Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling. No money is being made.

Written for The Daily Weird Prompt Thing – Halloween Edition

Prompt: Scythe

InBetween

He watched as the child looked around, confusion clouding the green eyes.

"Hello?" the small child called.

For a moment, he thought about just letting the child be, however when those eyes filled with tears, the decision was made for him. He was many things, but he was not unnecessarily cruel. At least not to this child.

"Hello, Child." His lips quirked when the little one almost jumped out of his skin. In different circumstances he would have worried that the child's heart would have beat right out of his chest.

Those green eyes widened when they landed on him, fear appearing on the tiny face.

"Wh-where am I? Who are you?"

If it weren't so beneath him, he would have sighed. It was always so different with children. They had not yet learned to fear him; they had no true concept of him.

"I am Death, Child, and you are in the InBetween."

The young one frowned, and looked him up and down.

"If you're Death, where is your scythe?"

Death stared for a moment; then a low, raspy chuckle left him. That had been the first time in all his existence that someone had asked him such a thing.

"I am Death. I have no need for a scythe."

"Oh..." The boy looked a little disappointed at the answer, and Death could not stop his lips from twitching. "I saw it in a picture. It looked really cool."

Death almost shook his head at the absurdity of the statement. The ideas mortals came up with… truly, a scythe of all things. Why would Death need any weapon at all? Mortals made so little sense.

"I… I'm dead then?"

He looked back at the little one that was valiantly trying to contain his tears.

"That is usually what happens when one gets pushed down the stairs and breaks their neck."

A tear finally raced down the pale cheek, and Death pulled the child into an embrace. He contained a sigh when he felt the small body shudder. He lifted the child onto his arms, feeling the small arms wrap around his neck.

"Let's take you back to the mortals, little one," he said soothingly, while he caressed the child's dark, unruly hair.

"Back? But I'm dead..." He barely caught the mumbled words.

"I did say usually, did I not?"

The boy nodded, still holding onto him as if he were a lifeline – which was truly ironic. A moment later they were beside the battered body of the young soul he was holding. He made sure the child did not look at the body. There was no need to scar the child any more than he already was.

He blinked and the broken body was whole.

"Sleep," he whispered, knowing it would make the transition easier. The stubborn child shook his head, and he chuckled. He forced the young soul asleep, smiling when the hold on his neck didn't lessen even after the child fell into a restful slumber.

Slowly, with more care than he had done anything else in a very long time, he put the young soul back in the mortal body.

He smiled when the young one took a shuddering breath.

He would claim the child; now was just not the time.

The child was older, and there was no surprise in his green eyes when he saw Death.

"Hello, Child."

"My name is Harry."

"I know." There was no fear in those eyes. It was as it should be. Not that the young wizard knew that, of course.

"Then why do you not call me that?"

"Most people are not that eager to be on first name basis with Death." He could not help but tease. He smirked when the child threw him an aggravated look.

"Most people aren't killed by their muggle cousin, and then are brought back to life by Death. I think we can establish that I'm not most people."

Death had to smile at that. The little wizard did not realize just how true that was.

"It is time to go back, Harry." He held out his hand, waiting for the little one to take it. Harry looked at it for a moment, before he grasped his hand in a firm grip.

"You still don't have a scythe."

He chuckled, pulling the child along. "I still do not need one."

"Little one, this is becoming repetitive."

It was endearing how the green-eyed wizard was able to look sheepish and defiant all at once.

"It wasn't on purpose. I couldn't just let Ginny die."

Ah, yes. The female. He had almost forgotten about her.

"So, you decide to face a basilisk unarmed?"

"I had a sword..."

"Maybe you would have done better with a scythe."

Death chuckled when the wizard glared at him and pulled him along, back to the world of the living.

Death had been anticipating it.

The day had finally come, it was time to claim the little wizard. He had even brought a gift for the little one.

He let Harry talk with his Headmaster, not that he was all that pleased with the older wizard – still, in the end the wizard had done what he should have done; he had given up what did not belong to him.

They had all been created for one person, and one person only.

They belonged to the little green-eyed wizard, his son – created from his very soul, put in a mortal woman, and given a mortal life, until the time was right.

The time was finally right, and when the former Headmaster left, he was alone with his child.

"Harry." He smiled when the wizard turned towards him.

"Death, what's that?"

Death gave him the box, watching as Harry's eyes opened wide when he saw what was inside.

"Since you seemed so fixated on it, I found it only right that you had one."

He watched as Harry picked up the scythe, looking at every small detail. He grinned when Harry looked up sharply once he saw the name engraved on the blade.

"Death's Son?"

"The Potter bloodline always had a very close relationship with Death, as you well know. When James and Lily Potter could not have a child, I decided to give them a gift. You. I gave them part of myself, and they had you. My child."

Death let the wizard process the information for as long as he needed. Time meant nothing in the InBetween.

"And now what?" Harry asked in what could have been an eternity later.

"Now you go back to life. You bring me the rest of Tom Riddle's soul, and after that… You are my child, you are free to do whatever you wish. Nothing will stand in your way. Enjoy life, and when you are bored of this world, I will show you all the secrets in the Universe."

Harry gripped the shiny, black scythe that fit perfectly in his grip. It felt as if it had been in his possession since forever.

Death smiled at him, and held out his hand.

Harry took it, knowing that nothing would ever be the same again.