Master of Death and the Equestrian Adventure.

by aliengirlguy

I hope you don't have Equinophobia...

Harry was not one who was overly surprised anymore, of course being a several millennia old immortal could have that effect on one.

Lord Harry James Potter, Master of Death grunted as he dusted off the ash that was falling from the sky again. He hated these dust storms, it always took forever to get the remnants of a long dead civilization out of his hair, though he supposed that was what he got for strolling through the remains of where the last gathering of humanity had once stood.

Decades, centuries of warfare and pollution had done a number on the planet to the point where the air had become increasing harder to breath and there was less and less food.

Many plants withered and died, soil became infertile, and in some cases even poisonous, hence the dust storms, and as a result the creatures the depended on the plants to live, and the creatures that depended on those creatures to live, died out.

Fish might have been an alternative if most aquatic life had also not been rendered nearly extinct thanks to climate shifts and waste dumped into their waters. What survived was likely more deadly then a knife to the jugular.

Harry had watched as Magic was the first to flee from the world. Unable to compensate for the muggles increased need to shat on where they lived, Magic had taken all those creatures, places, people, and things touched by its force and resettled everything likely on some other cozy planet or dimension somewhere. Of course, it left a little something, or someone, behind and to this day there was a bitterness in Harry towards Magic for it.

Despite the bitterness, he also couldn't really blame it, no matter how much he would have liked to. He had channeled magic true, he had been born a wizard after all, but the moment he became master of those blasted Hollows, he came under the purview of Death, and Death was a possessive bastard.

So he was left behind, no longer able to draw on his magical core, but at least spared some of the hardships of the planet around him in the beginning, thanks to a manor that Death had set up somewhere in the Himalayas for him, a place that would normally be inhospitable if it weren’t for he fact that he no longer needed to do such paltry things as breath, falling rather out of the habit in the high altitude as soon as Death had deposited him there.

There was only so long you can remain locked away on a mountain of course before you go stir crazy, and he had occupied himself by occasionally venturing off the mountain and wandering around the planet as it lay in its death theores.

He had tried to help humanity of course, some part of him was still young enough to not have the idealism of his saving people thing completely wiped out, back when there was still plenty of humans still around to save.

He had observed the muggles as they at first turned their efforts to trying to fix agriculture and trying to work whatever they could from the failing soil, but eventually the blight that had infected flora all over quickly worked its way through that plan into failure. Seeing where this would lead early on, some ingenious muggles managed to actually build a space ship, and upon completion the technological marvel had taken all they could of whoever was left to try their chances in the stars.

Those left, mainly adults by this point as fertility was low, and what few children there had been were the first on board, went crazy and either fought with each other and killed each other, or committed suicide.

The smart ones were the ones that chose the later option.

Harry had, a time or two, considered going with the muggles into space. After all, being part of such a venture was bound to be interesting, but in the end, perhaps some fool nostalgia for Earth, pity for those left to die, he had stuck around to see the end of it all.

“You are such a moody flesh bag aren’t you?” a grumbling voice commented behind him, drawing him from his maudlin trip down memory lane.

Harry huffed a laugh, snorting a wad of dust out of his nose, “Well, I am an old man you bleak arsed specter.”

“So rude,” Death hummed, flowing around the immortal in formless folds of darkness, “and here I was going to give you a present, but if your going to be that way…” Death’s voice trailed off suggestively.

Harry knew he was being baited of course, Death often did this, but he was so desperate for some sort of distraction that he was willing to play into Death’s non-existent hands for now.

“Alright oh glorious one, whose countenance brightens up my day, what did you bring me?" Harry intoned mock-grandly.

Death snarked something about cheeky brats, but eventually gave over, never able to keep a secret for long and always eager to gossip.

“I’ve decided that since you’ve been so bored lately, and with all your little mortal pets now gone, you would be interested in a do-over.”

“A Do-over?” Harry asked suspiciously.

“Oh Yes!" Death clapped its shadowy folds delightedly, "a chance to have a go at...well, living once again, growing up, having new adventures, etc. Though in a New World of course, since I can't go back in time, its really great fun!...Unless you enjoy this pleasant vacation spot that is?”

Harry rolled his eyes, beginning to lose interest again.

“If I wanted to go to a new world, I would have left with the muggles. You know how I feel about humans now after everything that has happened, it would just be the same thing over again, eventually. Like watching a re-run that last a few more centuries, if they last long enough that is.”

Death laughed, amused by Harry’s rather correct assessment.

