Title: Always Fated.

Crossover: Harry Potter, Percy Jackson, and Marvel. (Which, as the disclaimer, I own none of.)

Summary: Armed with the knowledge that Voldemort will die regardless, he chooses to stay within the world of the dead – only it doesn't work out quite like that. Marked by Death itself, Harry finds himself face to face with its Greek personification, Thanatos, who offers him a job.
A HP/Percy-J/Marvel crossover, and literally God!Harry – though, by no means perfect!Harry.

AN: This is pretty much the result of a hallucination/dream I had when I was ill. I woke up and decided I loved the theory of it all – especially since I've been on a Harry Potter and Percy Jackson/Harry Potter and Avengers crossover obsession. I went through everything I'd written up in my "just-getting-over-my-medicine-induced-randomness and fevered-illness" stage and somewhat corrected things and tidied it up, but the main plot points and general ideas are still the same. I haven't altered those in any way for the main reason that I have a habit of over thinking things when I re-read my own work and then tend to decide I hate it all and then press delete. So, yeah, because I want to actually finish this, I'm just going to write it all out and then edit and alter later. I feel it's not terrible, though, so I'm happy to leave it for now; it does kind of just jump right in, though...

Something you might what a clarification on: This is an AU, so in this world (where Harry chooses death), Doctor Strange does not, nor will ever have, the soul gem (for soon-to-be obvious reasons) and some other things may/will be different. Also, in this AU, Harry's earth (which will also be the earth in which Percy Jackson is born) will not be Midgard. Therefore, there are two planets that are very similar, but have developed differently, which both call themselves Earth. Marvel land will thus be called "Midgard", and Earth shall remain as Harry's planet "Earth".

Estimated Parts and Fandom Appearances (if you want to know before reading): Part One is pretty much Harry getting his feet as a [spoiler] etc. etc. Part Two is the Percy Jackson's Plot line. Part Three is the Heroes of Olympus. THEN there will be A TIME GAP, possibly a chapter or two explaining that time passing. Then, Part Four is Thor and the Avengers. Part Five is Thor: Dark World, which mentions of Guardians of the Galaxy. Part Six is Avengers: Age of Ultron. And so on. This – hopefully – will be a long but not boring fic (hopefully). If you could let me know if things do get boring, I'd be grateful.

Now, another point, Harry will NOT always be actively involved in all books/films. He may just hear about somethings and help where he can, or he may hear about it, voice his worry and be incapable of doing anything else. So, if you want Harry-the-Hero being the Only Hero this is not for you. Harry will always want to try and help, but sometimes he won't be able to – and sometimes the only thing that will stop him is his knowledge that he needs to do something else, instead. That he just needs to let that other thing be.

All Canon pairings for now; they will not remain indefinite. If you like any specific pairings let me know and I'll ponder on it. Same if your against any set pairing.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this! If you don't- because I know this won't be for everyone - I hope you find something you do like. And, also, feel free to leave me a review telling me what you think of things, and I mean all the positive and negative – constructive criticism will be brilliant (so, so brilliant). Hopefully, no flames, though...?

Anyway, thanks! :) Onwards!

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Always Fated.

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Part One

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"... Will they be able to defeat him?"

"Of course, they will, my dear boy. You have made sure of that."

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1 –

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Harry James Potter gets on a train and does not know what to expect. He looks to his old headmaster, who is seated beside him, and notes that although the man is still smiling sadly, there is no condemning emotion within his eyes – and rightly so, the boy thinks, with all things considered. He still finds himself explaining, though, for whatever reason, even if the only words that pass his lips are the smallest part of the truth.

"I feel like I need to go in this direction." He says quietly, and in response, the man simply eyes him, those blue orbs seeing through him, as always. He supposes that, it truth, is answer enough. Perhaps an agreement on Harry's own thoughts; that it is not his place to say one way or another, is not his place to voice on what Harry does or doesn't feel, or what Harry does or does not do.

This one decision, after all, is all Harry choice, and seconds ago, he made it.

"It is time for me to get off." Dumbledore says instead, and smiles at Harry's brief confusion. It does not feel as if it is time for this train to stop, after all - at least, not for him. Dumbledore nods to him, as if the thought is written across his features. "It is my stop, but it is not yours. I'm afraid I cannot go on to that part with you. That, alas," he shrugs, with his usual benign smile, "is something only you can do. But know this, Harry, I have a feeling that you, least of all, have anything to fear from it. Not that I imagine it would halt you, even if you did." The man smiles again and stands, as Harry digests that, his spirit moving far easier and smoother without its aged body confining it. "We will all see you soon, though, I should expect. I imagine your parents for one will look forward to seeing you again."

