Title: Odd Companions

Author: TardisIsTheOnlyWaytoTravel

Pairings: None at present... I mean, geez, he's only eleven!

Story Summary: When Harry Potter begins at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, he brings a rather disconcerting friend with him – Death.

Setting: AU first year.

Author notes:

IMPORTANT NOTICE

For those who read this chapter when it was first posted, it has had a substantial amount added to it! Remember I said there were two pages I was putting in the next chapter? Well, I decided against that and am rewriting this chapter, as it was originally meant to be. So re-read this one before you read the next chapter, as it has important plot information.

Oh, and I've removed the jillions of typing errors that were in this before. Sorry.

END NOTICE

ODD COMPANIONS

CHAPTER FIVE

"CHRISTMAS APPROACHES"

PART ONE

The day of the Gryffindor vs. Slytherin Quidditch match dawned bright and cold. The Great Hall was full of the delicious smell of fried sausages, the air noisy with cheerful speculation about the morning's match. Everyone was upbeat and excited – everyone but for Harry, that is.

Harry sat at the table staring morosely at his breakfast while a zombie-like Draco – today was one of his bad mornings – tried to convince him to eat some of it.

"Needteet," Draco mumbled, jabbing a finger in the vague direction of Harry's plate. He was holding one eyes open with his left hand in an effort to keep himself awake, but it didn't seem to working; after a moment his head rolled forward to plop into his bacon and eggs, much to the amusement of his housemates.

"You think he can breathe like that?" Adam asked in tones of intellectual curiosity.

"Oh, he'll be fine," Pansy dismissed his concerns, "he did that all the time last summer. He'll need to scourgify his face, that's all."

Meanwhile Death was watching Harry with faint sympathy.

"YOU NEED YOUR STRENGTH," he advised.

"I'm not hungry."

"IF YOU DON'T EAT, I'LL FEED YOU."

Harry looked up in alarm; sure enough, Death was wielding a fork in a fashion that was faintly menacing. The last thing that Harry wanted was to be baby-fed in front of the entire hall.

"I'll eat! I'll eat!"

Somehow Harry managed to get everything down and head off to the locker rooms to get changed; by eleven o'clock most of the school was in the stands around the pitch, and Harry was filing out of the changing rooms with the rest of the team over the vast, green expanse where the other team was congregating.

"Now I want a nice, fair game, all of you," Madam Hooch said crisply. She seemed, to Harry's faint indignation, to be speaking more to his team than the Gryffindors. Still, considering the look in Flint's eyes, perhaps it was justified. That didn't mean it was fair, though. The Slytherins got a raw deal from everyone.

"Mount your brooms, please."

Harry climbed onto his Nimbus. With a sharp, loud blast from Madam Hooch's whistle, fifteen brooms shot in every direction.

"Well, this is a surprise – Slytherin's mysterious Seeker is none other than Harry Alistair, the Boy-Who-Lived. Unexpected move there – first first year to make the team since the 1890s, if I recall – time will tell if his position's due to talent or celebrity – ooh, nice move from Gryffindor Keeper Wood there..."

Harry glared balefully at the commentator's box for a moment before taking off in search of the Snitch, faintly aware of the game going on several metres below him. Down in the stands Hermione Granger clambered across to the Slytherin stands where Draco had at last woken up somewhat.

"Mind your own business!" she shouted as she joined Draco to yells of "mudblood!" and "Gryffindor tart!"

"Hello," Draco said as she sank into the seat next to him, grumbling about supremacists and snakes and baseless prejudices. "I don't thin I've ever seen a Gryffindor barracking for Slytherin before."

"Don't be silly," Hermione reprimanded, snatching his pair of omnioculars and scanning the sky, "I'm only here because you're the only sensible person in our entire grade apart from Harry."

"Can I have my omnioculars back?" Draco demanded, looking irritated; clearly he wasn't used to people who behaved like he did.

"In a minute," Hermione answered, still watching Harry. He was currently diving for his life as the Weasley twins belted a Bludger in his direction. "Goodness, they shouldn't do that, he's only a first year. Those Bludgers could kill him."

