The Master of Death

Chapter48: The Chamber of Death

With a calculating look, Harry took in the state Croaker was in. Small droplets of blood stained the grey fabric of his sleeves as well as his collar. Bloody scratches marred his wrists and face. His eyes were glassy as they stared blankly into space, the chains around his hips tangled. A finger of his left hand twitched.

This was nothing like Sirius, who had recovered mere moments after being granted a glimpse of Death's true form. This state appeared like something indefinitely more permanent.

Thoughtfully Harry tapped the strange wand against his thigh.

He might be able to convince people that Croakers newfound insanity stemmed from him trying to get his hands on a prophecy, once he'd modified his memories. But then he would have to leave the Unspeakable here. And that certainly wouldn't make the circumstances of this whole situation less suspicious.

There was no doubt that when Croaker was found, Harry would be the first person to be called in for an interrogation.

And memory charms were not infallible. Voldemort had broken through the obliviate cast on Bertha Jorkins during the Quidditch World Cup. And while Harry doubted the Ministry would go to such lengths, who knew which safeguards an Unspeakable like Croaker had in place?

Not to mention, an Unspeakable who dabbled in time.

Better Croaker didn't get the opportunity to be questioned in the first place.

Sighing, Harry stepped closer to the man, who didn't even blink.
He tilted his head. It really was a pity. He'd found the Unspeakable rather interesting.

"I'm going to need your help," Harry addressed Death while his eyes remained on Croaker. "We can't meet any people on the way."

"Of course... Master," Death purred with a sharp grin. Harry could sense the beings curiosity like spiders crawling over his neck. An echo of excitement fluttered in Harry's stomach. He couldn't tell if it was his own.

The borrowed wand in his hand burned coldly when he pointed it at its owner.

His presence here today would be a coincidence. Strange perhaps, but nothing to be questioned.

And if an Unspeakable died performing his job, well then that was just an unfortunate accident.
A brief smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he remembered the words of warning Hermione had once given him.
After all... terrible things happen to wizards who meddle with time.

Harry turned the wand in his hand, while Death hovered over them with a dark grin.

His voice sounded almost indifferent when he spoke the word. "Imperio."

The frozen muscles in Croakers face began to twitch while a pleasant warmth climbed up Harry's arm. He couldn't help but grin when the magic-induced high reached his brain, the effect of the dark magic settling over him like a blanket.

At his command, the Unspeakable awkwardly rose to his feet. He stared at Harry blankly, waiting for instruction.

Remembering, that Croaker was still in possession of his holly wand, Harry silently commanded him to hand it over.
The man obliged easily, his hand hovering in the air for another moment once Harry had taken the curse box from him before it flopped uselessly back down.
Lacking a decent place to store it, for the time being, Harry offered it to Death. "Would you hold on to that, please?"

"Certainly," Death voiced with a terrible grin, the bond connecting them letting Harry feel exactly how delighted the being felt over the current events. And in the same fluid motion of pulling the box from Harry's grasp, the box was briefly obscured by Death's arm and then had vanished from sight.