the gift of death

prologue: unfixable

Harry sighs, looking around at the destruction. "Ade, are you sure that I can fix this? It seems pretty unfixable. And that I can come out of.." He flounders for a word, ignoring the screams of those around him. You got used to it after a while, and learned to tune them out.

His companion speaks up. "Yes, Hadrian, I think you can." Ade—or, as they're more commonly known as, Death—sighs as their reapers rush around, escorting souls as needed. "And don't worry, you'll be able to go back into retirement when you want—" They pause, and move to the side with Harry as a building collapses where they were.

"I'm not in—" He flushes, and looks away. "I'm not old enough to be retired, Ade. I'm only, what, 653? You're—what, 13, 14 billion years old?"

"14,679,654,003 this coming Saturday, actually." They grin at Harry, "And you're several lifetimes older than any mortal. I think you've earned your retirement and senior citizen benefits several dozen times over."

Harry sighs, and looks around. "What happened anyways? Last I heard from this universe, the Here-Me was drugged to the gills with love potions and compulsions. Why should I help this world? Where even are we?" His emerald eyes glance around, and his magic tests the air and their coordinates. "Oh, ew, radiation." He shudders, withdrawing his magic back into him, and layering his masks back.

Ade rolls his silver eyes. "Honestly, you'd think you would've kept up on the world news."

"I was in Avalon! They don't exactly deliver the Times—"

"A few months after Tom was defeated, one of his followers escaped from Azkaban. One Antonin Dolohov? Anyways, he had an Animagus form—an alligator, if you'll believe it; the funniest thing was that it had the Dark Mark on it's forehead instead of it's arm—" Ade chuckles a bit, remembering what it looked like, "—Anyways, eventually he accidentally transformed in Times square—"

Harry snaps his fingers, "That's where we are!"

"Yes, great deduction skills. Anyways, it was caught on cameras, and it got spread around. Eventually, he was captured, and Magic was discovered." Ade pauses again as their—sibling? He wasn't entirely sure—walked up to them. A direct contrast to Ade's silver, gray, and black monotone, she—they? Universal forces and pronouns had a confusing relationship—she walked up to them, dressed in golds and purples and blues, with one golden eye and one black. She grinned.

"Hello, Harry!" Taika—Magic herself—said, waving, "You've grown up!"

Ade sighed, and continued, "To make a long and confusing saga short, essentially they became hellbent on killing all magical beings, specifically with nukes. However, this quickly went badly, and Magicals developed semi-resistant wards to keep out radiation. I say semi, as they didn't keep out the blast—it was close enough. The Muggles are all currently dying of ashes and radiation sickness. Magicals are all dead from the boom of the bombs. Or most, anyways; it's hard to tell."

Harry sighs, turning to Death. "And what do you want me to do about it? Go back in time?"

Ade rolls their eyes, and adjusts their crown—made from white lilies and black roses, and silvered thorns—sighing in discontent. "Actually, yes. We've chosen you, mainly because you have some experience in these matters. When Aroa gets here, we're going to bribe her with her favorite chocolates." At his incredulous stare at Death, they shift. "We all like chocolate. Mortals have ruined us!" As Harry continues to stare, they sigh in discontent. "I like chocolate covered cherries, Taika likes sea-salt caramel, covered with dark chocolate, with sea salt sprinkled on top, and Aroa likes Snickers bars. She also likes the matcha flavored chocolates, so I got her a gift basket composed of those two."

Harry shakes his head, chuckling. "Alright. What age will my body look, and when are you sending me back? Where should I get my wand?" He looks down on his 17-year-old body, turning to Death. "Will I stay seventeen? Or will I deage? Age? Give me some details, please."

"Well, it's part of the surprise." Taika says, grinning at Harry.

He sighs, and turns as an older woman approaches them, dressed smartly in a business suit. "I presume you're Aroa?" He asks, kissing the back of her hand when it's proffered to him. Really, couldn't they be more subtle about their names? Not that he was complaining; he didn't want to call them Magic, Time, and Death; but their names—except for Death's—all meant roughly what they were. Aroa meant—roughly—era, age, and time. Ade meant crown. And Taika means magic, or spell.

Really, really subtle, the forces of the universe weren't.

"What do you want, Ade?" Aroa asked, seeming bored.

"Well, I was thinking we could send Hadrian here back in time..to prevent the end of the world. Of course, there are two options; way back or just back?"

"Just back. If that doesn't work, then we send him way back." Taika says, getting nods of approval from the other two.

"And why should I help you?" Aroa asks, blinking at him. "I have no incentive. Time lasts for more than just this world.

"Because I brought you Snickers, and some matcha chocolate." Ade says, innocently.

"Deal."

"Alright, shall we get started?" Death asks, and grins. They slam their heel into the ground, and nothing seems to form. Magic comes forward, and rests her hand on Harry's head. "I give you my gift. May you use it wisely."

A warm feeling blankets him, making him smile. "Thank you, Lady Taika."

"I give you my gift." Death rests their hand on Harry's head, and a brisk wind sweeps through him.

"Thank you, Ade.''

"You will receive my gift when the time is right." Aroa says, munching on a Snickers bar.

Ade positions Harry in the center of the ouroboros, and then begins to chant, "Tempus: meo audire vocationem. Mitte ad me potestates: Soror mea est scriptor vires, et animae suae is tergum in vicis et in ruina eius ne orbis terrarum, et ne morte omnium. Tempus: meo audire vocationem; mitteret ad Hadrian James Potter-Black-Peverell-Gryffindor-Slytherin origine animae ad locum suum. Tempus, vocationem audi me, et det mihi velle meum*."

"I agree with this." Aroa says, smiling at Harry.

A golden light shines from around the city, spinning to envelope Harry in a golden cocoon, seemed to be made of hundreds of thousands of individual strands, each coming from a different person, all of them dropping instantly—

He drifts back....back...back..back back back backbackbackback—

And then he lurches to a stop.

*Time: listen to my call. Send me powers: My sister's strength, and she is back in time to prevent the destruction of her soul and the death of all. Time: to hear my call; to send Hadrian James Potter-Black-Peverell-Gryffindor-Slytherin Origin of Souls to his place. Time to listen to my call and give me my wish.