"What?" Draco asked, even more annoyed; but Hermione had given a small cry of alarm.

"Give that here!" Draco snatched the omnioculars and peered up at Harry, just as his broom gave a violent lurch and started to roll over and over in the air.

By now the Slytherins were roaring that the Gryffindors has jinxed Harry's broom, while down on the pitch his teammates used the distraction to shoot a goal past the Gryffindor Keeper.

-
"Could the Gryffindors have jinxed it?" Hermione asked worriedly.

"Couldn't have," Draco muttered, swearing as Harry's broom jerked wildly and he fell grabbling onto the broom with one hand at the last minute to dangle helplessly. "It takes powerful Dark magic to interfere with a professional-standard broom, my Father told me. You'd have to be an adult wizard to do that kind of thing."

At his words Hermione yanked the omnioculars back again, but this time stared frantically out into the stands.

"What...?"

"Look!" She shoved the omnioculars back into his hands. "Look at Snape!"

Sure enough, Professor Snape stood in the teacher's stands, eyes fixed unblinkingly on Harry as he muttered under his breath.

"That's insane!" Draco said hotly; but Hermione had taken off towards Snape, intent on action.

Meanwhile Harry was still hanging from his broom by one hand as several people on brooms attempted to rescue him. The Slytherin team was still taking advantage of the chaos; Flint had scored five times in the last ten minutes without anyone noticing.

As Draco watched, Harry was suddenly able to hoist himself up onto his broom; looking around he saw a commotion in the teacher's stands centred around Snape, while in the row in front Professor Quirrell was being helped to his feet by two other teachers. Out on the pitch there was a faint, distant shout - "I've got the Snitch!" Harry waved wildly – and the game officially ended in complete confusion.

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Twenty minutes later Harry was ensconced in a corner of the school kitchens with Death, Draco and Hermione, being fed a strong cup of tea laced faintly with firewhiskey. Harry sat quietly as Draco and Hermione argued.

"Snape tried to kill Harry!" Hermione insisted.

"Look," Draco snapped, "he might have his faults, but he's my godfather and I know he wouldn't actually curse a student!"

"And I know a jinx when I see one," Hermione countered stubbornly, "and that was a jinx! You've got to keep eye contact and Snape wasn't blinking at all, you saw him!"

After several minutes of this, Harry felt revived enough by his tea to interrupt. He cleared his throat. Draco and Hermione turned to look at him.

"Look," he said patiently, "Snape might not like me, but I'm sure he wouldn't actually try to murder me. I know what you saw, Hermione, and I know how it looks, but all the same I'm not quite convinced. I think there's something missing here. I'll be careful around Snape, but it just doesn't seem like something he'd do, killing me in the middle of a Quidditch match."

"A Gryffindor in the middle of a Quidditch match maybe, if it were Weasley," Draco added helpfully, "but if he were going to kill Harry he'd either do it in a deserted corrider or something with nor witnesses or he's poison him with something that couldn't be traced."

Harry paused in the act of sipping his tea. Death patted his shoulder reassuringly.

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Not long afterwards December came around, and the Christmas holidays approached. Hermione was staying with her family for most of the holidays; Draco, like Harry, was going to visit his family for a few days over Christmas before returning to Hogwarts for the remainder of the holidays. The week before Christmas, Harry was eating breakfast when he was delivered a letter addressed in an unfamiliar hand. Curious, he opened it at once.

'Dear Harry,' it said in a most untidy scrawl, you're probably not knowing who I am, but I was a friend of your parents and knew you back when you was just a little tyke. I'm Keeper of Keys and Grounds here at Hogwarts, but I haven't had a chance to say hello, so would you like to come and have a cup of tea with me around three? I want to hear all about how you're doing. Send us a reply back with the post owl.

Rubeus Hagrid'

Draco peered over Harry's shoulder, nose wrinkling with distaste.

"Are you going to go?" he asked, his opinion clear.

