Disclaimer: I own no rights to Harry Potter or Highschool DxD.

"Speaking"

"Parsel"

'Thoughts'

10th Life

Harry sighed as a loud rap resounded precisely against his door thrice, rousing him abruptly from his undisturbed rest. Sitting up in his bed, he pinched his nose in slight frustration while taking an absent glance at the digital clock sitting on his nightstand, cursing colorfully in response to the mocking red "three A.M." glowing in the inky darkness. Lazily stretching, he slung himself out of his bed, preparing for what he knew would be behind his front door.

Harry's home was a simple one, small and cozy, with just enough space for one person to live in with the occasional guest every now and then. Moving pictures, remnants of his magical background, adorned the walls. Though, most of the portraits were snoring away peacefully in the late witching hours of the night, as they should be. They were pictures of his lost comrades, family and friends. Some had died by the hands of his enemies. Some had died by the hands of his friends. But most had died from the annuls of time slowly withering them away.

Wistfully, Harry wished he could call some of the slumbering images his own flesh and blood, but after Ginny and he had fallen out, he had never found another women to love. She had moved on during the war, as did he. The war had changed both of them irrevocably. There was just too much blood there, too many memories that shadowed their relationship, and too much distance between them.

Hermione and Ron had divorced three years after their marriage, shortly after the birth of their first child. Years of jealousy and feelings of inferiority had finally come out in Ron after one particularly nasty day at work, and his target this time, a repeat of their first year at Hogwarts, had been his very successful wife. Hermione had never regained vision in her left eye after that day. Nor had she ever regained her heart, and the brilliant witch passed on at the tragic age of only thirty four.

Harry had left Britain very shortly after that, cutting off all ties with Ron swiftly. The loss of his best friend cut deeper than any murder or torture he had witnessed from Voldemort, and he could no longer bear to stay in a land so soaked with memories of hatred, death and betrayal.

So, like any self-respecting wizard with too much time and too much money would do, Harry traveled the world, visiting every corner of the globe, both magical and mundane. He learned their secrets and plundered their mysteries with a knowledge lust that would have Hermione beaming in pride. For a boy who had lived in a cupboard under the stairs for a third of his life at the time, the freedom was exhilarating and addictive. It gave him a sense of life for the second time in his brief three decades of living.

But he didn't stop there, Harry dived into magic, uncovering lost arts and untold artifacts of great power, fighting wild beasts that stalked the night and dreams of the staunchest warriors, and of course, saved a few hundred damsels in distress over his many adventures. He unlocked new abilities that had been hidden from him as a child, and like any hero, was broken and remade again and again and again.

It had only been when he returned to Britain nearly 50 years later did he realize how long he had been gone, and the subsequent response to his return cemented his decision to go into exile. Harry had returned, unknowing of the actual passage of time, his face the same as it had been since he had turned 24, his body even more so, having been trained and honed over many battles and adventures. In essence, the 83 year old wizard hadn't aged a day in 50 years.

Needless to say, Magical Britain had not taken kindly to an immortal with infinite youth.

The public backlash was immense and swift, just as he remembered it when he was a young teenager trying to prove to the Wizarding World he wasn't a lying cheat. The sheep rose in droves to condemn him of the darkest arts, demanding their once-savior be put in Azkaban with his magic stripped or be thrown through the veil immediately.

"Become a hero and live long enough to see yourself become the villain, indeed."

They hadn't counted on a few things, however. The Boy-Who-Lived was no longer the same, easily controlled child they had envisioned him to be. Their first show of force against the man had been etched into Wizarding History as simply "The Fallout", a double ententre for the relationship that ended that day and for the magical blast that annihilated the entire Diagon Alley street. To this day, the area was avoided like the plague, rumored to be cursed forever for all betrayers. Only the Bank had managed to survive, if only barely, having lost most of its gilded lettering that day.

That day also saw the start of the recession of the entire British Wizarding World. Harry James Potter had marched into Gringotts and demanded all of his holdings be turned over into his direct possession, including the vaults that he had won from the war via right of conquest. 85% of the gold in Magical Britain was taken away that day.

For Harry, however, that day was important for a different reason. That was the day he had finally learned the truth of his existence, the accursed blessing he had been gifted with. His time was frozen until the end of all things, a result of three accursed objects he had blindly gathered in his youth, the Deathly Hallows, the trinity of death's possessions.

