AN: Alright, a head's up for the OC listed for the pairing is that it will be a female demon that will travel with Death and Harry during the story. Added to that I changed a few things about the final battle for the purpose of this story, some will be bluntly stated, and others may have to be inferred in I don't make it clear.

Master of the Horseman

Chapter 1

-Harry-

Easing into a chair, Harry stared down at the collection of items laid out on the table before him. Voldemort was not even a day dead and Harry was already fed up with the wizarding world. The power structure of the government had been shattered, the shards easily picked up by those who survived and now it seemed the government was split into two factions vying for control. One side consisted of the remaining members of the Order led by Kingsley Shacklebolt, the other side being led by Umbridge and was those who believed the blood purist dogma despite never taking Voldemort's brand.

"Master needs his sleep." The concerned voice of Kreacher spoke from his left, the ancient house elf just as bloody and battered as Harry was.

"I'll head to bed eventually Kreacher," he sighed, managing a thankful smile to the small creature "I…just need a bit."

"If Master is sure." Kreacher gave him a suspicious look before slinking off to his closet bedroom, the elf too exhausted to offer much protest. The second the house elf was out of sight Harry's shoulders slumped, the exhaustion and misery of the past year finally catching up to him. On the table in front of him were seven distinct items. He had the sword of Gryffindor, blood stained and gleaming as it had returned to him during the final battle.

Bellow the sword lay the three Deathly Hallows. The cloak had been kept tucked away Hermione's expanded bag during the battle and he only reclaimed the item once the chaos had drawn to a close. The stone had been tucked into his mokeskin pouch once he had summoned the shades of his loved ones. With the madness of battle and the threat of imminent death lifted from his shoulders though he realized they weren't likely the real shades, or if they were they were being altered. His family, they would never have encouraged him to die. Sirius and Remus he knew for a fact would have fought him tooth and nail to go back and try to live. Finally lay the elder wand, sitting there in its seeming innocence.

Finally, and most painful of all, lay three wands. His Holly wand along with the wands of Ron and Hermione. The Holly wand he had carried for so long felt almost dead in his hands now, the familiar spark having faded from it along with the shard of Voldemort's soul in his scar, that having been what drew the wand to him in the first place. Hermione and Ron, their wands lay in his grasp as their users lay with the fallen. Ron had fallen first, having charged a horde of Death Eaters to protect a group of younger students who had snuck back to try and fight. Ron's sacrifice had saved their lives at the cost of his own, over a dozen Death Eaters having fallen to take down Harry's first friend.

Hermione had died fighting Bellatrix, the mad witch second in power only to Voldemort himself amongst the Death eaters, having already bested Ginny and Luna, the two girls seriously injured during the duel. Hermione, seeing her friends' injuries after already losing Ron, had gone berserk. Spell after spell had flown from her wand with frightening accuracy as Bellatrix was backed into a corner behind her rapidly cracking shield. Getting too close was Hermione's mistake as Bellatrix fired a dark cutting curse, separating Hermione in half at the waste even as Hermione's last spell, a piercer, went through the mad witch's brain.

Deciding Kreacher was right, Harry grabbed the collection of items and rose to head to bed. He hadn't even made it to the door when he felt the raw pulsing magic fill the kitchen of Grimmuald Place. Leaping to the side, reluctantly drawing the elder wand, he pointed it to a forming purple rift, a deathly pale figure stepping out from it. The figure was tall and thin, skin as pale as a corpse with a mask of bone covering his face, two burning orange eyes staring out from the mask. "Who dares to summon me?" the figure asked, thankfully sounding more irritated than truly angry.

"Who the fuck dares to break into my home?" he snapped back, loss of blood and loss of his friends leaving him without much patience to deal with the latest piece of madness fate had decided to thrust upon him.

"I am Death." The figure's hands twitched towards a pair of scythes at his waist, eyes flitting about to take in his surroundings. About to make a sarcastic response to that, Harry stilled, glancing down at the Hallows which he could feel pulsing with a renewed energy at the figure's presence.

"I believe you're here because of these." Holding up the three Hallows, realizing that this was the first time he held all three in his hands at the same time, he waited for the figure to recognize the three items he had supposedly created.

"And those are?" the figure's orange eyes studied the three Hallows but there was no recognition within them.

"The Deathly Hallows, the items said to make one Master of Death if brought together." He explained, ready to make a shield spell and fight for his life should the figure before him turn angry.

"What?!" the figure hissed, a purple aura flaring to life around the supposed Death, scythes in hand as he took a threatening step towards Harry.

"Back off!" he snapped back, raising the elder wand only to pause when he saw Death freeze and step back, eyes wide at the being forced to do so on command. "They…they really do control you." Harry frowned, staring at the three items in disgust, hating the idea of enslaving another being.

"Those 'Hallows'," Death hissed out, "they reek of the Council and their magic."

"How do I destroy them?" he asked Death who looked up surprised "I'm not a fan of control. Could I just give them to you?" as he asked he threw the resurrection stone to the figure who caught it.

"It's still tied to you," Death frowned before studying Harry closer "and their power has bled into you somewhat."

"What are you talking about?" he demanded, in no mood to talk in circles.

Picking that up Death threw the stone back, "They haven't fully bled in yet but with their magic tied to you you'll stop aging within a few years. Anyway these are old, made several centuries if not millennia ago by the beings I serve. It would seem they sought a way to collar me."

"You have my word I'll help you find a way to break them." The tired wizard swore, his magic pulsing to reaffirm his oath. He had lost almost everything, but he knew his friends would want him to help 'Death', Hermione alone would likely have raised holy Hell at the idea of enslaving another through some ancient artifact.

"…Who are you?" Death began to circle him, studying him with keen intent "I've never before felt this sort of power when I met the inhabitants of the third Kingdom."

"Harry Potter," he replied dryly, offering his hand to Death "the boy-who-lived, the man-who-won, and a wizard who is tired of losing my family."

"Family," Death let out a dry humorless chuckle, "that is something I can understand. Sit 'Harry Potter', it would seem we have much to discuss."

AN: This chapter was a bit slow, but it was necessary to establish the reason Harry commands Death, let Death and Harry meet, and explain how this world differs slightly. Next chapter is where things pick up.