Ten years had passed and he spent the time alone. The only times he had anyone to speak to, would be the souls that had met Lady Death's expectations of a good enough life to enter her realm. Her expectations, it would seem, had to be quite high as he only saw a few souls a week, if at all.

The longest he had gone without seeing a soul had been four months.

Harry didn't know the expectations, or if the souls had to find their way to him.

He didn't want to know.

When he had woken up, he had woken inside a cabin that lay nestled between two trees and in front of a river. He eventually found out he had been moved to somewhere in the Netherlands.

After he woke, he went to the little village a ways off and quickly decided he never would venture out again.

Anger, happiness, annoyance, fear, delight, hunger.

They all ran through him, amplifying his own emotions to the point he couldn't tell who's were who's.

So he hid in his cabin.

He spent the years whispering to the souls that found him. He learned of different lives, different lands, different secrets.

Sometimes Lady Death spoke to him, but none of the conversations gave Harry any answers.

Early on, he had decided to not look for his family. After all, he didn't even look like himself and then he would have to watch them all die eventually. No, he had let them go.

Ginny, Ron, Hermione… they all thought him dead. How would they take the news that he couldn't die. That he actually deserved the title: The-Boy-Who-Lived.

On a day like all the others, he heard the murmur of a soul.

Falling… falling… pain… Hulk.

Hulk… Harry couldn't figure out what the soul meant by that.

He walked outside and smiled at the little pinpoint of light floating above the water.

Lost… where am I going?

Harry sat on the steps, waiting patiently for the soul to find him. Even if he called out to it - him - the soul would not be able to hear him until it was ready to listen.

Mommy. Daddy.

Harry untied his loose ponytail, letting the red locks fall past his shoulders to the mid of his back. It no longer lay thick on top his head, but thin and easy to manipulate. The strands still grew quickly, and the reason it was now so long may in fact have to due with him forgetting to shorten it.

Where are you?

It floated closer and Harry yearned to pick it up in his hands and cradle it to his chest. It sounded young, too young, and very confused.

Again, Harry wondered briefly over the stipulations Lady Death had.

Bright. Warm. Safe.

Finally, the soul pinpointed him and rocketed towards him. Harry smiled and held out his hands, catching the light and bringing it up to his face. "Hellu, little one."

Hi. The boy's voice became clearer, more focused. Where's Mommy? Daddy?

"I don't know." He had sworn to never lie to these souls and he had yet to break his oath.

Where am I?

"Somewhere safe."

Safe. Warm. The boy's voice, first tentative and then gaining strength the more he spoke. Your eyes pretty.

Harry smiled, "Thank you. What color are yours?"

Brown!

"Like mine?"

… No. Darker. Yours light, light brown. Pretty. Mommy called mine… handsome. You pretty, me handsome.

The little boy sounded so sure of himself, Harry had to chuckle. "Of course. My mistake."

I miss Mommy…

He brought the light to his chest and wrapped his hands completely around it. It was the closest he could get to hugging a soul. "I know… I miss my Mum, too. But… you get to go to lovely place. A new place."

Fun? Warm? Mommy?

"I don't know if your mommy will be there, but I'm sure it'll be fun for you."

K. Are you going?

"No, I have to stay here."

Oh… ok. When I leave?

"You can go now if you like."

The boy's voice grew silent, but the little ball of energy pulsated with warmth and confusion.

Can I… stay?

Harry bent over so his forehead rested on his knees, encompassing his body around the soul. "No, little one. I have to let you go."

Please?

The soul soaked up the closeness of Harry, growing brighter as the moments passed. The journey to him took energy and when the souls finally reached him, they drew from him. Once they had all their energy back, the passage could be opened. The souls had to cross, otherwise the portal would close forever for that soul.

And the soul would disappear, lost forever.

"You want to see your mommy and daddy, right?"

Yes!

"If you stay with me, you will never see them again."

The soul grew quiet.

