Fics like Death Walks With Him

“Who are you?” Harry demands. “What are you doing here?” The boy pulls a foot up and wraps his arms around it, watching Harry with amusement. A curtain of light brown hair tumbles around him, but his eyes… they’re old. “You know who I am,” the boy says. “No, I don’t,” Harry says harshly. “And you shouldn’t be sitting on Professor Dumbledore’s grave!” The boy doesn’t laugh, but his eyes sparkle with amusement. “We’ve met, Master. Don’t you remember?” Something inside Harry viscerally revolts at anyone calling him “Master,” even in such a playful tone. “I’m no one’s master!” he snarls in reply. “Oh, but you are,” the boy says, and if Harry thought so before, he’s sure now that while this… person before him might look like a boy, a child, he is not. “You, child, are the first to hold all my gifts since I brought them into this world to give to your ancestors. My stone. My cloak. And my wand,” he says, and Harry feels the Elder Wand virtually hum in his pocket. “You have mastered my Hallows, and so, you have mastered me. You are the Master of Death, Harry Potter.”

Fics like Death Walks With Him

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