Harry smiles a little, his heart soaring at that remark, with hope and nerves – he thinks he should quite like to see them again, too. Though, he still swallows a little at the concept - at the fact that this is, well and truly, his After Life, and that he will face everyone lost to the war. That this is his everything after meeting Death. He blinks a little, focusing on that thought, and relishes in the feeling of contentment that flows within and around him, due to it.

"I don't think there's anything for me to fear, either." He admits – not from Death, anyway. He can feel there is something more, something more to this situation, something more to come from this point. Yet in this place, in this space of white light and love and easy emotions, he can't help but simply expect it – respect it, almost. "To the next adventure." Harry echoes a memory, looking towards his old mentor, and feeling that the words are completely correct in this situation.

"To the next adventure." Dumbledore easily agrees. "Goodbye for now then, Harry." The man bows slightly to him, and then it is almost as if the man was never there in the first place. He neither dissolves before Harry's eyes, nor exits the trains doors. He is just no longer there. Harry, for whatever reason, feels that he is fine, though. That he has probably simply returned to his family. To his younger sister, perhaps. He feels it so truly, in fact, that he almost takes it for knowing.

He smiles at the idea, at the hope that the man has finally found his peace, before he contentedly continues on his journey alone.

Not long after, however, something within him, something similar to intuition flickers through, and with a nervous shiver, following his old professors movements, he begins pulling himself to his feet.

This is it, he reckons. This is his stop.

Another adventure, something whispers to him.

Another adventure, he agrees.

White soon fades into darkness and darkness blazes into multicolour.

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The first thing Harry sees, as his eyes clear from the brightness, is the somewhat odd sight of a tall man stood straight backed before him, with a clipboard in hand – though, in all honesty, for Harry to call him such seems like an understatement. There is clearly something extra, something more, to the man - the being - that dons the size and the guise of a mortal human, and it is something that he finds himself recognising, in an almost comforting confusing kind of way. As if he has just come home after a too powerful confundus charm to the head, and abruptly found a lost cherished item, he isn't truly sure he actually owned. It creates a happy barely understanding fondness within him, that echoes through him, lending more contentness. A part of him, he finds, even wants to melt at the man's feet and hug him dearly.

"Harry James Potter." The being greets, with a small barely there smile.

It is not a question, Harry knows, but he clears his throat, and admits, "That's me.", with an odd impulse to flatten his hair, all the same – and it is odd, isn't it? He suddenly realises. Because his body is no longer with him, and therefore, neither is his unruly mop of Potter locks or his throat to clear.

"It is nice to see you so soon." The being adds welcomingly, and Harry notes, even as the appearance of the average man abruptly wavers and the new form suddenly becomes clear to his eyes - dark long hair, dark pleasing features and large, truly amazing black wings - that the words ring completely true; the male infront of him seems to genuinely like that he is here with him, today. That he chose the choice he did. Harry briefly wonders if its odd that he finds that it makes him relieved.

"I am Thanatos." He tells Harry, vanishing the clipboard with a twitch of his hand, and Harry feels a deep understanding ring within his soul. He had studied many religions at his old primary school, after all, and he even found himself favouring this one.

"The Greek God of Peaceful Death." Harry quotes, and, odd or not, he is simply more awed then surprised.

It is much easier, he thinks, taking things in stride once your world has already been shaken about and rearranged – and his world has already been altered like that many times, before this; Magic doesn't exist, he hears echo in his head, and then the correction of magic does exist. Then, of course, when he is twelve and the "chamber is merely a myth", but it turns out the chamber is not a myth and neither is the basilisk within. Sirius Black is a murderer... It has happened time and again to him. Year after year. So, yes, he decides fairly quickly, without any denial at all, that meeting a god, after following Death, shouldn't be - isn't, at all - shocking. It doesn't stop his nerves from reverberate through him, though. A normal reaction, he reckons.

Thanatos nods his head, once, in agreement, smiling that smile down at him, while his dark eyes seem to look straight into everything Harry is, or could ever be, and for a second - a split moment in time - Harry thinks he sees fascination there in his gaze. It is gone as quickly as it comes, however - if it actually was there at all. "I'm glad you are a believer. It saves time in one sense, even if time doesn't matter right now."

The god gestures for him to sit, and Harry abruptly notices that there are two large golden chairs about him, one directly behind Thanatos, and one besides him, and that there is a desk, filled with paperwork, inbetween them. It looks, now Harry is looking, as if they are in a very large circular red painted room, that looks suspiciously like a modern office, in old Greek settings. He spends the next few seconds, the ones he takes walking to the specified chair, to quickly take it all in. He muses, eyeing the paper towers, that maybe even a god of Death has to do some form of homework. He finds, for whatever reason, that the thought depresses him.