It burned brighter and Harry felt something connect between himself and the soul. He closed his eyes, and the next time he opened them, a door appeared before him.

They always appeared different for each soul. For the boy, simple wooden doors painted in a deep green opened for him. On the other side, Harry couldn't see.

"You must go now." Harry whispered, uncurling himself and holding his hands out.

Warm. So warm.

Harry wondered if death felt warm. Every soul spoke of how warm the doors felt.

The boy didn't speak again, simply floated through the doors and disappeared from view, the gates closing after the soul and fading away.

Harry pulled his hair back up and went to walk inside, but froze with his hand on the handle. He glanced around, eyes trying to find whoever watched him.

Confusion. Wonder. Fear. Awe.

"Who's there?" Harry called out.

A woman stepped out from behind one of his giant trees, her hands at her side. She wore loose cargo pants, a tight black tank top and a leather jacket over it. Her shoulder length red hair blew behind her with the gust of wind.

Calm. Caution. Wary. Secretive.

"Where is the other?"

The woman didn't react outwardly. "It's just me." She spoke fluent Dutch.

Fear, wonder, confusion, flighty.

Her emotions, and the emotions of the other, went haywire. Harry took a deep breath, thankful for all the time he spent talking to the souls and becoming accustomed to their emotions.

He focused on keeping calm. Not their emotions, just his. Calm. Calm… calm.

"I'm sure." Harry leaned against his door, his head cocked.

She took another step forward. "I'm sorry for bothering you, but -"

"Who are you?"

"Natalie."

Deception.

Not all emotions are felt, but being acted upon causes that emotion to rise up for the briefest of moments, unfelt and unknown by the person acting those emotions out.

"Hmm… and why should I believe you when you have done nothing but lie?"

Natalie smiled and walked forward, "I just want some answers."

"Funny that, so do I."

She stepped forward again, and again, and again when Harry made no move to stop her. She stopped her march forward until she stood at the bottom of the steps. Then she reached quickly into her pocket and pulled out her gun, pointing it at Harry's chest. "I need you to come with me."

"No."

"Don't make me shoot you. I have my orders and that's to take whoever is messing around with things they shouldn't be."

"And you know that I shouldn't be… how?"

"I have my orders."

Harry shrugged. "As do I." He turned to go inside.

Decisive. Trust. Patience.

Anticipation. Determined. Confident.

Harry had a moment to remind himself how foolish it had been to turn his back on the unknown people. The next instant, he felt a prick in his shoulder and he slumped down in heap of loose bones and fuzzed thoughts.

Harry came to in a cell of sorts.

Grey walls, chilly temperature and a bed that seemed determined to make his back ache.

The 'of sorts' came into play as he sat in front of a door and not bars.

Sitting up, Harry rubbed the back of his neck. He glanced around, but as nothing else stood in the room he couldn't actually look at anything except the walls or the ceiling. The bed didn't seem exciting to look at either, so Harry stood.

He had to blink as his gaze became unfocused.

Do you not wish that you had taken my gift?

"I don't need them," Harry said. He spoke under his breath and kept his head down so his hair covered his face.

You would not be in this mess otherwise.

"I always get in messes." Harry wished he could speak to Lady Death within his mind, but the couple of times he tried, the Lady said that he caused her a headache because he didn't know the nuance of the magic he trifled with. That he would end up losing his mind if he kept trying, so he stopped.

However, talking out loud never seemed sane.

You would have more magic at your disposal.

"I will be fine."

Or you will be stuck here. I am withholding all the emotions at the moment, but there are many, many people here.

Harry grit his teeth, but he didn't respond.

You will lose your mind and I will have no choice but to kill you and create another body for you. And then you will have to deal with another type of magic that you do not know how to handle.

"How will having that… help me?"

You will be able to leave.

"They traced me once. They will trace me again. They will keep following me, hunting me. I've had enough of being hunted!" Harry snapped his head up, balling his hands into fists as his voice raised. "I will not run."