“No, nothing so mundane my dear Little Master,” Death put the usual amount of amused emphasis on Harry’s so called title. It was considered a bit of an inside joke that anyone could consider themselves the master of Death of all things, no, his vaunted title was more along the lines that Death couldn’t bring Harry over to the Otherside. Harry’s body could be torn to pieces and spread all over the universe for good measure, and he would have poofed back into existence long before they finished.

Harry had tried a few times to kill himself, first out of desperation, then for the sake of boredom. Honestly, he never felt a thing if it was quick enough. From his perception, it was like he merely blinked.

“Well, being the classy personification of universal balance that I am, I have taken that into consideration,” Death declared grandly, "which is why I have decided to send you to spend some time in another reality as well as another world. One completely without humans, one that evolved along a rather different path then what you are used to... oh and is teeming with magic.” He added the last part more as an after thought.

Harry’s interest perked.

It had been along time since he had known the touch of magic. Which Death, the jealous (because of Harry's love of magic) but cunning twat, knew very well.

“Alright, it sounds interesting…so whats the catch?” Harry asked, with suspicion.

“My you’re a paranoid one,” Death teased.

“I’m an old man," Harry reminded him, "I’m entitled to paranoia.”

“Your hardly old,” Death poked at his youthful features and pinched his firm backside with figurative cold fingers.

Harry yelped at the cold and slapped the mist away, “stop that! Its not my fault that the package doesn’t match the soul you idgit!”

Far from being insulted, Death chortled. It was a sore point with Harry that he had retained his scrawny looks from when he obtained his dubious status at the ripe old age of 17 years old. It made it tricky doing things in the days when humanity was less worried about the world ending and more worried about this or that actor's/politicians sex scandals.

He’d also had the Department of Mysteries chasing his backside for decades, when they figured out he wasn’t aging, and were rather stubborn on the issue, not giving Harry much of a moments rest, the persnickety gits.

Now of course he somewhat missed the chase, it made for some sort of amusement at least.

“Well, you should be pleased with this one little stipulation,” Death purred into his ear, making Harry temporarily deaf when his ear froze solid.

“Stop that!” Harry groused, snapping off the damaged appendage, and grunted when a new ear took its place, “you know that hurts you moron!”

Death chuckled into his other ear, just to be a douche, causing a repeat of events and enjoying the rather colorful cussing before getting down to business, finally.

“Magic has...regrets about leaving you my little laster," Deaths tone was both pleased and pouty, "It and Life were agreeable to you entering this new reality, but they specified that you had to give up something, permanently. A sort of symbolic “death” if not a real one. Life is rather fond of the notion of rebirth, and has been annoyed with me for not being allowed to play with your soul.”

Harry snorted.

“Anyway, the two jumped at the chance when I asked them. Life to symbolically get what it wants in the end, even if not in the traditional sense, and Magic just wants you back in its clutches," the last rather sourly said.

“So, what is it that they want me to give up?” Harry asked, though he thought he could guess.

“Why that firm buttocks of yours of course,” Death purred, slapping said globes, and laughing hysterically when Harry cussed Death profusely.

“At this point, gladly,” Harry grumbled heatedly, glaring daggers at Death, “hopefully you wont shatter my new buttocks when I get it.”

Death hummed idly, not promising squat of course.

Harry groused to himself, then after a moment of silence as the dust continued to fall, Harry finally snapped “Well? are we getting on with it then?”

“Oh, well, alright then,” Death replied lazily, then floated over and suddenly began to move around him, circling. It began whipping around Harry faster and faster like a mini-tornado of blackness, as it was doing this Death added conversationally, "Oh I forgot to ask, I hope you don't have Equinophobia, or this will be an awkward transition," all the while unrepentantly reaching out with figurative hands and tendrils, feeling up the outraged Harry and touching him all over, who didn't get a chance to answer as his body was frozen solid.

Then the old fleshy shell of one Harry James Potter, Master of Death, shattered to a billion pieces and Harry’s seething soul disappeared into the dark folds, leaving nothing but dust behind him.

ooo ooo ooo

A/N: Equinophobia is a fear of horses, but can also transfer onto things like donkeys and Ponies.

Comments

[Texus]

hhhhmmm I like the idea, I just hope this isn't exactly one of those situations, where his past is going after him, causing trouble and stuff like that.
It is just that I have seen something like this already made in a pretty bad way, but not exactly like this story.

[Efadd]

blasted Hollows

Hallows

[Greenhorn]

Being a master of Death sounds like a pain in the butt... no, it should be called flank now, right?