"Thanks." Harry tells him quietly, feeling strange as he climbs onto the chair. His feet dangle off it, not quite making it to the floor, and making him feel far closer to a child than he really is. Harry admits that anyone would probably feel like an infant seated before an immortal divinity, though. The passing fact causing him to ponder why he is here, before him, at all.

"Is this a Judgement?" Harry asks, almost as if compelled. He remembers learning about that in his Year Five primary class, as well. Only isn't there supposed to be more than one judge?

Thanatos grins at him, and it looks almost fond. "No." He tells him, before adding, "If you were to be Judged by me, though, I think I'd take you straight to Elysium."

Harry ponders a little at that, shifting in his spot, as he tries to remember which form of souls go to that After Life. "The ordinary" is his first thought, but… No, that's not right, is it? It's the Heroes, he realises.

"Oh." Harry says, flushing uncomfortably, for whatever reason. "I… well, I only ever did what I felt I had to do..." He trails off, and the god easily agrees.

"But you still risked your life to save a girl you didn't truly know from a mortally wounding troll at eleven. You still faced a dark one without care for yourself, only the world at large, months later. You still went down in to a chamber, faced a thousand-year-old King Serpent, to save your friend's sister. You still saved your godfather, where others had not. You still faced adversity and came through it stronger, remaining true to yourself. If those are not heroic, then what is? And," he adds, "that is not adding in how you died – or how many lives you went on to save by doing it. By how you did it."

Suddenly burning brighter, Harry supposes, when the list is brought up like that, that the god is possibly right in his reasoning. Still, he doesn't really seem heroic to himself… Brave, sure. Or maybe foolishly reckless?

"You are good man, Harry Potter." Thanatos states. "Do not ever doubt it - it is simply in your nature. And you faced Death with clear acceptance, which is somewhat rare, especially in youth, so personally I'm a fan. No whinging, at all. And more importantly still – at least, for why you are here, with me, right now – you managed to resisted its temptation, even after holding it for a year and using it – an impossible feat for most." There is definitely fascination there now, Harry decides, as he blinks, confused. The silent question must grace his face.

"The Gem. The Stone. The one in the Snitch." Thanatos explains. "Found and named as the Resurrection Stone, I think, to your Wizarding world."

Oh. That. Harry nods, still feeling a rise in his confusion. "Well, yeah." He says in the resulting silence. "It – er, well, it kind of made sense when I was walking to Death - to you? That it shouldn't be used. I mean – at least… not by me? I guess I got the feeling it could be used for a lot, but… well, it helped me, but I shouldn't use it, I don't think."

"Exactly." Thanatos agrees whole heartedly, leaning forwards in his seat, and Harry hears the gods earlier words of "why you are here" echo through to the forefront of his mind. With a sudden flicker of uneasy, yet strangely content understanding, he begins to believe that a lack of life doesn't necessarily mean being at peace.

The next adventure... Echoes through his head, again - only this time it seems like the voice is not his.

"It helped you, willingly and easily," The god continues, staring intently at him, "and it didn't negatively affect you or your soul, in any way, while it did so. You don't feel the need to covet it or use it. It doesn't call to you, at all."

Harry, feeling rather disturbed at those words, momentarily forgets his thought process, and wonders what, exactly, the resurection stone could have done to his soul, and why nobody bothered to state anything like that within its expanding legends. He debates on whether to ask, debates on whether he really wants to know, but Thanatos continues on before he can decide, either way.

"Death," He speaks softly, "- and I do mean Death, as in the vast and ever being, the Entity, not a specific personification with Death's blessing, like me… and now you – seems pleased and hopeful by that. Somewhat relieved, in fact. I felt it – just as I felt it when you were Marked by Death as a toddler, directly after the dark one tried to kill you the first time and she refused to take you early, with the help of Love. Just as I felt you accept her Mark, minutes ago, when you chose Death over living your full life on the mortal plane. I felt it echo and settle within you, around you."

"You have a new fate now, Harry, if you decide to take it." The god states bluntly, folding his hands onto the tabletop. "And like every path, it is a double edge sword."

Marked by Death? What does that even mean? He was thinking, only at that latter sentence, he feels something more akin to his previous uneasy understanding re-flutter within. It makes sense, he finds, and not simply due to the words spoken, either, but to the sudden resonance of a silent plead that abruptly reverberates within his very essence. A sudden plead that is abruptly there, but not for him, or from him, but to him, instead. A plead for what, Harry doesn't yet know, but he does know that he has never been able to deny those kinds of pleads.