Then don't. Take my gift, protect yourself.

"I can't die."

No, but you would still be stuck here.

"… Fine."

Tell me.

"I accept your… gift and I will take the responsibilities that come along with them. So I say, so mote it be."

Wind blew around him, causing his red hair to stream up above his head and the rush of air stung his arms and face.

When the gust calmed down he held the Elder Wand in his hand, the ring on his finger and the cloak clasped over his shoulders.

Your power is stronger, but you must learn new magic. You can speak with the dead, you can even visit them, but there is a time limit. You can become invisible, but you must pull the hood over your head. Welcome, my little Path Bringer.

The door burst open and a group of men and women stormed in, pointing their guns at him. In the front stood a tall man, his skin dark and an eye-patch over his left eye. He didn't have his gun pulled out, but instead stared directly at Harry.

"What the hell just happened?"

Harry blinked, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He cocked his head, eyes narrowed. He didn't answer.

"I asked you a question."

"You brought me here for no reason."

"That isn't the issue at the moment."

"If I weren't here, that wouldn't have happened and you wouldn't have questioned me. Hence… the issue starting with why you brought me here."

"I will have someone shoot you in the knee."

He will.

"Brilliant." Harry closed his eyes and sighed. His head still seemed a bit woozy and he sat again, fingers running over the Elder's Wand handle. "Now what?"

Answer him. Unless you wish to be shot.

"Excuse me?"

"Simple answer or… not so simple answer?" Harry looked around, thankful that Lady Death kept the emotions at bay. There had to be about twenty people in there, all with different emotions.

"Start with the simple."

"Magic."

"That isn't amusing."

"That's the simple answer." Harry kept his hands firmly in his lap. "Now, what am I doing here?"

The man's eyebrow twitched and the man beside him - in a suit, receding hairline and wearing an ear pierce - frowned. "Magic is not possible."

"That's what you think." Harry answered, his lips pulling up. He eyed the guns and wondered that when he died if it would hurt before he came back. "How else would you explain me receiving these things?"

A goddess, that's how.

"That's the answer we want, Mr…?"

Harry blinked before smiling as his chest ached. He glanced to the side, running his hand over the wood once more. Warmth spread up through his fingers and his magic sung. "Harry. Just Harry."

"No last name?" The eye-patched guy snapped.

"No," Harry murmured. "No last name."

He died. Twice. The second time he didn't look like himself. He no longer looked like a Potter. He couldn't claim that last name as his own.

"What is that not simple answer?"

Harry looked up and smiled. "I have an ability. I can bring things to me. I can levitate things. When I was younger, I didn't realize what it was. Now, I call it magic." He shrugged.

Not lying. Impressive. Half-truths, little Path Bringer?

Grinding his teeth together, Harry kept himself from yelling at Lady Death about the 'little' comment. Maybe earlier he had been, but now… now he stood over six feet.

"Everyone out." Most of them obeyed. A few stayed behind. Suit Man, the woman who spoke to him at his home and a man with a bow and arrow. Apparently that didn't matter as Eye-Patch Man said, "Prove it."

Harry stared at Eye-Patch. "May I have your names?"

Suit smiled, the corners of his mouth barely lifting. "We need your cooperation first."

"Ah, yes. My cooperation even though you had someone shoot me, drug me, dragged me here and demanded answers. I must have made a folly believing that you guys had any decency."

A shot rang out and Harry stared at wonder at the ground by his foot where a bullet-hole smoked before him.

"Bloody hell." He had almost been shot. Would he still feel pain? Would he feel like screaming? Would he want to die? Again and again and again?

Could he -

"I won't miss next time." The voice pulled him back, having him focus on the woman that now stood beside Eye-Patch and Suit. The woman that had talked to him earlier.

"Where's your partner?"

"How'd you know he was there?"

"Answer a question with a question. Fascinating."

Eye-Patch practically snarled. "Proof."

"Pick something, preferably small, for me to levitate."