Looking back now, Harry snorted at the idea that simply rejecting the wand, snapping it or melting it in lava would break the legendary artifact. Simply put, nothing, short of Death's choice, could erase the wand's existence. No matter what Harry tried, the wand would return every morning, lying innocently on his nightstand, waiting. The ring and cloak were the same. Together, all three made him, Harry James Potter, the Master of Death, a true, deathless entity that persisted outside the realm of human reason and human understanding. Yet, he possessed an intimately deep understanding of human nature. The irony was not lost on him.

Regardless, that was the past. He had not initiated contact with Magical Britain for nearly a hundred years already. But he knew what would be behind that door. Pleasantly, he opened the door, taking note of the heavy rain and crashing thunder idly, having not noticed it in his reverie. It was fitting, he supposed.

"Death."

"Master."

The two entities, two different sides of the same coin, stared at each other, neither giving an inch lest they lose a mile. But then, Death smiled. They always did follow that same silly charade, a tradition of sorts, a reminder of their first official meeting so long ago.

"I suppose you are not going to invite me in then?" Death mused with a knowing smirk.

"As if that would stop you," Harry replied tiredly but good-naturedly, gesturing for Death to come in, "Don't track in anything would you. I just cleaned the place two days ago." Death didn't answer and instead glided through the door with practiced ease, not a single drop of rain on the figure.

"Inviting a young girl into your home in the middle of the night? Your neighbors will surely spread rumors," Death replied smugly, but Harry had known her long enough to understand her jokes.

"Yeah yeah. They can say whatever they want. I'm a lust-filled beast who likes to prey on little girls in the middle of the night. Yadda yadda." He replied with a chuckle of his own, "The only complaint I would make is for you to stop coming around so damn late. I do like to sleep you know, even if I don't need it."

"Oh ho ho. So you wish for the world to see your true, lecherous desires? Should I fear for my sweet virtue then?"

Harry rolled his eyes. Honestly, he couldn't believe that this girl, who was about three-fourths of his height, meaning she was very, very short, could be the most feared primordial force in the multiverse. He still remembered when he met her by chance, masquerading around in a magical girl outfit in the middle of Akihabara, frills and all with her naturally white hair and vibrant steel-grey eyes completing the picture.

Death's human form was not ridiculously curvy but not ridiculously flat either. She possessed a balanced body type, other than her height of course, which Harry never mentioned to her, lest he be on the receiving end of her sickle.

He had also learned that day that leaving Death bored made for some very strange times. Her attitude was also not quite what Harry had expected, but in her words "being gloomy and dark all the time would be tiresome."

"Oh have you finally decided that you do in fact want me that badly? I never knew you adored me so much, Death," Harry replied with a roughish smile, internally cheering as he noticed the small flit of red on his companion's cheeks.

"Shut up," Death replied childishly, pouting as she was outdone by her Master. It wasn't fair! She was eons and eons old. She was supposed to be the wiser and wittier of the two. He was the one who was supposed to lose his composure!

"Pleasantries aside," Harry said, "To what I owe this very late visit Death? Other than to enact out my debauched desires on my poor, unsuspecting, incomparably pure companion."

"They are on the move again." A moment of pregnant silence chilled the air as Harry took in that statement. He sighed in resignation.

"Already? After such a short time? I had hoped to stay in this little town for at least another ten years. What grand plan have they schemed this time? I warned them of their folly almost twenty years ago," Harry said as he took a seat, rubbing his temples in agitation. Why couldn't anyone just let him live in peace. "But I find it curious too. Why are you warning me? You never have before, as there was no need. Backwater wizards with delusions of grandeur are no match for me." Death was quiet, her face pensive. For a moment, she debated with herself.

"Originally, I came only to warn you of the nature of their latest weapon."

"I'm sure it's nothing too impressive."

"Magic gathered from the Veil."

Harry blinked, his mind whirling at the implications. The Veil of Death was aptly named, a tear in the dimensional fabric of Earth to the Land of the Dead. However, to harness such powers was not in the realm of mortal control.

"With that magic. They can harm you," Death continued, "You won't die outright, but if they do enough damage to you, eternal sealing is a real possibility. A fate worse than death, as cliché as that sounds, especially coming from myself." Harry grimaced. Why would they never just leave him be?

"You said 'Originally'. What else did you wish to tell me Death," Harry said softly, his mind already planning for the inevitable battle with the remaining of Wizarding Britain. Death bit her lip in uncharacteristic hesitation. Death does not hesitate. It comes fast, and it comes strong. But she did not know how to continue, but would endeavor, just as she had for eons.

"You are dying Harry," Death muttered, and before Harry could respond, she continued, "Not in body, but in spirit. Every day, every month, every year. Your solitude eats away at your soul. Your inner fears corrode your heart. Your darkest intentions poison your mind. I fear for you, Master."