He sighs carefully, near silently and nervous, before making a gesture to show that he's listening. This - this is going to be important, he feels, and possibly, probably, the reason he felt he should cross over in the first place.

"She - Death" Thanatos clarifies, his voice suddenly falling with a brilliant smooth gentle severity, "- wants to know if you will help her. You see, the gem itself is far greater and far more important than any of the mortals ever thought to comprehend. It needs to be protected from those who would use it to destroy all, and tipping the balance far too far in the other direction. We need to re-establish the balance, yes, but as the future is set, countless galaxies will fall. And so, it needs to be kept and hidden - at least, for now." He pauses, eyeing Harry's extremely still form, and in that moment it feels like eons pass him by. "Will you help her hide it? Protect it?"

Harry's not-really-there breath is slowly released. Maybe I was Marked by Chaos, too? He wonders slowly, for the first time in his memory feeling paralysing shock, before wondering why anyone, let alone a god or entity, would need him, of all people, to help with anything like that, anyway. Galaxies will fall? How could he help stop that? Thanatos smiles amusedly, as if he wonders it aloud, and finds it funny.

The god then tells him, time seeming to slow to pass eons once more, that he is allowed as long as he needs to think it over, if he pleases, and to ask him any question that he has.

That will probably take more than a few months, Harry admits silently, closing his not-there eyes in a mixture of stunned thought and strange lulling acceptance. Everything in him, every part of himself, feels as if he should have - and maybe a part of him did - expect something like this. It is just his type of luck - or trouble calling personality?

Sighing, he opens his eyes, and catches the look the god is gracing him with, the one that tells him quite clearly that he already assumes what Harry's answer will be.

He supposes, after everything he's done in his life, after every instinct he has had to protect others, he is right to assume it so easily. He has already stated, after all, his acts in the name of saving people from a doomed fate, and he has an feeling that this is no different – only apparently much larger in scale. The silent plead in his gut agrees.

"Will it definitely come to that?" Harry asks, thinking of divnation, and already somehow knowing the answer. Already feeling it. There will always be Grindlewald's and Voldemort's, after all, he whispers to himself. "Someone finding it and using it destroy galaxies? Is it possible?"

"Not only possible, Harry, but someone already wants to." Is Thanatos easy response, and Harry thinks: Of course, there is.

"How would I even go about protecting it, though? Or hiding it?" He marvels, panic erupting in the back of his conscious. There's apparently someone who wants to destroy whole galaxies ,and they think I can help?

Why do people always think he is capable of great things?

"I mean, I'm not – I'm not that powerful. I'm not." He adds, to the man's annoyingly disbelieving look.

"You are." Thanatos tells him, and his wings twitch almost irritably while he does. "Your soul has been Marked by Death, just as mine has, and you are also Marked by Love, and Marked by Magic. Your soul was powerful even in your mortal body; the only difference between you and I is that you chose not to act on that power that you wield. The fact that you chose not to do so, doesn't mean you cannot do so, should you desire it; only that you chose a different path. You have power – not to mention your own skills - and it should be enough should you choose this path."

Marked by Love and Magic, too?

Harry blinks almost owlishly and stares at him, absorbing the words. Only, "That doesn't really answer my previous questions, though." In fact, he is aptly reminded of Dumbledore and his never ending conversations of non-answers.

"And I will not answer them until you choose one way or the other." The god states.

Of course you won't... "You already know I'll probably help, though –" Harry accuses weakly, because as already stated it's in his nature, and he is actually thinking of accepting. Kind-of.

"The choice should still be yours to say so, though. Be it agreement, or no." Gets quickly shot back, and Harry respects that at least.

He sighs, pulling a hand through his hair, and all but crumpling back into his giant seat, a recurring problematic thought ricochets through his head. "What if I agree to help and fail you all?" Because, let's face it, any plan involving Harry tends to fall completely apart and decend into pure chaos.

"Then you will fail." Thanatos states and shrugs, smiling fondly again. "You will be doing us all a service by at least trying – and," he adds, never encouraging nor discouraging. "you will be rewarded for it."

There is a single beat of silence, while Harry digests that. Rewarded how?

He eyes Thanatos and knows that the god wouldn't tell him just yet, should he even bother asking.

"I still want to hug you." Harry replies, abruptly changing the subject and rubbing at his face, while he thinks, and thinks, and thinks some more. Thanatos simply lets out a light laugh in response, but doesn't speak again as his mind whirs.

