, "I understand what I'm supposed to do with them."
"And what would that be?" queried McGonagall, looking concerned.
"It's time to return them," said Harry resolutely. "These don't belong here on Earth, and as long as they remain there will always be those who seek to possess them. My family was able to keep the Cloak safe because it was inherently designed to hide the owner. But the other two items can only bring death and sorrow." He looked at the Headmaster's portrait solemnly and added, "That's what you meant by it would have been better if you'd never found the Stone. But I think you were actually meant to find it when you did, both because you were able to destroy the Horcrux attached to it, and because it ultimately meant that you would be able to lead me to it. And I may be the only one who can complete the final task."
"Perhaps you are right, Harry," said Dumbledore, "but how do you intend to do so. Only those who are dead can call upon Death unless he wills it otherwise."
"Normally that would be true, Professor," replied Harry, "but I know another way. Can you promise not to tell anyone else, alive or dead, what I'm about to tell you? The Headmistress knows because I told her after I defeated Voldemort, but other than herself Ron and Hermione, nobody knows my secret."
"I promise, Harry, though you may be surprised to find that I already guessed some part of it."
Harry smiled. "Of that I have no doubt, but it's the specifics that I'd prefer stay secret. Very well. My magic responds to music in ways that no wand can duplicate. Different songs cause different effects, several of which I have used to defeat Voldemort when I was younger before using one to trap him in one of his Horcruxes, which was then sent through the Veil in the Department of Mysteries. I have limited control over whether or not I allow my Magic to 'latch on' to the song, but once it does I mostly am just along for the ride. Well, that's not entirely true; I can still direct the effects of my Magic, but until the song is over it controls what my Magic does and doesn't do."
"Is that what happened in the cave?" asked Dumbledore.
"Yes, that's how I was able to control the Inferi so we could escape," replied Harry. "I was going to tell you about it after we got back to the school, but then everything happened and you died, and so I never got the chance."
"Remarkable," said the Headmaster. "If I may ask, what song did you use in the cave?"
"It's an American song by a band called The Hooters. The title is 'All You Zombies', and I strongly hope that I never have to rely on it again."
"I wish that for you as well. Now," said Dumbledore, looking curious, "I wonder how this unique ability of yours will permit you to return the Hallows to Death without him choosing to come to you."
"I can't speak for Death, as while I may be the master of the Hallows, I do not believe that I can in any way call myself the master of Death itself. But there is one song that I believe will allow me to call on Death, and if I'm lucky they will answer." Harry tried to hide the uncertainty from his face, but hearing the gasp from McGonagall he knew he hadn't succeeded.
"You don't expect to survive your encounter with Death, do you?" she asked.
Harry dropped his head and shrugged. "I honestly don't know. I give it a 50/50 chance that Death will claim me for having the gall to summon them, or that they will let me go in exchange for returning the Hallows. But I have to try."
"Why?" asked both Dumbledore and McGonagall at the same time.
"Because I'm tired," said Harry, dropping all pretense and letting his exhaustion show. "And, if I'm honest about it, Death has been following me ever since I was born, if not before it." He gave Dumbledore's portrait a sharp look. "That prophecy you heard, and the fact that you let Tom hear it, has meant that Death has been coming for me in one way or another since before I even entered the world. It has, in a very real way, shaped my entire life, and I'm tired of it. So it's time to stop running from Death and face it head on, something Tom never had the courage to do. And when it's over I'll be free either way; If I'm dead, then I won't have to worry about it anymore, and if not then I'll know that Death and I will have come to an understanding and still I won't have to worry about it anymore. I'd much rather live than die, but one way or another I won't run from Death anymore."
McGonagall stared at him in shock, but Dumbledore just looked resigned. "I understand, Harry," he said. "And for what it's worth, I'm sorry for my role in this. And you are very right in saying that Tom spent his entire life running from that which inevitably comes for all of us. I know it means very little in the grand scheme of things, but I hope you find success with your mission. And, perhaps, if you do, you'll come back and tell me about it."
Harry smiled wanly, accepting the former Headmaster's words in the spirit they were given. "I'll do that, sir, though it may be a long time before I'm ready to talk about it."
Dumbledore nodded, as McGonagall finally found her voice. "You seriously mean to call upon Death, just like that?"
Harry shook his head. "Well, no, not just like that. First I need to set my affairs in order, as well as telling a few people that I think deserve to hear it directly from me rather than reading about it should I not survive. But yes, once that's done I will call on Death, politely if I can, and see what happens. And hopefully when I'm done I'll be free to live the rest of my life a little easier."
McGonagall shook her head sadly, tears appearing in the corners of her eyes. "You poor, poor, boy." Suddenly, she surprised Harry by pulling him into a hug. "Please tell me when the time comes, I'll keep you in my thoughts."
Not knowing what else to do, Harry just nodded.
It took Harry just over three weeks to get everything in order, including nearly a week talking things through with Ron and Hermione to convince them not to try to stop him, and that he needed to be alone when he tried. He agreed that they would come by the morning after he made the attempt, and if he was dead they would handle things. He still had no idea how Death was going to react to his summons, but as time went on since he'd taken possession of the last Hallow he only felt more and more certain that this was the correct course of action.
Having finished writing out his goodbye note, he signed it with a flourish, put it in the middle of his desk where it would be obvious, and then gathered the Hallows. Standing in his room he closed his eyes for a moment, gathered his thoughts, and then began to "sing" the song in his head.
