Our Corrupted Souls

Part IX: The Night with Death.

"Even death has a heart."
 ~ Markus Zusak, The Book Thief. 

Once Harry had returned to the Dursleys, he was greeted back with shouts and a slap from Vernon. The man walked away after that. Both him and Petunia had been startled by this action. The two looked at each other, Petunia rushed to give the boy a bag of frozen peas while Vernon stomped out of the house, ashamed of what he'd done. Harry was lucky he had changed back into Dudley's hand-me-downs, knowing that if he came back with the expensive wizard's clothes, the backlash would be worse.

Harry wasn't sure who was more idiotic, him for letting his disappearance go noticed, or the Dursleys for not even questioning how a one year old had sneaked out of the house. Truly, by now they just wanted a death wish.

After Petunia had shown him how to fold the laundry, Harry cooped himself up in his cardboard for a room, reading over Death's tablets until nightfall. Harry believed Death would not show, until he heard Petunia's horrid screams, later came Vernon's shouts. Thumping and thudding from above echoed throughout the house, finding their way to Harry's ears, alarming him of the commotion upstairs. Although Harry wanted to help out if there was a wizard that managed to track him, it was not his first reaction. The first thing he did was hide his tablets and prepare to flee the scene. He was still too weak to fight, and if he did, it would only arouse suspicion as to how a one year old managed to fight a full grown wizard.

Just as the boy apparated out of the cupboard under the stairs, the screams stopped and all traces of any light vanished. The house became darker than the sky outside that was illuminated by the stars and moon.

Harry stopped in his tracks, sliding his wand back under the sleeve of his oversize shirt. He closed his eyes, sighing in relief.

"Death-"

'You were offered a better flat, easier access to potion making and magic overall, an accommodated lifestyle, yet you refuse.' A genderless voice boomed in the depths of Harry's mind. It forced him to press his back against the wall, just to remain standing. This voice was louder than anything his eardrums had ever heard. Harry opened his eyes when he felt a cool wind, then soft skeletal fingers cupping his cheeks. "Why, Master?" This time the genderless voice was softer, calmer, laced in with a biter sorrowful feeling. It almost made Harry believe Death could care for him out of goodness rather than servitude.

Harry had leaned towards the familiar touch. Last night, he had not been granted the luxury. He was asleep by the time Death came to him- if it actually did. "Why must you punish yourself furthermore?" Now Death had gone back to using its hushed tone. Now it was indefinite; Death was worried... or maybe disappointed? Harry was not sure, but he knew that Death was experiencing a sort of negative emotion foreign to the entity.

"A judge needs evidence to convict a felon because, even if it is obvious the felon is guilty, evidence makes it indefinite. The evidence makes who-it-is-being-used against guilty, and in plenty of cases, forced to come face to face with what they have done." A speech that had once started with an emotionless expression and equally numb tone was now filled with hurt. Death could see the pain all over the little boy's eyes, how his hands seemed to tremble with each word meant to hide the irrational fear. Harry looked away from Death, swallowing the lump in his throat that would betray his façade. "What would be the point of returning every ounce of pain and form of torture if they don't even know who I am, or the things they have done to me?" Harry asked in a soft and broken whisper, "The satisfaction would be null. They need to hurt me, like the family in my last life did, so when I kill them, I can see the same fear I felt when my uncle trapped me in a shed full of critters, or when my aunt's screeches of being a slob told me I would be whipped with the buckle of a belt, or when I knew I had to run whenever I saw Dudley with his gang of friends coming my way-"