Harry wonders, as he debates, in the expanding silence, if this really truly is why he came here – why he chose Death and got on the train; this task that is being asked of him. He thinks on that possibility for a while, but still doesn't, can't reallym bring himself to regret his choice. That feeling that he got in the station. This feeling he has now. It still feels right for him, in its own way. Death, over Life.

Harry eventually lets out a breath, knowing that even if he took all the time offered, even if he took centuries, he will likely reach the same conclusion each time he thinks on it. His immediate reaction to help - however annoying he finds it, however frustration it sometimes feels - always seems to win out. He sighs, scrubbing at his eyes, and then declares, quietly but firmly, even as he shrugs grimly, that he'll help.

If only because the stone apparently effects other peoples souls.

Thanatos smiles widely, and the silent pleading that had been quietly within him earlier, rushes to a wild flow of thanks. "Excellent." The god says, climbing to his feet. "Now I only need to ask someone on Olympus to help us, and for that I will be taking you with me." He tilts his head, and admits, "It might feel a bit strange now that your soul is aware of it, but I'll be putting you back into the White Space, while we go meet her."

"Alright then." Harry says to Thanatos, nervously standing, following his lead, as the other walks over to him.

The god, he sees, seems to grow right before his eyes - or maybe it's that he shrinks? Either way he gets scooped up very easily, and is rather beyond happy to note that the immense content feeling quickly returns to him, as soon as he is, and placed in - of all things - Thanatos' white small drawstring pocket bag.

'Oy, Harry,' he imagines Fred say to him, later, 'why didn't you come visit us straight after you'd died?'

'Er, well, I sort of got pulled into another fiasco and then got put into the bag of a Greek God. Sorry 'bout that.'

Harry rubs at his eyes again, and let's out a light laugh.

.

Minutes or hours pass, and Harry spends his time looking around the familiar halls of a ghostly white Hogwarts, relishing, once again, in the contented atmosphere he is surrounded in. He notes the feelings of movement without seeing it, and listens as his mind reminds him needlessly that he is apparently travelling to the realm of the gods.

He honestly has no idea how he gets into these situations.

He sighs, callapsing in his dorm bed, and soon after Thanatos comes to a stop.

Harry isn't instantly removed, however, and so he decides to lay there, arms outstretched and legs sprawled, while he creates possible ideas on how he is, how he could ever, protect something of this magnitude.

.

He sees the unending white as it fades to Darkness, and then returns into that multi-coloured light. It is a different type from before, though, he observes.

The place he is now in seems far brighter than the last he had entered. Before, once the light had faded, the walls had held a twilight feel – a darkness or night time impression, even in the middle of the day. These spacious walls, on the other hand, seem far brighter to him; all blinding light, and possibly even in the darkest of winters. He is momentarily glad – immensely thankful, even – that he has gotten used to white world, because if he hadn't, the transition between the two, he realises, would have hurt.

As it is, Harry still blinks rapidly, for minutes on end, before he is capable of seeing anything but white, and looks around, awed, yet mainly still near blinded.

So, this is Olympus. He thinks, dumbstruck, seeing a sight few other mortals ever would, along with a few types of beings – nymphs and satyr's, mainly, he summaries, squinting about – that even the magical brethren believe extinct.

Well, aside from Luna, he admits, and suddenly hopes, with an odd amount of zealous, that she manages – has managed? – to make it through that last battle. People like her are far too rare.

"And this, as you know, is Harry." Thanatos' voice states, interrupting his thought process, and Harry spins around to look at him - only he doesn't really get that far, as midway he is wholly distracted.

Beauty is an understatement, he decides almost fiercely, before flushing in embarrassment, and then grimacing with feelings of guilt. Remember Ginny? His brain whispers, as he watches feminine features quickly and easily blur and spin into varying degrees of absolute perfection.

The woman sat before him, on a cloud like bed, is clearly a goddess – and one that is clearly the personification of the power he is rumoured to feel in abundance. It isn't hard to know who she is with that in mind. Even without it, though, without the beauty and the sheer emotions she invokes, something within him simply knows, somehow.

"Aphrodite." He greets a little breathlessly, and finds it amazing that without a functioning heart, he can still feel it create phantom pounds within his chest.

The goddess of love smiles at him, wide and happy, and leans over to stare at him. Her ever-changing eyes start from the top of his head and go to the tip of his toes.

"You're right, Thanatos." She says, and her voice is just as perfect and lovely as she is; it is all light, to Harry, all light and wind, and sky, and music, and happy thoughts combined. "He is one of mine. You love fiercely don't you, little dove? I've been watching over you, you know, since that night? I used to watch over your mother, too; she was fire-hearted, a red headed beauty, a lover and warrior, both." She nods brilliantly, and he knows his eyes are wider than when he first caught sight of her. One of hers, he echoes slowly, and the mentions of his mother!

