Son of Magic

Chapter 15

But what did that matter when he'd locked it all away from him anyway?

Merlin, help him. This was all so grossly fucked up.

Before he could lurch himself into any further spiralling thoughts, he felt an all too familiar presence appear behind him. It took everything in him not to turn around, but he stubbornly stood his ground facing away from him, clamped his eyes shut, and bit his tongue to keep his mouth from shooting off.

They stood in tense silence for a while until Death couldn't seem to take it any longer.

"Alright," Death sighed exasperatedly. "I've no idea what's wrong with you, Harry, but I gave you a day to get your shit together before coming here to get you. Everyone back at Hogwarts is going ape-shit over your disappearance. They were even thinking that you've been kidnapped by Grindelwald, so you might want to let everyone know that you've not been taken prisoner," he informed him, hoping to appeal to Harry's sense of compassion towards his worried friends. But Harry stayed silent.

Death waited for a few beats, hoping that Harry would snap out of whatever funk he found himself in, pronto. But no such luck.

"Would you like to discuss what's weighing you down, or would you rather continue sulking and throw everything we've planned away?" Death finally snapped at him.

Harry's shoulders shook as he began to chuckle darkly.

"I don't know, Death. Would you like to discuss the summer of 1945?" he asked him, still not turning around.

"Summer of 1945?" Death wondered out loud, clearly confused with the turn of conversation. "What are you on about, Harry? That's the summer after Riddle broke your itty-bitty heart. You stayed here in the cottage and-" he abruptly cut himself off, finally catching on. It was clear in the way his breath hitched, and in the way he stumbled back a few steps, that Death finally understood.

"Indeed," murmured Harry tiredly. "You didn't just take away my memories, did you? Now that I'm able to recall everything with perfect clarity it's easy to piece together. You took away my curiosity about you as well, didn't you? I mean, I spent centuries wondering...but then it was gone. I've not thought about it since, and if my thoughts do stray that way, they are quickly turned around, almost as if manipulated to do so, wouldn't you agree?" he asked him evenly, but he betrayed his agitation by uncrossing his arms from over his chest and running a hand through his hair.

"I always knew you'd look like an angel. That confidence and swagger had to stem from somewhere, right?" Harry chuckled again, this time it came out sounding broken and defeated.

"Harry-" Death started to say, but Harry wouldn't have any of it.

"Save it," he growled. "I'm not ready to hear your fucked up excuses. One day isn't nearly enough to process the shit you pulled—to process the number of memories you took away from me," Harry hissed, feeling his anger bubble to the surface. "Just stay the fuck away from me until I figure shit out."

Harry was about to leave, but he had one last message he needed to convey before doing so, and it couldn't be done facing away from Death. So Harry slowly turned around to face the dark hooded man that had caused his most recent pain and confusion.

Emerald green eyes stared directly into the dark void behind the hood, perfectly able to picture the crystalline eyes hiding in the shadows.

"Tamper with my memories again, and I'll burn this rotten world to the ground myself," Harry warned him before disappearing silently from sight.

Arcturus was not a happy wizard. He wasn't happy at all.

He had just spent the entire day searching the castle and its grounds for one infirmary escapee, Hadrian James Peverell.