"A man can have anything his heart desires, if he is willing to sacrifice."

In a world where good is punished and evil was rewarded, it was those words that drove one Harry James Potter to become the creature that so many people had come to fear. On a large obsidian throne he sat, shrouded in a smoky, yet liquidy, shadow that covered the majority of his figure and the bones of his enemies scattered on the floor around him. This creature, that had once been a good man and an even better father, was now an obsidian skeleton covered in cobwebs. His humanity had been traded away millions of years ago, mortal flesh and bone having melted away to reveal the true creature everyone once labeled him as. Harry Potter he may still call himself, but there was little of that person still within what remained of his soul.

"Your privilege is the dirt," small emerald flames sprung to life in Harry's blackened eye sockets, his bone fingers twitched as something attempted to invade his domain.

"Do not presume there are limits to my power," the shadows seemed to grow and stretch around Harry's form, "Whatever you hope to achieve by opposing me, know that you will never succeed."

Harry silently regarded the person before him, not seeing them as a mortal would but as a singular aspect of the universe itself. This person was like him, yet not like him. This creature had the appearance of a woman, even if her magic was nearly as black as his own. Her skin was a deathly pallor, covered in deep red and purple veins that ran up her arms and face. The sclerae of her eyes were as black as Harry's bones and her irises glowed a magnificent hellfire red. She wore a long black robe with red designs resembling eyes, a ring resembling an insect on her right index finger, and had her hair tied up in a strange manner. This mortal woman was attractive, in a dark manner, but she'd awoken Harry from his slumber and would now be judged.

"After so man years, I've finally found you," the woman spoke, having not noticed Harry's own awakening, and reached out as if to claim his obsidian skull for herself.

The dull emerald flames in Harry's eyes suddenly exploded to life the very moment this strange woman's fingers touched his jaw, sending her skidding back several yards and actually managing to burn her! Then, as if responding to some unknown summons, the skeletons littering the floor suddenly sprung to life with green fire holding them together instead of flesh. The woman herself stood up to her full height, raised her right hand, and blasted the skeletons to ashes with small balls of fire. She was being careful not to hit Harry, something the once mortal man noticed, and only stopped her barrage of fire when the last of his minions crumbled to ashes.

"You have found only death," Harry's voice seemed to echo through the entire cavern they were in, making the woman look around in all directions thinking someone had followed her to this hidden place.

"Yet you hide from me," the woman stated smugly, forming another ball of fire in her free hand, as she continued to look for someone that wasn't there to begin with.

Harry's obsidian bones creaked and ground against each other as he slowly got up from his dark throne, the shadows that surrounded him forming a solid cloak, and the look of astonishment this woman sent him was almost enough to make him laugh. Then, as if forming out of thin air, a mighty looking sword appeared in Harry's skeleton hand and a small portion of his power was suddenly unleashed upon the world. The sword in his hand looked to be made of pure silver, its hilt set with egg-sized rubies with beautifully crafted carvings spaced in between them, and the blade abous as long as his neck to his feet.

"I hide from no one," Harry's voice now clearly coming from the direction he was standing in, "For I am oblivion, the end, darkness, and decay. I am Death."

"Death you may be, but I am cursed to never die," the woman replied without missing a beat, only to blink in surprise when the sword vanished from Harry's hand and pain swiftly tore through her chest.

"All things die," was all Harry said, his sword glowing an ominous black.

"Such power," was all Salem said before her body turned to ash, leaving only Harry's sword floating in the air before slowly gliding back into his awaiting hands.

Harry stood there for a moment, watching the ash that had once been a mortal, before noting a strange golden glow surrounding each little flake. Within a matter of moments the ash flakes began to levitate into the air and then snap back together, once again forming the woman that had awoken him. This act along, being able to defy his weakest form of bringing true death, was almost enough to give Harry pause.

"But a curse placed upon me by the brother Gods will not allow me to die. I am immortal, never to be touched by death," the woman spoke, a tinge of sadness seeping into her voice but carefully masked behind arrogance.

"Even curses rot away with time, mortal, but I would know the name of the one who has awoken me," the way Harry spoke, combined with the sheer power that rolled off of him in waves, actually made this supposedly immortal woman shiver.

"I've gone by many names over the years, but to most I am simply Salem," the now named Salem spoke, her eyes glowing just a bit brighter as her own black magic exploded out around her, "And I will take what I've come to find, even if I must kill Death itself."

"Your words are as desperate as they are useless."

The earth around them exploded, the sky caught fire, the air became toxic, and a continent was sung into the ocean.

This story is what happens when you read a Harry Potter is Death fanfiction and bengewatch RWBY. I blame the internet.