"Her romantic love story was marvellous, too." The goddess continues on brightly, either not noticing his stunned stupor, or simply not caring. "Two boys, both vying for her attention, both ready to do almost anything for her. She made the right choice for her, though." She adds, almost wistfully. "James always was much more of her match. I helped grant her that last wish, too, before she died. It was such a tragedy. A bittersweet ending. A fantastic story, though; their young dislike, their eventual love, the war and the dreadful betrayal of one they had trusted, and then, finally, their willing sacrifices as they each died for the family that they fought so hard for." She sighs, and grasps one of the rose petals on the cloud and strokes it, mournfully, while Harry feels heartbreak in the reminisce. Aphrodite pauses, before smiling up at Thanatos, and then turning the look upon him.

"Knowing it's you, I'll agree." She informs him, the words falling gracefully and rapidly from her lips. "I wanted another godly child, anyway." She adds, and Harry blinks, feeling abruptly lost and fairly horrified.

Thanatos simply claps his hands together, and then spreads them wide. "And I've always wanted one." He tells Aphrodite.

"It's a win-win situation." She agrees, turning to blow Harry a kiss. He feels it hit him like a real thing, on his cheek, and he flushes once more. He barely even thinks on their words because of it. Barely. "Aw." She smiles, green to blue eyes watching him. "You're so sweet."

"He is, isn't he?" Thanatos says, fondly. "Now, we need you to hop back into the White Space for a little while, Harry. Too much of Olympus' might hurt you until we've organised things."

Harry blinks at the vast light beaming down at him again, and glances around, thoroughly disappointed at having to leave so soon - and without getting any answers - but nods. Mainly due, he knows, to Aphrodite nodding encouragingly at him.

"Only for a little while." She tells him.

"Alright." He says.

It will give me time to ponder what they've said, anyway, he thinks ruefully, trying to remember and digest the conversation – and it will be tremendously easier to do so without being distracted by the Goddess of Love.

"Bye." He tells them both in a half whisper, and is quickly returned without much other thought to the white space.

.

It turns out, in all honesty, that godly ideas on what a "little while" is, clashes strongly with Harry's understanding of it. The next time he is scooped out, nine months have apparently passed, as there is a baby in Aphrodite's arms.

He is small, Harry immediately notes, as those phantom pounding sounds beat in his chest, and is no older or bigger than what Teddy's new born-self had been in the few pictures Harry had seen of him. He is also clearly stunningly beautiful, with his tanned to dark features, his dark fluffy hair, and his amazing black wings that produce from the small shoulders and cascade and cocoon around his small body.

"You made a baby?" He whispers, finding himself awed and stunned in equal measure – especially as he has had plenty of time to think (although it didn't feel like nine months of passage, even if it did feel like a long while) in the white place, and has managed to put two and two together.

After all, Thanatos had a plan for him to be able to protect this worryingly powerful Gem, which, to him, firstly means that he would need a body of some kind to do so, else he wouldn't be able to hold it, never mind protect it – a sound conclusion, he had thought, re-pacing the passage way of Gryfindor tower, on the first through fourth day in – and then Aphrodite, the goddess – seriously,how does he really get himself into these things? – says that she had wanted another godly child – godly! His brain echoes – anyway, and Thanatos happily agreed.

Therefore, logically, he thinks, even if Hermione was more of the logic one out of their trio, he realised - and realises still - that creating a child between them, then placing his soul within it, is the soundest idea for the conversations he has had, and overheard. He still tried to assure himself hourly that he was simply crazy and paraniod, though.

Now, however, his hopefully insane reasonings is supported by this baby – this godly baby, apparently.

He grimaces, though tries to keep it mainly internal, and wonders - well, he wonders many different things, all rushed and mixed together, in a joint ball of panic, but mainly he toys with the sudden thought of whether they are expecting him to grow up from a babe again, in this plan of theirs. He also questions, as he has been for the last however long it has been, if he will be able to talk to his family and friends soon – if he will be able to see them and spend at least a little while with them, before this craziness begins - or before he runs away.

"We did." Aphrodite agrees excitedly, responding to his whisper. "We had to ask Athena how to create a baby from thought alone, though. It's rather exhausting, in truth, but very worth it. You're exactly fifty percent me, and fifty percent Thanatos –"

…I was undeniably correct, then, he mentally states slowly, dazedly and a little horrified, and decides irrevocably that this, right here, this idea of... immortality, is possibly a thoasand times scarier than walking up to Voldemort and accepting the killing curse.

