A/N: Okay, I know that I'm not done with Details In The Fabric or my revision of By Deaths To Die but there are absolutely NO Death/Harry Supernatural/HP crossover stories on this site! What the heck, writers?! I wanted to read one badly and when I found that there were none, I decided that I was duty bound as a fanfiction author to create one and so here it is. This is a prologue so ir's bound to be short. The next chapter will have the meat and potatoes for you. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Supernatural. Sod off.
Prologia... O' Death
Death has a curious way of reshuffling a person's perception of the world, of time, of yourself. But mostly of death itself. When I died, there was no white light or unending darkness. Not even the train station from before. Of course, my death couldn't be standard issue. How many people had the chance to die twice in one day, after all? One moment, I was on the battlefield, my spell colliding with Voldemort's warped and twisted form and the next, I was standing in a library. Dark mahogany shelves stretching on up into the heavens, a plush black rug beneath my feet. There was light hailing down from somewhere but for all of my observations, I couldn't deduce from where. The change took me so by surprise that for a moment I stood, expecting the Dark Lord to jump from the shelves to strike me down. But he didn't. Absent was the taste of smoke, the smell of burned dreams and my friends fighting all around me. There was only the books and the silence. When I died, there was only the library and a man in a suit of sable. A man that called me Master and that I would soon come to call beloved.
Being the Master of Death was no great trial. With Death at my side, we explored vast worlds, universes and realities. He bore both my wonder and inevitable blunders and mishaps with an amused, fond eye. I bore his strict edicts with the rambunctiousness and Gryffindor bravado that I had been so famous for in my youth. Time bore on, as well as time can flow when one bounces from world to world. Every day, my love for my companion grew and every day we watched and reaped the souls of the dead silently and efficiently. Death and I did not return to my home world until I had reached nearly an eon old, by inter-dimensional years, and when we at last received the call to return, it was with the whispered curse of "Bloody Winchesters" on my lover's lips. We were watching over a certain Necromancer vampire slayer in a certain universe when one of our reapers appeared at Death's side. It was a good thing she chose to seek him out because at the moment I found myself occupied on stage, spinning around a pole for the drooling masses. So what if I'd loosened up a little since Hogwarts? Remember what I said about reshuffling of perceptions? The club music pounded all around us, vibrating through my ribcage sensually. The low lights played over my long hair that I flipped like it was a bloody prop, sliding my hips down that shining pole as if it were something much more satisfying. Death's smirking eyes had not moved from my gyrating form. Tessa's eyes slid over me with a glance filled with incredulity. By now, she was well use to my antics. I watched the two of them converse even as my dance ended and the audience begged me for another. I made my bows and rejoined my lover below just as he cursed the thrice damned Winchesters and all of the Heaven-kind along with them.
"We're needed, love. We have Angels beginning apocalypses and all manner of unfortunate events."
I huffed a short laugh. Humans did seem to think that their problems were the most important at any given moment, didn't they? Ah, well. For all of my immortality, I was still technically one of them. I blame some sort of sick, masochistic nostalgia for my next words. For better or worst, I made the call for us all in that moment.
Sliding into Death's welcoming embrace, I gave him and our Reaper a grin, "End of a world? Sounds like a party."
'I looked up and saw a horse whose color was pale green. Its rider was named Death, and his companion was the Grave. These two were given authority over one-fourth of the earth, to kill with the sword and famine and disease and wild animals.'