"And what would you have me do?" Harry snapped back, "I did not ask for this curse. I did not want this burden, but the world and fate itself deems that I am the one to carry it. So I will, if only because I must."

"A burden such as yours should not be taken alone."

"And who is to help me? You are Death, a being beyond even me. You cannot shoulder the burden that my mortal heart bears. You simply can't fathom it," Harry replied bluntly, ignoring the slight flinch of pain that coursed through his partner, "I am alone. And I will always be alone. There is none other who could understand my pain, my sorrows, my regrets and my desires. I am the only of my kind."

"You are…at least in this universe," Death replied softly, but it was loud enough for Harry to hear. She could feel her master's eyes bore into her, and despite her status, she found herself shying away from the intense gaze.

"Explain."

"The Veil. It is not just a portal to my realm. It is a portal in general to the many universes that span realities. At the moment, it is simply keyed to my realm," Death said slowly, watching the light of understanding shine in her master's eyes. "But…"

"Its power is being drained," Harry replied succinctly, putting two and two together, "How long?"

"Three days."

"Of course it is….What would you have me do?"

"Nothing," Death replied instantly, "The choice is yours, as it should have always been. You may choose to stay here with a known fate and eventual peace. Or you may gamble once again with the dice and see what Fate desires."

"Hmph. Not much of a choice then huh? Either turn into an unfeeling stone of a man or risk it all again," Harry mused, a small amount of mirth in his heavy voice. Death didn't truly know which one Harry would pick. Her master had been through a lot in his relatively short lifespan. Pain, betrayal and hatred had been his constant companions for the first century of his life. She did not know if her Master would risk that experience again.

"You know…" Harry said, a small grin on his face, "I think I'm quite ready for another adventure."

Death stared for a moment and then promptly smacked her master for being an idiot.

"Really? The mood was so good and serious just a moment ago, and then you go and ruin it by quoting a damn movie?" she said with a glare, earning a chuckle from her master. Harry was unrepentant, but a warm smile did stretch across his face.

"Thanks Death. Not sure what I would do without you."

"You'd turn into some crazy dark lord who would try to conquer the world through rings just for your own amusement." Harry bellowed out in laughter at that. Abruptly, he brought Death into his arms and hugged her tight, ignoring her suddenly stiff posture.

"I know I don't say it very often. But you're really all I got Death. Thank you."

"I.I.. !" Death, an ultimate force of the universe, stuttered, "Don't just go hugging people out of the blue!"

"Oh ho ho. Is Death a little shy?" Harry teased with a wide grin, pulling back to find Death's face painted red.

"S..shut up!" she shouted, "Such cheekiness needs to be punished! Close your eyes. I'm not letting you off easy this time!" Harry rolled his eyes, but obliged Death. Sometimes, it was best to cater to her more childish whims. So he did as she requested and waited for the inevitable smacking.

And boy did it come, but just not how he figured it. Instead, he felt something wet and warm press itself up against his lips rather aggressively. His mouth opened up in pure surprise, allowing the sudden intrusion of Death's tongue, freezing him in place.

The kiss lasted for another two minutes, and Harry watched in ill-disguised shock as Death pulled away, a noticeable sheen of saliva hanging in the air. He couldn't speak. He couldn't breathe. He could only watch, enraptured, as a victorious smirk appeared on her face.

"Retribution for your teasing," Death replied with a fanged grin, "See you soon, Master." Without another word, she disappeared, leaving her stupefied master staring at where she once at been.

"Well, Damn."

A∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞Ω

Harry's return to Britain, and the subsequent battle, if it could be called such a thing, wasn't a grandiose conflict where one side yelled at the other to surrender to their betters. It wasn't a theatric standoff between the sides of darkness and light, complete with monologue and mandatory flashy lights. It was a slaughter, plain and simple.

While the British wizards had managed to siphon off bits and pieces of the veil's magic, they had no semblance of mastery over it. It seemed their hopes had hinged on gathering its sheer amount of magical power to use against him as a bomb of sorts.

Of course, they hadn't known that it wouldn't have been enough, close but not quite. However, after three days the veil would have been drained dry. It seemed that Death had stacked the deck in his favor once again.

"Hmm. I have to take her on a vacation or something sometime," Harry mused as he stared at the ethereal, ever-changing veil of ghostly whispers, a.k.a., the Veil of Death, amidst a veritable sea of broken bodies. It was a little unnerving to stand in front of where his godfather had died, but the Master of Death had made his peace with that many decades ago.

"If you're suggesting vacations, I'd suggest the beach," a light voice replied as a pair of slender arms wrapped around his neck and a pair of legs wrapped around his stomach.