"– You'll have my kaleidoscope eyes," she continues, again seemingly unaware of his emotional turmoil, "though we've made sure they'll likely settle more to the brilliant emerald green of your old eyes when anyone focuses on them. To remind you of your first life; I knew you'd love that."

That is kind, he admits, staring at her, and gulping a little.

"You'll have my wings, too." Thanatos points out, sounding so fond of the idea that Harry pauses and stares nonplussed for a second.

He is truly planned to be their child,he mentally grasps; this is the actual plan. It isn't just some half-thought out plausible possibility he had thought up within the Soul bag, white space, whatever, in content boredom. And more strangely to him, as he watches them practically gush, is that they seem to actually want him to be their child. That, he thinks, is utter madness. He imagines what Uncle Vernon would say about it, but rightly believes that the man wouldn't be able to get anything out due to his too purple, raging face. "You do like to fly, don't you?" Thanatos says, as if double checking, while gently stroking at the small feathers surrounding the infant.

He seems to be missing Harry's panic, too. Or, Harry tells himself, is simply ignoring it. Or maybe this is them being polite and pretending not to notice his embarrassing fish impressions?

Aphrodite smiles at him, and his brain mushes a bit more; his panic momentarily halts "He loves it, don't you, little dove?"

"I…I do." Harry gets out. He does love to fly. And now he is going to have wings. And ever changing eyes.

He lets out a breath, and decides that this is all happening very fast – only, he knows, it isn't really. It feels like he has been in that white space for at least a month or three, and has spent it coming to semi-terms with the idea; it really was the only conclusion that made any sense to him, with the sentences he'd witnessed and the facts that he could guess at. It is different though, it seems, thinking of it in a bag of divine calming draught, and facing eternal life full on without it.

He finds himself rubbing at his neck, nervous and self-questioning his choice, even with Aphrodite's now brown eyes on him, as he thinks about all the possible consequences of godly-hood. He manages to listen, though – which he does, surprisingly well – as they both happily explain to him his soon-to-be physical make-up.

He nods in all the right places as they speak, and hm's and ah's, and all in all, applauds himself for not stopping them, with, "I don't want to be a god." and running away. Death, in all honesty, seems to help on that front, as he keeps getting the feeling that he needs to agree to this part if he still wants to help (not that he has to help, he knows, is told repeatedly) – as does their honestly genuine happiness at the prospect of him becoming their blood.

It is still overwhelming. And strange. And nerve-wracking.

A god.

More so, even, as he listens as they describe his possible powers, the ones that he'll possibly inherit from them – "A bond with Death, which you already have. You might start knowing when someone is close to Death, too," Thanatos states. "and how to take them on to the underworld." or "The feelings of those in love, images of their relationships, how to help them," Aphrodite smiles. "or the ability to match-make, speaking French, having Charm speech – with Love there are many possibilities." – along with the fact that he will, at some point, find his own domain.

"It might be linked with Death or Love, or both, but it mainly results from who you are, as well. Whatever your domain will become though, you will become as much its possession as you are its embodiment. If something happens to your domain, you will feel it, too." Thanatos tell him, seriously.

"Okay." Harry replies just as seriously, if only to prove his listening skills, before they move on to something else that he'll need to know. He realises they are telling him now, rather than after he goes through with it, as a service to him. He relaxes a little, at that knowledge.

"Could I still visit my friends and family, then?" Harry interjects when they reach the discussion of the divine laws. He is hoping to see his parents, and Sirius, and Fred, and… well, everyone, soon, after all.

"Of course," Thanatos agrees, blinking, "although there are certain rules when it comes to interfering with mortal affairs, as they were laid down by the lightening wielder."

Aphrodite nods quickly in complete agreement. "You can only interfere to a point," She intones, sipping her drink of golden liquid, gifted to her by a nymph, as she organises her art designs. "as he doesn't like us interfering too much."

"Wait." He says, coming up absolutely short, then. Mortal affairs? Those on…? He thinks quickly and urgently,"So… I could go and interfere a little on…? I could go and talk to someone alive? I could… I could go on earth?"

Why - why didn't I wonder about this sooner? He thinks furiously. Because if that is the case – if that is the case, then he could talk to his alive friends, too? As well as the dead?

He rubs at his forehead, his brain going haywire over the single possibility, only Aphrodite distracts him utterly by laughing. It is a brilliant sound – perfect, and full of tinkling charms, and rushing wind.

He looks at her, and sees blond hair blur to red.

"You can even go as far as sleeping with them." She states amusedly to him, rocking the babe in her arms, before smiling dazzlingly at his rapidly flushing cheeks. "Demi-God's are created somehow, little dove. Well, most of are conceived by sex. Not all, though. So, don't think you have to sleep with a person to create a child." She lifts future-him up as reference, then lowers him again, to coo. Thanatos's lips twitch. And Harry? Harry is simply astonished.

