Harry was pulled out of his thoughts, once Mrs Weasley passed their door. He was reminded of his original plans and then he waited for five minutes in silence, just to be sure that he wouldn't be disturbed. Harry looked at the door and then at Death. This had to be long enough. The being seemed to read his mind and reached out to touch his arm. As soon as Death's hand landed on Harry's skin he was whisked away into the shadows. It felt like he was moving through water for a moment and then he found himself on a chair in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place No. 12.
Harry blinked, disoriented, realizing that he was sitting on a chair opposite to his Godfather, a bottle of Whisky standing between them.
Death stood looming behind him, his hand slipping from Harry's shoulder. Harry missed the contact.
Meanwhile, Sirius was staring at a glass in his hands. He didn't look well. The flickering light from the fireplace had his eyes appear deep in their sockets, unkempt strands of hair framed his face which was dominated by a sombre expression. Harry could see the similarities between him and Bellatrix. She had the same dark hair and just like Sirius, she possessed the high cheekbones every Black seemed to inherit. Even Malfoy, the prick.
From the corner of his eyes, Harry spotted a sleek, black snake slithering up the chair next to him. But just at that moment, Sirius flinched heavily and bumped into the table with his knee. In the last second, Harry was able to grab the bottle which wobbled dangerously in its place.
"Merlin's balls, Harry!" Sirius pushed the hair out of his face. He seemed pretty calm, but most of the whisky from his glass was now forming a puddle on the table, "How did you get down here?"
Harry smirked. "You know, it's not good to drink on your own," he said and pulled the bottle towards him.
"Are you going to scold me now too?" his godfather asked and the scent of alcohol wafted over to Harry.
"No, it's more of a proposal, really," Harry replied. He licked his lips and fixated a shelf not far from him. Death had told him that he could summon any and everything if he just knew where an object was. A glass a few feet from him should be a good enough starting point and the ministry would hardly trace him in a place under the fidelius charm, would it? Focusing on one of the cut whisky tumblers on the shelf, Harry tried his best to visualize it in his hands. When it actually appeared out of the blue within his palms, Harry was so surprised he almost dropped it. Yet he grinned victoriously as he put the glass onto the table. It didn't even have a chip. Sirius raised an eyebrow.
"You know, it's also not good to drink if you are underage and I'm not even asking how you did that thing with the glass. But please be my guest," Sirius said and made a wide gesture with his hand, "You are lucky that I don't care too much about rules right now. This is a bourbon. It's been rotting in this house for years. It's pretty decent but I doubt you want more after the first sip either way." Sirius took the bottle out of Harry's hand and poured some of the golden liquid into Harry's glass before he refilled his own.
He watched with a half-smile when Harry tipped the glass to his lips, probably awaiting a reaction that didn't come. Once the familiar burn of the alcohol sliding down his throat had passed, Harry addressed his godfather. "I promised you I'd tell you everything you want to know, but there are some conditions. There are things you can't tell anyone else and I might ask for a favour."
Sirius expression became more serious. Turning his own glass in his hands he looked at Harry contemplatively. "You know some things, don't you? More than everybody thinks you do," Sirius stated and he stared at Harry. There was not a trace of the drunkenness from a few seconds ago. Harry nodded, before he looked at the glass in his hand, the golden liquid sloshing as he contemplated how to go about this.
"I think it's better if what I am telling you now doesn't reach Dumbledore's ears," Harry voiced and looked back up. Sirius raised his eyebrows and leaned forward.
"You didn't do something not quite legal, did you?" Sirius asked and despite the serious approach, a smirk tugged on his lips.
"What do you think of Voldemort?" Harry asked instead of answering. Sirius sat back in his chair, visibly confused but also a bit suspicious.
"Why are you asking me this, Harry?" Sirius inquired an odd expression on his face and fingering the glass in his hand. "The answer is obvious, isn't it? I mean he is responsible for so many deaths. He killed your parents..." Sirius' voice trailed off.
"And you've never killed somebody, have you?" Harry said casually while he watched Sirius closely. He felt Death slithering over his thigh while Sirius' knuckles grew white as he gripped his glass tighter.