"Hmm, I don't suppose this portal can take me right to one then?" Harry asked as he checked his pouch for his belongings, nodding in confirmation.

"Doubtful."

"So where will this take me then? As much as I enjoy your company, I don't think I'd enjoy my time in the Land of the Dead," Harry commented.

"I do not know. All I know is that it will not be my realm as I can control the entrances," she said, "I do suspect that wherever you land will have some sort of tie with my own realm, but where exactly? I cannot say."

Harry paused, staring at the runic archway inquisitively, making his decision.

"Well as they used to say! Gryffindors charge forward," Harry mused as he took his steps into the void, disappearing from his old universe forever as the portal collapsed behind him.

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Let it not be said that Harry James Potter was a fan of magical transportation. In fact, it's rather safe to say he absolutely hated any form of magical transport that didn't involve trains.

This was definitely in his top five worst ways to travel.

If the massive loss of orientation wasn't enough, the strobe lights and flickering, vivid colors only added to his oncoming epileptic fit. His body felt as if it were stretching in every possible direction, up, down, right, left, inside and out. His vision was more apt to be described as a kaleidoscope if anything else!

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the room stopped spinning, but the strange kaleidoscope of colors didn't return to normal. Harry shook his head, finding that his sense of body had been returned to him, but his sense of place was hopelessly confused.

He looked down to finding nothing beneath his feet, and likewise, there was nothing else around him but swirling, purling galaxies of infinite hues. If anything, Harry felt like a floating ingredient in a strange mish-mashed, rainbow soup. Magically, Harry couldn't sense anything either, because the entire place just felt like one huge ball of swirling magic, very pure and dangerous magic.

"Huh…Something tells me that I wasn't supposed to end up here," Harry mused as he tested his ability to move around. It was simple enough. The entire place was made of magic after all. All Harry had to do was manipulate the magic a bit for him to move around, and it came surprisingly easy to him once he got the hang of it.

In fact, it was rather fun once he figured it out, almost like flying, minus the broom and bludgers. Harry was enjoying himself so much that he didn't even notice the sudden appearance of a young girl who watched him fly around without a care in the world for a few minutes.

"Who, are you?" a monotonous voice asked, but the soft-spoken question seemed to boom, reverberating off of unseen walls and focusing directly onto Harry, who lost his concentration and flailed a bit, sending him into an ungraceful spin. The Master of Death looked around for the source of the voice and stopped abruptly when he found it belonged to a small girl who looked to be no older than fourteen at best. Her attire was unusual as well, gothic lolita fashion if he remembered correctly from Death's many lectures. Her eyes were sharp, however, and an aura of power draped around her much like Death, concise and potent.

"Err, I'm Harry," he responded simply, tilting his head as he tried to wrap his mind around what he detected from the girl. He mentally superimposed an image of Death over her, finding their similarities rather striking. Their statures were pretty much the same as were their eyes. The only difference he could find really was the pointed ears and black hair. Also admittedly, Death's humanized form was curvier, but not by much. He didn't want to linger on that thought for too long, lest Death come around again to berate him. Again…

The strange girl stared at him unblinkingly her eyes thinning slightly as if she had been presented with a particularly intriguing puzzle.

"Err...So who are you? And where am I?" Harry ventured, hoping that this unknown, powerful being didn't turn out to be hostile. The girl tilted her head as she regarded him for a bit longer before answering.

"I, am Ophis," she stated, "You, are in the Dimensional Gap, my home."

"Right…"

Another round of staring…

"What, are you?" Ophis finally asked as she glided closer, her face resting mere inches away from Harry's, "You, smell of dragon, snake, fire, magic, death and infinity…It, is confusing."

"And what are you?" a new, though recognizable, voice countered, and Harry spun to find the none-too-happy face of Death as she observed the scene. He had almost forgotten that Death had come through with him. She had likely landed in a different area. "I cannot grasp your existence, and the concept of death does not seem to apply to you. The only possibility is that you are above mortal and immortal means, a concept given form." Ophis looked back and forth between Harry and Death, her eyes confused.

"You, share the same energy as Harry. I, can sense a link, but you," Ophis said as she pointed at Death, "smell only of death and infinity." The gothic lolita paused as a light of understanding passed through her eyes. "That is who you are, Death, the concept given form."

"And you contain chaos, infinity and nothing," Death retorted, pulling Harry away from the other girl rather possessively, "And I would appreciate it if you would stay away from MY master." Ophis grinned a fanged smile as she chuckled a bit.