He could seriously speak to them all, he comprehends. He was chosen by Death and chose Death in return, and he is still going to be able - if he chooses it - to return to the living world for a while, or for however long he wants, to make sure they are all okay – or as okay as can be, with all things considered.

He knows he'll be lying completely if he says that the thought alone doesn't make him feel lighter – and somewhat fortifies the idea for him – about becoming an immortal being.

Although, he still wants to know how he is supposed to be hiding it, even if the new him seems like he'll have more outward power to help with the protection. He debates – silently, of course – if he should start thinking about wearing that old snitch on a bracelet or something.

Still. Harry bites his lip.

A god...

"What - what do I have to do?" he asks. "To become…" He nods towards the baby. "And, er, do I really have to, you know, grow up again? It was kind of bad enough the first time…" He pauses for a moment and then decides to just ask specifically to Thanatos. "And how do I get it?" It is still in the forest, after all – at least, he thinks it is… Hopes it is – especially, if it really is, or can be, as dangerous as Death suggests... As dangerous as he feels it could be in the right situation.

"Oh. Didn't we go over that part?" His, well, his apparently new mother states cheerfully – a goddess is going to be his mother. "Simply touch the body, and Death, Thanatos and I will help - and that terrible childhood you were forced to endure," She adds more seriously, sorrow swimming in her violet eyes, and when Harry looks in to them, caught and trapped, he sees what a loving childhood could be reflected there. "is more than enough reason to have another one, isn't it?"

There is a beat of silence, and Harry breathes out a breath. He re-thinks the possible pro's and con's for that – for all of it, truly – and she looks at him so hopefully ecstatic, that he can't help but cave, regardless of his dislike at being a child once more.

"That's not fair." He still manages to point out weakly, though. Grimly stating to himself, that his urge to please her better ease up with the time in her presence, or her DNA. He suddenly understands with much clearer clarity Ron's problem with Veela, and feels a lot more sympathetic.

Thanatos just looks down at him with amusement, neither helping him nor persuading him, and says, in answer to his third question, "You already do – or, should I say, you will do."

There is another beat of silence, this time longer, and for the echo of it, confusion builds.

What? He thinks, and the god smiles slightly, before he looks to the babe with soft eyes, and Harry gathers it's an explanation.

He watches, curious, as the elder steps towards it and strokes its right ankle – is it there? – before pulling out a dagger, and carefully parting a small layer of the skin beneath the bone. Harry sees, as it is lifted, that a stone is clearly within – and he feels it is the one that he had parted with not that long ago.

Harry puts a hand through his hair, and nods slowly in understanding. It will be within him – hidden in plain sight. Alright.

"Do not speak of it after this day." Thanatos says, as he pushes the skin back together, just before drops of golden blood leaks out, and heals it easily. "The only way to get it out is to know it is there and to specifically cut it from you. If it has been taken against your will and you have not been scattered, you will be able to get it back, as you'll feel it. Magical interference that is stronger than your own may interfere with that, in which case you'll have to hunt and fight for it. Or give up."

He meets Harry's eyes again, and Harry nods, considering.

"Are we ready then?" Aphrodite asks, hugging the body to her chest.

Harry swallows and realises that this is the moment of truth. He remains silent and thinks, before abruptly blowing out a breath and resolves to do what he always does; jump recklessly in.

His hand rises and he touches a bare patch of skin before he can change his mind. It burns slightly, strangely, under his grasp, and he gasps as a golden white light surrounds them both, body and spirit. It seems just as bright and fierce to Harry as Olympus is, but far more all-encompassing. He hears, next, Thanatos chant something under his breath, and feels the arms, which suddenly surround him, tighten slightly, before Aphrodite, too, begins to sing something softly of her own. In the background there is almost another echo - a greater one - that leads them its support, agreement and help.

He feels – and isn't that a scary and strange thing, he thinks uncertainly – his spirit seem to alter some how. He feels it as he begins to fill the whole space at their joint intonation. He feels everything as the body - his body - seems to align with him, in a way that it wouldn't have without them.

He feels his actually-there-and-not-just-imagined-anymore eyelids flutter open carefully and so very heavily, for a slight suspended instant in time, and sees two quiet smiling deities staring down at him, mouths moving, before they quickly fall shut again.

It's working, he thinks thoroughly dazed.

He passes out before anything else is said or done.

.

.

AN: So, thoughts? Is anyone seeming to ooc? Is it rushed?