Death's Master and the Walking Dead

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter nor The Walking Dead

Author's Note: This fic is slash if that is not your cup of tea, well move along. There is also course language and content in this chapter and the story will eventually take a more gruesome turn once the apocalypse starts.

Chapter 2:

I was born as life began and as long as life exists on any realm I shall never cease to be. I am Death. I am absolute; for if you have life so shall you meet Death.

There have been many who have tried to defy me, prolong their meager existence. They have begged and bartered, but still they could not hide from me. Others have attempted to find a power greater than their own thinking in vain that such demons hold any sway over me. But alas the fools are but petty annoyances.

I am not God, do not have any control over the lives of men, and though their tries of avoiding me are bothersome I cannot directly interfere. Such irksome rules we are governed by so I have created my champions, the few mortals I deem worthy of welding a fraction of my power. Poor, pathetic mortals who believe that they are rewarded, that they have concord me, mastered me only to die and find themselves my soldiers.

I keep my pets for a few hundred years sending them from realm to realm dealing with a few pesky problems that interfere with my timeline and my reaping. But never have I had a predicament quite like this. How dare this interloper meddle with his reaping, this demonic pestilence had some nerve?

He could see it coming and there was nothing he could do to stop it, and it pissed him off. His newest champion was not ready he had not mastered the Hallows, but even if he was ready this was not something one could stop. The abomination had to happen his sisters of fate had spoken, little bitches that they were.

They never tell why something has to happen and heaven forbid that it affect his schedule his job, but no the abomination must walk with their shiny souls festering inside their rotting corpses. It sickened him.

"Get over here Sugar Tits," Merle hollered across the Lucky Lady strip parlor. He was in a deep slouch in one of the red pleather chairs with his dirty blue jean clad legs splayed wide open. Merle locked eyes with one of the strippers, a blond, big breasted, girl he doubted was older than twenty, and gestured to his lap, with his bottle of ice cold pilsner, indicating he wanted a lap dance. Merle turned to his friend, a rather squirrely looking dude, with a plaid shirt and a curly mullet, and clicked their bottles together nodding in appreciation for the curly haired blond head toward them.

The girl rolled her hips and gyrated effortlessly across his lap her spandex covered ass rubbed seductively against his tight jeans. Merle could not hide his drunken smirk as he watched her large D sized breasts shake in his face.

As the song ended Merle reached up pulling her close and stuffed a hundred down her tight boy shorts and whispered in her ear, "Tell Max, Merle is here to see him." The girl's eyes widen and she quickly made her way across the bar to the back room.

It didn't take long before Merle was led into the back room by a leggy brunette in spike heels, not that Merle noticed her shoes since his eyes were glued to her lace covered ass. She stopped at shiny black lacquer door. "Right this way sir," she said gesturing for him to enter the door way.

The room was dimly lit with dark carpet and deep red walls. Merle noticed two plush red velvet sofa's near the back of the room each with a gorgeous young hot girls lounging on them. The girls, unlike the topless ones in the bar, were completely nude the tiny Asian one sporting an impressive bush. Not Merle's cup of tea but nice to look at all the same.

"Mr. Dixon, I've been hearing good things about you. You seem to be moving product well."

"Yea well, ya give me good shit, sells fast." Merle replied giving all of his attention to the well-dressed man in front of him.

"Good, I want you to expand your territory are you up the task." Merle didn't get the chance to respond when his cell phone rang. He wanted nothing more than to throw the object into the nearest wall. He sincerely hoped that Mr. Max wouldn't have him beaten or shot from what Merle heard from Jasper Mr. Max had a bit of a temper.

"Are you not going to answer that?" Mr. Max's voice was cold and clipped sending a shiver down Merle's spine.

Merle was not one to be freighted ever. He got a kick out of shooting Iraqis for him war was fun just point and shoot where Uncle Sam tells you. It was all fun and games until he mouthed off to his superior, man had a stick up his ass a mile long and took great offence when Merle pointed it out. Who knew one could be court marshaled so quickly. Jasper, Lt. Jasper Reid, put him in touch with his cousin Andrew who was working selling smack for Mr. Max throughout the Atlanta area, and well so far it had been a profitable enterprise.

"Wasn't planin' ta." It was one thing to piss off his superior officer and quite another to piss off a man who would derive pleasure from shooting him in the face.

"Go on then put it on speaker." Merle grit is teeth and did as he was told.

"Dixon." He answered.

"Merle, 'bout time ya answered."
"Daryl, whadda' want, I'm busy." His little brother always had terrible timing.

"Dad's dead thought ya might wanna know."

"About damn time." He responded, there was a grunt on the other end then a click as his little brother hung up.

"So your old man is dead, you okay with that." Mr. Max almost sounded concerned; if you mixed up concerned with indigestion.

"My dad was ass, wasn't worth the tissue I wipe ma ass with." Merle replied.

"You are dismissed." Mr. Max said as he moved over to pick up his drink. "I will call you with the detail. And Mr. Dixon do not ever leave your phone on in my presence again." With that he gestured to the door and moved over to a plush red sofa on the other side of the room.

Harry idly wondered if Daryl still lived in town. He didn't really see him sticking around after finishing school. Personally Harry felt the farther away from David Dixon, Daryl got the better. But still, Harry thought it would have been nice to see him again. He never really got the chance to thank him six years ago.

Harry had scrimped and saved and finally had the cash to move back to that small town. He had opened up an odd's and ends store where he sold the things he fixed and refurbished. It was a good life; a hell of a lot different than what he had imagined, but not a bad life. He rarely thought about the wizarding world now.

It was near closing and Harry figured that no one else was going to show up. He vaguely considered closing up early. He hadn't really had a day off since he opened since he couldn't afford to hire anyone else to run the shop and frankly he was getting a bit stressed out. Even when he wasn't working he was either hunting new broken junk or back in his cabin fixing it. He was trying to get a good back stock ready so he would always have merchandise on hand.

Harry was heading to the door in order to flip the closed sign when the chime above the door rang. It took Harry a moment but he'd recognized that face anywhere.

"Daryl." Harry said surprised.

"Harry."

"I thought you left town?" they both said at the same time.

"I came back." Harry replied

"Never left," was Daryl's response.

"Oh." Harry muttered. "I don't think I ever got the chance to say thanks so… er… thanks you know for saving me." Harry said with a bright smile.

Daryl was stunned he never really thought he would see his first friend again. He completely forgot why he came in the store in the first place.

"I'm gonna go fishin' on Saturday you wanna come?" Daryl asked.

"Yea, sure sounds fun." Harry didn't even think about the fact that he was going to have to close up the shop on his busiest day.

"You got a rod?"

"Yep, I bought her up in Atlanta last summer. I haven't really had much chance to use her though."

"That's fine. You still know where the cabin is?"

"Yes."

"Good we leave at 5."

"I'll bring the beer."

"Look at you all assimilated and shit, you got a rod, got your beer, we'll make a southerner out ya yet." With that Daryl turned around and walked out of the store.

AN: Okay so here is the latest installment sorry for the wait, I have no clue where this is going, I really should have planned this out a bit, but well we will just have to see where the muse takes me. I'm probably going to move up the time line in the next few chapters of so because I really want to start writing about the walkers.

I should also have the next chapter in Shattered Magic up soon.

I have this really good idea for a HP/LOTR crossover and it is really nagging at my brain but I am not sure if I want to start another project while I am working on two fics already but my muse is being a bit annoying.

Anyway Good, Bad leave a review tell me what you think.