"I, am Ophis, the Ouroborus Dragon, the Infinite Dragon God," she mused as she watched the pair, "Harry, the Master of Death. And Death itself. How, interesting."

"Yes well, if that is all. We'd like to be on our way," Death said as she gestured to the place around them, feeling a bit put-off here. She could sense another powerful being not too far from where they were, and like Ophis, the concept of Death just couldn't seem to hold them. It quite peeved Death, reminding her too much of her brothers and sisters that liked to annoy her without end because they didn't really have to fear for ultimate retribution.

"Before, you go," Ophis began, raising her hand, and Harry dodged out of the way as something black shot out of her arms at his face. Without thinking, Harry gathered magical energy into his palms, enough to level a moderately sized town, and faced Ophis, only to find an amused grin on her face. "A, present."

Harry blinked and turned to find a good-sized, pure black snake floating in space, making its way up to his feet.

"I am yourss to command massster," the snake hissed out pleasantly, and Harry face-palmed slightly.

"Great. Just great. Another super-magical snake," he sighed, "Well, at least you aren't bloody 60 feet long and trying to kill me. What is your name?" If it was possible, Harry was pretty sure that the snake would have dropped its jaws in shock. Ophis also expressed a slight degree of surpsise before settling her features again, a conniving smile on her face as she watched her spawn slither up Harry's arm, taking residence around his shoulders.

"I am Lilith."

"Well nice to meet you I guess, Lilith," Harry said, deciding to roll with this strange new turn of events. With an acknowledging nod, the snake seemed to sink into his shoulders, disappearing from sight. It was just another day in the life of Harry James Potter. However, Death wasn't thrilled, not in the slightest, because she understood what Ophis, a conceptual being, had just done. The Ouroboros Dragon had laid a claim upon her master, just as she had done so long ago. And she didn't like it, not one bit. "Well, if that's all, mind if I get on my way?"

Ophis nodded and with a swipe of her hand, a tear in the dimension appeared. It didn't really look any different, but Harry could tell it was there.

"You go on ahead, Master," Death said pleasantly, too pleasantly, "I just want to have a little chat with our new friend here."

"Alright. I'm sure you'll catch up with me later," Harry shrugged as he moved toward the portal, hopping through without a second thought. Moments later, the portal closed, leaving the two female concepts to stare at each other, their gazes locked as a metaphorical spark arched between them.

"Now then, we have quite a bit to discuss don't we, Ophis?"

"Yes, we do."

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Once again, Harry cursed all forms of magical travel with all of his being, but whatever he had landed on this time wasn't as bad as a concrete floor at least. It was something rather soft and…fleshy?

"Nyaaa! Ouch," a feminine voice cried out as Harry looked down and realized exactly where he had ended up, not that he was complaining too much. But he was also a gentleman, and quickly extracted himself.

"Uhh sorry about that," Harry said as he helped the woman up, blinking as his eyes rested on two strange appendages on the woman's head: cat ears. "Huh…well fancy that." Idly he also noticed the slit pupils, two tails and deadly pair of claws which were currently pointed at him.

"If you're here to kill me, you had better do a better job than that nya!" the woman screamed as she leapt back, her claws alight with powerful green energy that even scared Harry a bit. Time and space energy were not so easily wielded and even more dangerous to go up against. Magic like that was volatile and unpredictable and undoubtedly powerful.

"Woah woah woah! I don't want to kill anyone! I don't even know you," Harry hastily explained, finally taking the time to observe his newest acquaintance. She was a stunningly beautiful woman, that much he could tell, flawless skin, flowing hair and a seductive body. The extra appendages added to her already unnatural look, making her exotic looking yet fierce. But, what he also noticed were the scratches on her clothes and the tell-tale signs of battle around her, along with the bloodstain near the bottom of her exposed kimono.

"We've finally caught up to you cat! Prepare to die!" a rough voice yelled from behind, and Harry spun to find a battalion of hostile, bat-winged men with various dangerous weapons, all of which were currently being pointed his way. "Oh? And what's this? An accomplice? Perfect! We've been raring for some more blood for these past few days you damn cat!"

"Bite me! Nya!" the cat-woman yelled back venomously, sending a blast of energy at the man who dodge out of the way, albeit barely.

"Now wait just a moment…" Harry began, trying to clear up some confusion as he gestured wildly at the man who was staring at them with all intents to maim.

"Shut it! You're going to die too bastard! That's what you get for aiding Kuroka the Nekomata!" the unnamed bat-winged man roared, "Attack! Kill them both!"

Harry's shoulders drooped in resignation.

"God dammit! I hate magical travel..."