The Devil's Son

The death of Harry Potter

Severus was not panicking. That's what he told himself as shaky hands raised the firewhiskey to his lips, the liquid burning on its descent. He was not panicking. Why would he panic, it was not as though he served a demon, who was secretly Harry Potter, who he was supposed to kill. Oh, and his plan to kill him had been ruined by the boy himself. Nothing to worry about. His walls finally dropped and he fell to the floor, panting as he held back his tears. He had not cried since Lily's death, and he would never do so. A gentle knock at the door forced him to gather himself off the floor, and Severus walked over to answer. Truly he could no longer be surprised at seeing Harry standing there, looking for all the world as an innocent young child. But truly was a monster. It stepped past him, entering his rooms without invitation, and Severus said nothing. He had no power here.

Hades shouldn't find this funny, he really shouldn't. But Snape looked completely dead inside, and it was hilarious. Before he knew it, he started laughing loudly, and doing so even more upon seeing the furious look on his professors face. "Okay, okay I'm sorry." After a moment he managed to stifle his laughter, and sat up. The potions master said nothing, so he sighed, disappointed. "Look, this isn't as bad as it seems." This finally elicited a reaction, causing Snape to explode in rage. "NOT BAD? I'VE BEEN ORDERED TO KILL YOU, THE ONE THING I AM PHYSICALLY INCAPABLE OF DOING!" He rolled his eyes, the wizard was seriously overreacting. "Don't be silly. There are lots of things you can't do, like drink poison without dying." The teacher just stared at him for a moment, apparently not knowing how to respond. "Listen, this can be easily fixed. Fact is, I'm getting kind of bored. Not just on earth but at home as well, in Hel. My kind, we need chaos, so it's time to move forward. One way to do that is to 'kill' Harry Potter. That gets Voldemort of your back, and frees me to cause more trouble."

Severus frowned, did the demon not understand the issue here? "You can't die!" It face palmed, and his old annoyance flared up at the thought of a child acting like he was stupid. "Yeah, Hades, the Demon of Chaos, cannot die. Harry Potter died years ago, this is just a form I use. You can kill it, I'll still be alive really, but everyone will think I'm dead." It made sense and almost seemed like it could work. Perhaps Potter would leave him alone then, would have no use for him. "And how would I kill you exactly?" At this, the boy grinned, and that smile helped him remember that this thing was not Harry Potter. That it was the monster. "That, little mortal, is up to you."

There was a thrill in the air, so palpable that he was sure even his human friends could feel it. Of course, it was unlikely they knew why he was so excited. It wasn't often that you looked forward to being murdered, but Hades did so like surprises. He had to restrain himself from investigating, from casting detection spells and sniffing his drink for poisons. It would look bad if people thought he knew he was going to die. He went through the whole day with an excited energy, but was left disappointed when it came to the end of class. Had Snape not thought of anything? It wasn't difficult to kill someone, there were loads of options! Annoyed, he stalked back to his dorms, throwing himself on the bed as he ignored his friends questions. Oh well, maybe it would happen tomorrow. What he hadn't expected was that Snape wouldn't be public about it. Of course it made sense for a spy, but Harry liked to show off. This was why he did nothing but rolled his eyes as he saw a bright flash of green light head towards him, making no attempt to move.

Draco stretched as he woke from his fitful sleep, joints popping as he groaned appreciatively. He hadn't slept so well in a while, and he flipped back down onto his sheets, reluctant to get up just yet. The room was silent, so clearly everyone else was asleep. Well, everyone other than Hadrian, he always seemed to be awake. Draco rolled to his side lazily, surprised to the see the shape of Hades still form on his sheets. The room was still rather dark, so he squinted, eyes adjusting to search for any movement. He found none, but the sight that reached his gaze was enough to startle him from his sleepy daze. Hadrian's previously silver sheets were a deep patchy brown, accented by scraps of green that had originally been his friends pyjamas. Shakily he stood from his bed, wandering over to the door and flipping the switch, hoping this was some sort of sleep-induced hallucination. Draco wasn't aware he'd screamed until the other boys woke, joining him in his panic. Their mysterious friend lay prostrate on his bed, stained with his own blood from the large cut on his neck. Harry Potter, Hadrian Morningstar, was dead.

Obviously it didn't take long to reach the papers. No one was sure how Skeeter had found out, but an emergency edition of the daily prophet was released that afternoon, declaring to the whole world that they had lost the boy they had only recently found. The people were in uproar, almost more so than the deaths of the other children, and aurors swarmed the castle, searching from dungeon to tower for the culprit. Hadrian watched all this from the shadows, grinning wider than ever before. The chaos was delicious, and it only further cemented in his mind that this was the right path. Hidden in the darkness, he could sow the seeds of anarchy, leaving behind the crumbling ruins of Dumbledore and his dreams. What did surprise Hade was his genuine remorse upon seeing his friends, pale, sad and traumatised. He tried not to dwell on the guilt, slinking away from the ruckus. He had other matter to attend to.