"I have," he said, but quickly continued, "But you have to understand, Harry. These were different times. It was war. The people were afraid. Both sides used curses that were able to do more than simply capture the enemy. But the things Voldemort did, or his followers... They were feared almost as much as he was. The Longbottom boy, he is in your year in Hogwarts?"
Harry nodded. "I know the story. His parents were tortured to insanity."
"Then you know what they were capable of. What they are still capable of," Sirius replied.
"I won't justify their doings," Harry said, "But you have to admit, that the light side wasn't much better." Sirius opened his mouth and shut it again.
"Dumbledore was never a friend of the usage of dark curses," he settled on eventually.
"That doesn't mean that members of the Order didn't use them," Harry said. "And I am not even talking about the Aurors. This is not about light or dark magic. By all means, I don't care. A simple diffindo cast with enough force can cut through skin as any dark curse can. War is war and both sides weren't saints in this."
Sirius looked at Harry as if he was seeing him in an entirely different light. Harry noticed how his godfathers' hand had reached for his wand.
"Merlin Sirius, I am not possessed or something," Harry voiced with a brief laugh.
"Well, you have to admit, someone who is possessed would say the same thing," Sirius retorted with a dry smile, which somehow made him appear like a shark in dangerous waters. The expression on his godfather's face made Harry pause.
After a moment he began to talk with what he hoped was an earnest expression on his face. "Sirius, I'm not the same boy I have been a few months ago and not only because Cedric died in front of me."
"I kinda thought of that," Sirius replied with the same dangerous smile, but he was still gripping his wand tightly. Harry thought about the best way to explain the situation - at least partly - and what he was going to tell Sirius. Harry hoped that this wouldn't end badly. Too much and Sirius would probably try to pull him in front of Dumbledore, even if his godfather wasn't fond of the headmaster right now.
Harry opened his mouth but didn't really know how to start. "I've gained possession of a few artefacts," he said eventually.
"What artefacts?" Sirius asked suspiciously with a tinge of worry in his voice, "You don't feel differently because of what happened with the wall, do you?"
Once more Harry was surprised by Sirius' perceptiveness. "Yeah, no. It's not because of that," he replied. He hoped that what he was trying to do next would work. 'Nothing is ever really lost...' Death's words echoed through his mind. Harry closed his eyes and when he opened them, the objects laid in front of him. Sirius gaped.
"This is James' invisibility cloak," his godfathers said and he let his fingers run over it.
"Yeah," Harry said, "It's one of three," he elaborated, not sure if this was a good idea.
"Three..." Sirius looked up and his hand fell from the cloak. Only now he seemed to notice the other two hallows. "This is a wand... but it's not your wand, although I know it from somewhere." Harry nodded and pointed at the stone.
"And that is the last one."
"A gem?" Sirius said and picked it up to inspect it further, "With Grindelwald's symbol?" Sirius stared at Harry, the whisky forgotten on the table.
"It has more than one meaning," Harry scoffed, somehow slightly offended. "First of all, it's the Peverell coat of arms. I'm distantly related to them through the Potter line. The cloak was originally owned by Ignotus Peverell."
"Ignotus Peverell? But that should be impossible. He lived centuries ago; the cloak should've stopped working after all these years," Sirius rationalized but then his eyes widened, "This wand, I remember it now. You didn't steal him from Dumbledore, did you? Is that the reason I shouldn't tell him about this?" Sirius stared at Harry, "As much as I am impressed if you managed to steal it, are you aware of what you have done if that is Dumbledore's?!" the man said with a serious expression. Harry smirked.
"This isn't Dumbledore's original wand. He won it when he defeated Grindelwald." Harry had to admit that it was more fun to watch Sirius putting things together than telling him outright what he wanted him to know.
"Why are you telling me all this?" Sirius asked.
"The stone once belonged to Cadmus Peverell and the wand was owned by Antioch Peverell, the oldest of the three brothers. It is the most known of the hallows." Harry grinned when he saw how realization hit Sirius.