"Might as well," Harry replied. "Got a quill?"

Harry borrowed Draco's quill and wrote a quick reply underneath, which he sent off with the post owl.

"I'm sure he's a very nice man," Harry told Draco. Draco snorted. Harry sighed.

Three o'clock came, and Harry duly made his way down to the groundskeeper's hut, dragging Draco along with him. Harry knocked on the door, only to set off a frenzy of barking inside.

"Back, Fang, back," boomed a voice. Harry and Draco exchanged uneasy glances. A moment later the large hairy face of the groundskeeper appeared in the door as he opened it, struggling to keep a hold on the collar of an enormous black dog.

"Hang on," he greeted them cheerfully. "Back, Fang."

As the giant man did his best to settle the dog, Harry and Draco walked inside. There was only one room inside, a great round room with a massive bed in one corner and a large table in the middle of the floor. There were hams and pheasants hanging from the ceiling, and a bright copper kettle boiled over the open fire. It was quaint and oddly comfortable, and Harry rather liked it. He breathed in the smoky smell from the hams.

"Make yerselves at home," said Hagrid, letting go of Fang. The dog bounded straight at Draco who went down with a startled "hey!" and a loud crash.

"This is my friend Draco," Harry told Hagrid politely, while Draco yelled, "This is assault! Assault, I tell you! I'll have you arrested!"

"'Ere now, get off 'im, Fang," Hagrid scolded and with one great arm hauled the dog off the spluttering boy. Harry tried not to grin at the sight of Draco sprawled on the floor, face pink and hair mussed up. Hagrid hauled him to his feet and Draco sat sulkily at the table muttering about vicious beasts and law-wizards.

"A Malfoy, eh?" Hagrid asked as he poured water from the kettle into the teapot, sparing a glance in Draco's direction. He sounded vaguely disapproving.

"Yes," Harry agreed. "He's not usually this disagreeable. I don't think he likes dogs."

The groundskeeper looked surprised at the idea that someone might not like dogs. He plonked mugs full of tea in front of the two boys, and a large plate of rather inedible-looking cakes, before seating himself in one of the oversized chairs.

Harry found himself being watched intently by crinkled, smiling black eyes.

"Well now, Harry," Hagrid said happily, "Las' time I saw you, you was only a baby. Yeh look like yer dad, but yeh've got yer mum's eyes."

Harry blinked. One of the things about growing up with the Dursleys was that he'd never known anything about his parents; indeed, until he was adopted, he hadn't even known their names.

"What'd they look like?" Harry asked curiously.

"Blimey, don't you know?" But before Harry could take offence, the large face softened into a very kind smile. "Well now, yer dad was a lot like yeh, same build an' hair an' everythin'. Right troublemaker he was, but a heart 'o' gold. An' yer mum, well there weren't anyone like Lily. She had jes' beautiful red hair, thick an' dark, and the greenest eyes yeh'd ever see. She was right clever, Lily was, with a real temper if yeh got her riled up." Hagrid chuckled. "Yer dad always seemed to be on the wrong end of it."

"I saw a photo of her once," Draco put in helpfully. He'd forgotten his earlier displeasure in his interest in the conversation. "She was really beautiful. Father always used to say it was a pity she was a muggleborn."

Hagrid shook his head darkly.

"Yer dad always put too much stock in blood if yeh ask me, Draco."

The conversation went on to other topics, and it soon emerged that Hagrid had an interest in animals of all kinds.

"Have you met the Cerberus on the third floor, then?" Harry asked slyly. Hagrid dropped the teapot. Draco yelped and scooted away from the wave of tea that spilled over the tablecloth in his direction.

"How d'yeh know about Fluffy?" Hagrid demanded, hastily mopping at the table with an enormous handkerchief.

"Fluffy?" Harry repeated.

"Yeah, he's mine – bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las' year -leant him to Dumbledore to guard the – "

"Yes?" Harry asked hopefully.

