"I see you are not wasting your new life being idle," a deep voice said, startling Harry, who span, wand raised and ready to curse whoever had caught him.
Seeing exactly who, or rather what, had snuck up on him, Harry let out a breath. "Death," he greeted.
"Master," Death said, His grave voice seeming to fill the room without being loud.
Harry stood and wondered why the powerful being was here; he knew he hadn't summoned Him.
"I am here as I said I would be. I did say I would check in from time to time," Death said, making Harry wonder if the being could hear his thoughts even through his rings and Occlumency shields.
"Oh," Harry said, before he thought of a question to ask. "Do you know of any way I can return Tom's sanity to him?" he asked. He had yet to find a solution.
Death was silent, making Harry want to squirm as being in His presence was always overwhelming.
"The magic he used to gain his immortality—" Death managed to put an astonishing level of disdain behind the word, "—is a magic I abhor. It splits the caster's very self, not just their soul, but their mind, magic, and emotion. To fix him, you must find a way to reconnect the pieces he cast off."
Harry withheld his sigh - he already knew that. "Yes, but do you know how to do that specifically?" he asked, barely stopping himself from sounding like he was whining.
"I do," Death said. The silent 'but' easily heard.
"Yet...?" Harry asked.
"I think that it would be best for you to work for the results," Death said, making Harry want to cry with frustration. He was magically exhausted and Death was taunting him. "I am not fond of those who use such magics. I think that your soulmate can suffer however long it takes you to find the solution."
"But there is a solution," Harry wanted verified.
"Yes," Death confirmed.
"Fine then, I will find it," Harry vowed. He didn't blame Death for His decision, he just wasn't pleased.
"I have no doubt, master," Death said.
"What about the stone?" Harry asked, thinking about Death's words about those who sought immortality.
Death seemed to come closer without really moving. "Ah, the famed Philosopher's Stone, you really have been quite busy, master. That stone I actually do like; Nicholas did spend such a long time working on it," Death answered.
"So, you wouldn't be angry if I used it one day? Or gave it to Tom?" Harry asked.
"No," Death said. "I doubt you would wish to stay my master if your soulmate passed, and I would prefer him to use the stone over his other solution."
Harry smiled in relief. "Thank you."
"I have done nothing," Death said. "I shall go now; I have seen you are not in need of me. Remember, you can call if need, but know I shall not always answer." Like before, He disappeared into the shadows once again.
Harry stood for a moment before crashing; he really was exhausted and the conversation hadn't helped. Barely able to stay awake, Harry just about managed to make his way back to Ravenclaw tower. Getting to his trunk, Harry pulled out the stone and observed it. For such a small item, it really had caused a lot of bother. Unlocking his trunk, Harry placed it in the most protected part and added numerous charms and even a few dark hexes to keep people out. At this point, Harry was barely awake, his magical energy was distinctly low and he struggled to undress before falling into a deep and dreamless sleep.
The next day, Harry didn't wake up until well into the afternoon. Stretching, Harry felt refreshed; he was surprised at how drained he had been, but considering he never had need to do so much magic at once, he summarised that he shouldn't have been so shocked. Magic was like a muscle: it needed to be used and stretched. Yes, his magical core was large, but as he never had need to use much of it, especially as an eleven year old, it shouldn't surprise him that completing two such powerful rituals in just over 24 hours left him drained.
Thinking about that, Harry considered ways of training up his magical stamina; it would be hard to do it undetected, but he thought the benefits would be worth it. He had gained control over his new power levels, no longer having bursts of magic when he was angry, but he had yet to really explore them. Harry had kept his power masked pretty much constantly; stretching it would probably do his a world of good.
Making sure not to act suspicious when he finally went down to lunch, Harry made sure to casually look around and observed the staff. He didn't notice anything off and concluded that his plan had worked. He had gotten away with taking the stone.
Thinking back on his conversation with Death, Harry almost wondered if he had imagined it in his sleep deprived state, before he flicked the thought away.
January 1992 Hogwarts
When the students returned the next day, Harry was pleased to find himself back in the company of Neville and the girls.
"So, how was your holiday? Did you do anything interesting?" Hannah asked.
Harry smirked internally when he thought about all he had accomplished, but outwardly he remained passive. "Not really, I mainly just tried to ignore Ronald," Harry replied.
"Well, next time you will just have to take us up on our offers to have you over," Susan said.
"I'll think about it, I promise," Harry replied.
"You had better," she said before smiling. "Oh, and I wanted to thank you again for the hair pins. They really are beautiful."
"It's okay, Sues, I'm glad you like them. The book you got me was amazing as well," Harry said. He had started to read it just that morning and found that it gave clear instructions and suggestions about how to advance in creating mind shields and protections.
After that, the group went on to talk about presents and their holidays, as though they hadn't already told each other through owls. Harry didn't mind as he sat silently and observed his friends.
~
Harry had been called up to Flitwick's office just after Christmas to have a chat with him; the meetings were for all first years to see how they were settling. Harry had been nervous about Flitwick as he wasn't sure if his goblin heritage would make him pick up on Harry's abnormalities. However, the diminutive professor hadn't, or, at least, he hadn't made it known he sensed anything different.
"Hello, Harry," the Charms professor had greeted jovially.
"Good afternoon, sir," Harry replied. He hadn't really ever interacted with the part-goblin in his last life and was surprised to see how proactive he was in managing his house compared to McGonagall. He always spent the morning of every other Sunday in the common room, making himself available to help his students.
"Why don't you take a seat for me, Harry?" Flitwick suggested.
Sitting in the offered chair, Harry looked up and waited.
"Well Harry, from looking at your scores from this past term, I have to say: I am extremely proud of you. You're at the top of all of your classes and you're producing results that are well beyond the normal capabilities of a first year student."
Harry contained his scowl. He had tried to bring his work level down, but even with that he outclassed his peers by a considerable margin. "Thank you, sir," he said. He didn't mind being thought of as a prodigy, but he felt bad for his peers competing against him.
"Now, from looking at your results, I can clearly see you're not having any problem with the work. However, I wouldn't be doing my job if I didn't ask; is there any area you feel you need help or support in?"
"No, sir," Harry said honestly. "That could obviously change, but at the moment I find the work load and classes to be fine."
"Good, good," Flitwick said before a slightly darker look appeared on his face.
"Now Harry, I know that you and I haven't really had a chance to talk much this year; however, I do want you to know that I will always stand by my students and fight for them," he said seriously.