"No..." Sirius gaped, disbelievingly looking from Harry to the three Hallows and back, "It's just a children's story..."
"It isn't," Harry said with some satisfaction, "It's true." He took the stone from Sirius' hand and instantly it melted back into his skin. The same thing happened when he touched the wand and the cloak and this time Harry used the opportunity to observe the way the objects trickled into his body.
"But... how? It's not like I don't want to believe you, but..."
"-but what?" a hoarse voice interjected and Harry saw out of the corner of his eye how a very human Death appeared behind him. This time not invisible, judging by the reaction of his godfather. Sirius jumped up and threw his chair over in the process. He was frozen where he stood. His shaking hand was pointing his wand at Death. Silent terror was written all over his face.
Harry turned around to face the being. Death was smirking a sharp smile, his eyes this time fixated on Sirius. Harry turned back to his godfather.
The man was now stumbling backwards, wand slipping from his hand. With a clattering sound, it hit the ground. Sirius' face was drained of all blood. His eyes had widened to the point that they were showing more white than anything else ...yet his pupils were like black holes as he fixated something that - to him - appeared to be pure horror. He opened his mouth in a silent scream.
Harry observed confused yet curiously how Sirius was sinking to his knees, his eyes still focused on Death.
Confused Harry turned around to look at the creature. The being looked like he always did. Okay, maybe he had made himself a tad taller and he smiled his predatory smile... but that still didn't explain why Sirius was now rocking back and forth, silently mouthing words that made no sense.
Harry watched him, feeling both disturbed and fascinated. The heavy silence was only interrupted by Sirius' quiet whispers. After more than a minute of Harry observing his godfather, he remembered that it was probably not a good idea to leave Sirius in this state. His current fondness of the man overpowered his curiosity and - even if he wasn't ready to admit it to himself yet - a certain thrill at the fear permeating the air.
"Death," Harry said sharply and the being turned to look at him. Sirius' head snapped up and his eyes wandered searching through the air. Harry realized, that his Godfather was no longer able to see the creature. "What happened to him?"
Death still smirked, and the feeling of deep predatory satisfaction pulsed through the bond. Even Harry grinned. He couldn't deny that he didn't understand it - that he wasn't at least partly responsible for the feeling they were sharing.
"I showed him what I really am, or what you may call a glimpse of it. Ordinary people can't comprehend Death, in this pure form. Not when they are alive. He won't even remember what he saw. He isn't able to. It will vanish like a nightmare. He will remember that he was terrified, but not why."
Maybe Death had not lied when he said, that he was lonely the time Harry had asked for his reasons behind creating a Master of Death. "But I have seen you too. I mean I see you all the time and don't fall to the ground screaming for help. And when you appear as a snake, the others are also able to see you," Harry voiced his thoughts.
"I could also choose to appear in my human form and be visible for the others."
"So, you are hiding your true self all the time that I don't end like Sirius over there?" Harry asked and gestured in the direction of his godfather.
"No, I don't. You are an exception. You have always been the exception. Even when your soul was ready to go on, you didn't shy away. Most souls are afraid of me even after they have died, but not you. It was ...intriguing."
"But I'm not really dead anymore and you still look mostly the same…"
"No, you aren't. But you don't remember what I looked like. What I really looked like, when you encountered me for the first time and you don't try to look past my surface form… You are my Master. You could look further if you wanted to." Uncertainty flowed through the bond and the echo of what was …excitement?
Sirius blinked and stood up on shaking legs. "What the- What the Hell just happened?" Harry turned to his godfather, who picked up his wand and gripped it tightly.
"It's okay. He's gone," Harry lied and he stopped grinning even if he was still amused.
"He?!" Sirius said, "That was a he? This thing- What… I don't-," Sirius gripped the back of his chair.
"Yeah well, I don't think that he's a he exactly," Harry said. Death stepped closer.
"What- What did I just see?" Sirius asked, still pale and slightly shaking.
"You caught a glimpse of Death," Harry stated.
"Death…" his Godfather uttered. Harry pushed the bottle over to Sirius.
"You could use a drink now, I think."