Our Corrupted Souls

"You, Master, are now dead," Death spoke chillingly. Its bony fingers free of flesh slid down its scythe. Its hood ducked itself down, almost to show a sign of reverence. "The ritual is now completed. I am, most definitely, at your service, Master."

The young man with raven hair and green eyes wasn't too pleased with Death. Before it said anything else, he carefully studied his surroundings. The way to the other life looked nothing like it had when he'd first died. Unlike the fist time, he stood outside Godric's Hollow, but the place was deserted and pitched black. It was so dark, Death easily blended in; the green glowing stone in its scythe was the only thing that alerted Harry of its presence. "Why did I not see you when I first died?" He demanded, anger from his previous life still lingering on.

Death raised a bony finger. "You were not ready for me to reveal myself just yet. Your soul was too pure to be corrupt just yet; first you needed to complete cycle when it came to being my master."

"And what is the cycle?"

"One must use the cloak to hide from the danger. Resist the temptations of the resurrection stone. Master the wand made from the wood of the Elder tree and kill with it. One needs to corrupt their soul by taking a life." Death left some lingering silence, wanting for its new master to take in the newfound information before asking, "what do you wish of me, Master," even though it knew what was going on in Harry's mind. "You do not have to move on, I can grant what you desire."

"You can grant me my family?"

Death's hood tilted itself, making it seem as if it had ducked its head. Its bony fingers lightly tapped its scythe, making the sound of bone and metal echo in Harry's ears. "Undoubtedly," it confirmed. "If you wish to pay the price."

"Do it."