"The bed."

"How is that small?"

"The bed."

"Not the woman?"

"The. Bed."

Of course Eye-Patch wanted him to levitate the thing that Harry sat on. Cocking his head, Harry eyed the grey blankets and wondered if he could lift it with him still sitting on the bed.

Only one way to find out.

Lady Death seemed too amused for his own good.

Shrugging, Harry pointed the Elder Wand at the bed and gave an experimental swish and a flick to remind himself of the motions. Before he could repeat the motion and utter the incantation, the bed started to rise.

Harry glanced from the wand, to the bed, back to the wand.

I did tell you that you would be stronger.

Harry didn't deign that with an answer.

Once he lowered the bed back down, he stared at the people around him.

Everybody just stared at him. Harry couldn't help it, he snickered.

Eye-Patch got a hold of himself the fastest. "What was that energy spike?"

"What's your name?"

Eye-Patch opened his mouth - most likely to argue - but Suit answered, "Phil Coulson, it's a pleasure to meet you." Harry inclined his head with a wry smile. "Now, the director asked you a question."

"He wasn't very specific. What energy spike? Just now? When I received my… items?" Harry twirled the Elder Wand before tucking it behind his ear.

"When you were in the Netherlands."

"Again, more specifics would be helpful. I stayed there for about ten years."

"Right before Agent Romanoff talked to you."

"The soul?"

Silence.

Harry cocked his head, trying to figure out what emotions they felt. He hadn't realized he would miss feeling them. Weird. Then again, so many people would not end well for him.

"Soul?" Apparently Phil Coulson started speaking for Eye Patch.

Harry didn't answer them, but he asked quietly under his breath, "What can I tell them?"

They know of gods.

Gods? They knew of… gods? Taking the cryptic answer, Harry answered Phil's question, "I'm a… Shepherd for the Dead. I create a passage from this world to the world where they need to go to move on."

"A Shepherd?"

The director didn't sound convinced.

"The literal translation is Path Bringer. I think…"

Brú enda.

"Brú enda?"

Bring to the end bridge. Path Bringer.

"I'm going to stick with Shepherd for the Dead."

"Who are you speaking to?"

Harry blinked up at the director. "Lady Death."

Again with the silence.

"Look, you believe in gods, yes?"

"I've met one."

"Really?" Harry turned his attention once more to Phil. "Which one?"

"Thor."

He would have to look up who Thor was. "I see. Well, you saw him. I work… not with Death as she is most adamant of not being Death, but she has something to do with Death."

"What is 'Brú enda'?"

Harry scrunched his nose, "Bring to the end bridge. Path Bringer for short. Shepherd of Death is a better translation."

The directer frowned, "So that energy flux was… a soul that you were taking… to a different world?"

"Leading to a different world." Harry shrugged. "In a manner of speaking. They have to find me and once they have enough energy, a pathway opens up and they have the chance to move there if they desire."

"If they don't?"

"I'm not sure. I have my theories, but no proof. Lady Death tells me basically nothing."

The directer said nothing. He just… turned and left, the others following.

I tell you nothing?

"Well… the important things you leave out."

All of a sudden, a gateway seemed to open up. Emotions slammed into a Harry with no warning.

Learn to compartmentalize otherwise you'll go insane. Good luck.

Well… great.

A/N IMPORTANT MESSAGE: Hi everyone! if you haven't seen my profile, then let me tell you what I'm doing. This is the first of 5 stories I'm posting today. I've been stuck on writing because I've been juggling between all the stories in my head. I'm going to focus on the story that gets the most views/follows/favorites/reviews ect ect. in the next week. I'll be doing a tally on 2-25-18.

I kinda of sorta looked up Old Norse for this, but I can not guarantee that it's correct - I used google, enough said. So… On that note… here's what I've used so far:

Brú = bridge

Enda = bring to an end

So… I've taken some liberties to the translation for my use. Oops? Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy!

Unbetaed