/* Blue Öyster Cult "(Don't Fear) The Reaper" Agents of Fortune (1976) */
For the first few seconds nothing happened, but then he felt a subtle pull on his magic from the Hallows, similar to what he'd felt from the Resurrection Stone after he had collected the Elder Wand. The pull continued to get stronger, until he felt the presence of another, not fully there yet very much scrutinizing him.
/* 0:36 */
For more than a full minute this scrutiny continued, the presence always staying just outside the corner of his perception, yet very much felt. Finally it pulled back a little, before coalescing in front of him.
/* 1:56 */
The figure of Death stood before him, cloaked all in black from head to floor, with nothing visible either under its hood or up its sleeves. Harry stood there, waiting for the figure to speak, somehow knowing that he was still being judged. After a moment, the hooded figure spoke in a voice that was deep, and yet somehow impossibly mellow, as smooth as silk and unconcerned about anything. "You summon me, somehow, yet you are not afraid. Do you seek to master me as you have my gifts?"
Harry took a deep breath, shook his head, and said, "No, I do not seek to master anyone, except possibly myself. I only seek to return that which is rightfully yours, in order to break the cycle of untimely death that follows those who seek or possess them. You have followed me my entire life, and I'm tired of it. So, rather than running from you I have sought you out to return these in the hope that doing so will, for a time at least, allow me to live without being under your shadow." He held out the Hallows, offering them to Death.
The cloaked figure tilted its head to the side and crossed its arms, studying him for a moment. "Let me get this straight. You've spent your whole life running from me, so now you let me catch you in the hopes that I'll let you go and stop chasing you?" There was a definite hint of a smile behind the voice, though Harry still couldn't see anything under the hood.
"OK, when you put it that way, it does sound strange," Harry chuckled. "But I haven't been running from you my entire life, that was Tom. I've just had to live in your shadow since before I was born, and I'd like to step out of it, at least for a while."
"Hmm..." intoned Death. A skeletal hand appeared from the right sleeve and rubbed what Harry assumed was its chin, though everything inside the hood was still cloaked in what must be some sort of magical shadow. "And what is it that you expect your life would be like if that happened?"
"Honestly, I just don't want to have to keep looking over my shoulder expecting someone to try to kill me all the time," said Harry. "I know life is uncertain, and everybody dies eventually, but I've had a target on my back ever since that stupid prophecy was uttered, and I'm tired of it all. I just want to be an ordinary guy, get married, have kids and grand kids, and eventually die peacefully in my bed, you know?"
/* 3:36 */
Death looked at Harry for a moment, and then, incongruously, began to chuckle. The chuckle turned into guffaws, and eventually into full blown belly laughs. As Death threw back its head laughing, the hood fell back to reveal a face that was incongruously young looking, yet looking at it Harry knew that the being in front of him was impossibly old at the same time. As the hood had fallen away, Death's voice raised in pitch noticeably, yet retained its smooth tone. After a moment, Death stopped laughing and looked at Harry, its gaze piercing and unavoidable. "You don't ask for much, do you?" Death asked with a slightly mocking tone, before holding up its hand to stop Harry from saying anything. "Given what you could have asked for, and others have asked for, it really isn't that much, at least in some ways. In others it's more than you realize, but that's for me to know and you to find out!"
"I don't understand," started Harry, before Death interrupted him.
"Some things even I can't give away the secrets to, but I will grant you what I can. As the master of my three Hallows, you have earned the power of my gifts. For returning them to me instead of keeping that power for yourself, you have earned my respect. In acknowledgment of both those things, I will give you the closest to what you ask for that I can; from this day forth, you will never need to walk in my shadow again, for none but yourself can bring you back before me. You may be hurt, you may even be wounded so much that your body fails until such time as your magic can heal it sufficiently, but no other can fully take your life. You will age as you see fit, both forwards and backwards should you choose, from this day forward. When the time comes that you are ready to meet me again, you must simply summon me the way you did today, and I will come for you." Death paused a moment, then pointed a bony finger at Harry. "But everything else you asked for, you're on your own!" Then, with a chuckle, Death pulled up his hood, and at the same time faded into nothingness, along with the Hallows.
Harry stared for a moment at where Death had just been, thinking on what it had said. Then he began to laugh, and continued to do so until his sides hurt and he had tears in his eyes. Who knew Death had a sense of humor? And, he realized, as he fought to bring himself back under control, he'd also been royally pranked by Death. While Death had taken the Hallows, he had essentially given Harry exactly what being master of all three was supposed to do in the first place. He was now effectively immortal, something he didn't really feel comfortable with. Then again, he could always just choose to age normally, and eventually die when the time came. He'd have to think long and hard about this, including what (if anything) he told anybody else.
Then, taking a quick look around, he grabbed the notes he'd left on his desk, tossed it in the fireplace, and with a quick incendio turned it to ash. Then, with a spring in his step that had been missing ever since he'd defeated Voldemort, he walked out of his house and into the future.
FIN
A/N2: And that's it - the end of Harry's story in this universe (at least for me). I still have an idea for the end of Year 6, but while the concept is solid the story itself just hasn't come together. One of these days...
If anybody wants to take up the concept and write something more about Harry's future (and what interesting ideas his magic as about other songs), go for it. All I ask is that you drop me a note so I can read it too!