"Now, don't ask me any more," said Hagrid gruffly. "That's top secret, that is. Now listen to me, both of yeh – yer meddling in things thatr don't concern yeh. It's dangerous. You forget that dog, an' you forget what it's guardin', that's between Professor Dumbledore and Nicholas Flamel, an' it's none of your business!"

Harry and Draco meekly dropped the subject; but later, after they left Hagrid's hut, Draco said,

"That's interesting. Flamel's a famous alchemist. I wonder what he has to do with this?"

"He's a what?"

Draco explained alchemy to Harry, who spent the next hour in the library. Suddenly things looked very intriguing indeed.

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A few days later Harry was back at the Alistair estate with Lady Janet and her ageing father, preparing the house for Christmas.

"Help me pin up this tinsel," Harry instructed. Death obligingly helped him decorate the ceiling with tinsel and streamers before the two went off to lunch.

Lord Alistair spent much of the meal complaining about his arthritis, while Lady Janet suggested various remedies. Harry waited patiently for a break in the conversation.

"Well I got you that anti-inflammatory cream, Father," Lady Janet sighed, vaguely disapproving, "it's not my fault that you simply refuse to use it, is it?"

Her father huffed and muttered something. Harry cleared his throat.

"Mother, do you think that after lunch Death and I could visit Diagon Alley to do some Christmas shopping?"

Lady Janet gave him a piercing look, but nodded.

"As long as you're presentable and haven't left your room a mess, I don't see why not," she agreed. One of the maids came in with the tea then, and Lady Janet spent several minutes pouring a cup for everyone. Harry grinned at the maid, who winked back. Most of the staff had been there several years, and Harry knew them all fairly well.

"Emily," Lady Janet asked her, "is Harry's room tidy?"

"Yes my lady," the maid nodded, "he tidied it this morning."

She didn't mention that she and Lucy had helped. She had a soft spot for the little sweetie.

"In that case, Harry, you may visit Diagon Alley, but be home by four."

Harry bounced in his seat, making his grandfather ask irritably if he'd eaten Mexican jumping beans for breakfast.

Harry just grinned at him.

After lunch Harry and Death Flooed to the Leaky Cauldron. Strictly speaking, the manor wasn't supposed to be connected to the Floo as it was officially a muggle residence, but it was amazing what a personal visit from Death could get authorised. So Harry and Death Flooed to the Leaky Cauldron, where Harry promptly fell flat on his face with a startled look.

Death hauled him up by the back of his robes and dusted the small boy off.

Harry batted him away irritably and headed for the back exit, grumbling about the inconveniences of public transport.

Harry headed to the bookstore first. Hermione's gift was easiest; as long as it was book-shaped, she would probably like it. Harry wandered around looking at the various titles, before settling on Germanic Runes and their Modern Applications and a dictation quill. While he was there he also got a herbology book for Neville; after all, he was trying to befriend him, and he got the impression the boy wasn't particularly popular.

Harry sighed gloomily and tried to think what to get his mother, his grandfather, and Draco.

Eventually Harry found an odd little shop in Knockturn Alley that sold exotic teas and coffees and tobacco. For Lady Janet Harry decided to get a sweet-smelling black tea and a green one named, rather absurdly Harry thought, 'Sun Temple Under Heaven' tea, along with an oriental-patterned tea caddy. For Lord Alistair, who occasionally smoked (a habit he'd picked up during the war) he purchased a set of cigars whose smoke would manifest a vivid purple and smell of violets. Harry knew that the cigars were just the sort of thing his grandfather would find secretly amusing; it was quite likely he'd take to smoking them in the evening just to annoy Lady Janet with the smoke.

That left Draco.

"I have no idea what he'd like," Harry said desolately. He had half an hour left in which to buy cards, wrapping paper, and his friend's present.

"HE'S YOUR FRIEND," Death pointed out. "I HAVEN'T THE FAINTEST IDEA."

Harry's brows knitted together in thought.

"Maybe he'd like a pet?"

