Summary: Maybe, this was Death. Not like his first one in the hands of an enraged woman but by the hand of an equal, honourably, in battle.
Rating: T (I know, I'm surprised too :D)
Warning(s): Character death (times two), implied cheating & murder, crossover. No swearing as surprising as that is :D Drabble (ish) one-shot.
Pairing(s): Implied HarryGinny & DeanGinny (why, yes, I do think Ginny is of the bed-hopping type (to put it somewhat politely)
Music/inspiration: Midnight Syndicate - Gates of Delirium, In Flames - Moonshield (which is actually Ulquiorra's theme according to Kubo Tite)
Disclaimer: Neither Harry Potter or BLEACH are my property. They belong to J.K. Rowling & affiliates and Kubo Tite & affiliates respectively.
A/N: I don't want to throw my baby to the vultures!!! (not that I think of my readers as vultures but I'm just specially protective of this for some reason, it's been sitting finished for a month now :D)
Yes, it's a crossover, my first crossover to be exact. Yes, I've been reading too many crossovers lately, or more like nothing but crossovers, if you don't count my newest obsession with anything Alice in Wonderland :D
But, yeah, I wanted to do one of those Harry-as-someone-fics and since it seems there aren't too many GOOD "Harry as Ulquiorra" -fics (I swear, the one multichaptered I've found...I'm not going to say anything in case the author sees this and throws a hissy fit...well, Harry is a survivor, Ulquiorra is a survivor, neither would try and commit suicide, now I'm done.) and I'd gotten the idea stuck in my head I decided to write it down. There may be more of these "Aspect of Death" -things, if I get the characters to comply with me. (suggestions are welcome but not guaranteed to be finished) At the moment, Sirius is being difficult.
If you really, really want to know why Ulquiorra of all people...read "Bruised and Scarred" by RazielCullen3, there's a scene where Harry meets all the Espada and thinks that if he was a Hollow, he'd most likely be like Ulquiorra. So, blame that :D
Also, there may be inconsistencies and repetition but do and try to remember this is something of a drabble...ish...thingy xD
So, try and enjoy :D
- - -
Aspect of Death: Nihilism
- - -
He wasn't really even surprised when he caught Ginny giving head to Dean. That still didn't mean that the betrayal didn't hurt like a bitch, didn't hurt like something scalding hot was being poked through his heart or maybe it was something freezing between his ribs.
"Harry? Wait, it's not what it…" she tried to defend her actions but he only turned on his heels and dropped the bouquet of white lilies in his hand.
"Harry! Where are you going? Harry, wait, I can explain! Harry, please, just say something!" She was crying, he noted with an odd sort of detachment.
He turned around to face the woman, Ginny, and his eyes were so dead she flinched away. "What exactly could you say to make this all better?" He waited a moment for her answer but she just shuffled in place and stared at her feet. "I thought so too."
With that Harry Potter left the house he'd shared with his family for the last seven years.
- - -
It was somehow very vindictive, yet boring, to watch the proceedings of the Wizengamot's trial. A trial where Ginerva Weasley-Potter was charged with the murder of Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived and Saviour of the Wizarding World and all things good, among other things. Harry thought there was something...interesting about seeing his wife alternate between trembling in fear and standing proud and defiant when accused with the slaughter Ron had walked in on.
But this really wasn't the place for him to be right now. He could feel something closing in.
- - -
He woke up on sand of some kind with a pale crescent moon shining high on the black sky. Completely starless, he noted with the same detachment he'd held since his death.
Maybe even before it.
- - -
His life was slipping away between his fingers, or talons in this case, and he couldn't make himself care. Well, slipping metaphorically. Literally, fading would be a better word. Where once was a well of memories and a wealth of laughter, was now misty moors with cunning spirits and wailing whispers.
He could only take to the skies and feel the wind rush past and for a split second feel alive again. But that was something too poetic for a Hollow, even one such as him. He crushed the thought mercilessly and soon spotted a wandering, lost Plus between some piles of trash on an empty alleyway.
Perfect. Absolutely perfect.
- - -
Fifty years, maybe more, maybe less. He wasn't sure anymore though he thought that it hadn't quite been a hundred years since his death. Fifty years and the whispers about a man, a shinigami, gathering them to serve his purpose were becoming more and more frequent.
- - -
He woke in a white room.
A blindingly white but blessedly dark room with a few humanoid shaped beings in it.
There was a man with bored eyes and brown hair, no a Hollow, judging by the mask fragment, a female with long green hair, also a Hollow, and yet another male with a kind (twisted and false) smile and also brown hair. The last one was giving out his hand for him to take. This man, he noticed, wasn't a Hollow.
"What's your name, young one?" the smile was still there and still just as false (kind).
"Ulquiorra Ciffer, sir."
- - -
The woman had sparked something in him and now as darkness was seeping closer he thought maybe this was the thing human (or shinigami) trash was always so afraid of. Maybe, this was Death. Not like his first one in the hands of an enraged woman but by the hand of an equal, honourably, in battle. That was something he'd hoped to achieve before.
Something to aspire to.
Something none of the others could understand, his longing for something different, for something cold and warm and dark to embrace him and take away thought, feeling and action.
Maybe this would be that moment.
And as he feels himself floating on the wind, he turns his head towards the woman, something in her eyes, almost like sadness but not quite fear. His mouth is moving but he isn't sure what he's asking.
His last conscious thought is of reaching for the woman and so this is what a heart is? not so bad, I suppose...
- - -
A/N: So, umm, thoughts? Good, bad? I shouldn't consider myself worthy of writing crossovers?
And, yeah, didn't want to repeat the whole Bleach storyline so I just skipped that :D Actually, almost ended this at the "Ulquiorra Ciffer, sir." line but then came "Moonshield" and gave me inspiration for the last part.