"NO. NO PETS," Death said firmly. "NUMBER ONE RULE OF PRESENT-BUYING. NEVER BUY SOMEONE A PET WITHOUT CHECKING WITH THEIR FAMILY FIRST."

Death could still remember the time Asclepius had given Zeus an Aitviras. That would have been fine, except that Hera passionately loathed snakes and Asclepius' gift had led to utter pandemonium as Hera tried to kill the magical serpent while it tried desperately to escape. No, pets did not make good surprise presents.

Harry wandered further down Knockturn and Death hastily caught up, giving the evil eye to anyone who might be thinking of accosting his charge. Death's evil eye was quite effective; two cloaked figures hastily withdrew while a hag selling dubious-looking foodstuffs passed out completely.

Harry wandered into a store selling second-hand knick-knacks. Of course, this being a wizarding store, the knick-knacks were far from ordinary. Harry stared in fascination at a silver spindly thing like a mechanical spider as it sat on top of a dusty old tome, humming softly.

"Look at these!" Harry presently called from the back of the store. "I found swords!"

Death obediently rejoined Harry, who was gazing at a glass case covering the back wall. There were many beautiful weapons on display, but Harry had eyes only for one: a slim, deadly sword with a hilt inlaid with black mother-of-pearl and an intricate silver snake wrapped around it, with two emeralds for eyes.

Death tried to hold back a groan. The last time he'd seen that sword it had been buried in Godric Gryffindor's shoulder as its owner died of a thrust through the heart. What made things even worse was that the sword held a powerful spell designed to help the sword return to its owner's bloodline – a spell that was right now calling fiercely to Harry.

Apparently Harry was a direct descendant of Salazar Slytherin. Bloody wonderful.

"I want this sword," Harry decided. "Isn't it the most beautiful thing you've ever seen?"

Death looked at the bared fangs of the silver snake round the hilt and refrained from comment.

"THAT SWORD IS SEMI-SENTIENT," he said instead, sourly. He could guess who was responsible, too. Meddlesome goddess! What was she up to now?

"Awesome," Harry enthused, apparently unaware of how potentially dangerous the sword could be.

"YOU WERE LOOKING FOR A PRESENT FOR DRACO," Death reminded him.

"Oh, right," Harry agreed, tearing his gaze from the sword for a moment. He returned to wandering around the shop until he found a dagger that, according to the notecard beside it, when used cursed its victims with random involuntary translocations until the proper antidote was given – a combination of a counter-curse to stop the translocations themselves and a potion to neutralise the trigger. Harry ended up buying the dagger for Draco (along with details of the curse and its antidote) and the sword for himself. Death's worries about the nature of the sword were pushed aside by the more pressing problem of how to make sure that Lady Janet didn't discover that her eleven year old son had bought a sword while under his supervision.

Omake:

Athena left her father's birthday part whistling cheerfully to herself.

Watching her father's disconcerted stare at the sight of an eccentric gift: 50 denarii. Watch her stepmother go into hysterics as the gift mysteriously got loose: 100 denarii. A free magical serpent that'd scare her stepmother every time Athena visited her father: priceless.

Athena made a mental note to send Asclepius and Eris thank-you cards.

AN:

Next chapter Christmas comes, Harry visits the Malfoys, get unexpected visitors of his own, and finds out some important things.

Zeus – King of the Greek/Roman gods. Father of Athena.

Hera – his wife.

Athena – goddess of wisdom, bit of a warlike one. Child of Zeus, but not Hera.

Asclepius – god of healing, and also of snakes.

Eris – goddess of strife and discord. Her greatest joy is making trouble.

And so the first of the real deviation from the books begins…

No there will be no pairings in the near future.

For those who want to know why Death speaks in caps: it was something I stole from the Death in Terry Pratchett's books. Death is not shouting; his words are kind of echoing and exist on several planes instead of just the usual one. His speech is ominous and carries unworldly depth. No, I am not going to change it, even if that would get me more readers. It is how it is and it will stay how it is! If I have to put this at the end of every blasted chapter I will get even more annoyed! Read these notes, people!