There were- are- were voices. Muffled, faraway voices.

Margaret! No, MARGARET-! Merlin, no- What'd she do?!

Pleading, sobbing voices...

Harry! We've got to- Harry- HARRY!

Screams. Painful, heart-wrenching screams.

She killed them! She killed Sirius! SHE KILLED THEM, I'LL KILL HER!

Laughter... Voices. Screams.

I KILLED SIRIUS BLACK! I KILLED SIRIUS BLACK! YOU COMIN' TO GET ME?!

Fading in and out were voices... Laughing. Mocking. Screaming. Voices.

But, then there was peace. Peace that was now forever. Eternal.

The voices faded with a crackle of lightning. Disappearing. Out of reach. A part of her left with them...

She was seeing, although it was not much different than having her eyes closed. She was standing, although it was not much different than floating.

But then there it was.

...Gold.

Gold?

Wisps of gold, tiny floating lights hovering above the ground she was standing on – was it even a ground? She was walking on darkness. Still, she followed the golden humming wisps of lights...

Up ahead, a figure became clearer – so dark he was almost one with the gloom – but... She recognised him. There was no light but she could see him. She should've been star-struck, at least a little bit, but she knew better. She drew closer, looking at his tangible form up and down, he was wearing a crisp black tux.

He had assumed a form, hadn't he? For he was not one but several... He was all and everywhere. Waiting, looming.

A smile stretched across on his face, hands buried in the pockets of his black dress pants.

She blinked. The gold floating lights disappeared with a poof. She blinked again. He was still there...

"Hello, Miss Xenakis," he greets in his smooth English accent. "You're early."

"And you're Tom Hiddleston," she says slowly, frowning. "What's going on?"

Mr Tom Hiddleston chuckled, shaking his head.

"I must admit, it's not such a bad look," he says, looking at her again. "I appear differently to everyone. You have quite a perception, Miss Xenakis, to imagine Death as attractive... Better than last time, I suppose."

"Last time?" she questions, perplexed.

He frowned at her. "Do you not remember...? Oh dear, you don't... Human mind is tricky for even those like you... Well, well. Not to worry, we have much time to discuss."

"No offence, but what are you saying?"

"Let us take a walk," he offers, gesturing behind him at complete blackness. "I believe you must have questions. And why wouldn't you?

Margaret, unable to process the rapid turn of events, looked down quizzically and still saw no ground.

"Not to worry," says Death understandingly. "You can walk."

Hesitant still, but incapable of feeling any conscious emotions for some reason, she fell into step with him.

"You said 'better than last time'," she says, frowning. "What do you mean?"

"Exactly what you think I meant," says Death. "We have met before. In fact, you gave me something."

"What?"

Death stared at her from the corner of his eye. "Your life."

"What?" she asks again, this time startled.

"We last met when you were sent to the Earth-111-72, or the Wizarding World, from Earth-Not which was where you were born," he replies.

"...Am I really here, then? You're real?"

"Not this time you are not," Death answers simply.

Perplexed beyond comprehension, she merely looked to Death. He did look handsome to her, but sort of in a way that a celebrity would seem, admirable but out of reach. Death smiled down at her charmingly.

"Dimensional travel requires a sacrifice," he goes on. "My reality is one of the only two ways to travel across realms; the other is Terra."

"Terra?" she asks. Despite not being able to feel properly, she recognised the familiar way the word rolled off her tongue. "Terra," she murmurs again, as though tasting food she had forgotten the name of. "And Terra is...?"

"We spoke about it when you were last here... But no matter, very few remember conversations with me," Death tells her, a smile unwavering on his sculpted face. "Terra looks over all the dimensions – but most importantly, it exists for Earth-Not, or Earth-0, which is where you are from. It is the centre of all life and realms."

"Is Terra another realm?"

"No; Terra is a reality, which exists just above Earth-Not; it is branched out over each realm in what they call Sub-Terra," says Death, before gesturing around at the nothingness. "This is a reality as well, only I'm under each realm."

"So... there's no heaven or hell?" she questions unsurely.

Death let out a real laugh, throwing his head back.

"No!" he says, grinning in amusement. "My way of working is complex, Miss Xenakis; it cannot be simplified into things like heaven and hell, which are nothing but human perceptions of things that beyond their comprehension. Some deceased beings also move to Terra, although that is only from an honorary invitation."

"What d'you mean?"

"Why of course I can't handle all supernatural beings and mighty heroes when they're reminisced by all even after their stories end! Such people are taken in by Terra," Death explains. "Names have power, Miss Xenakis. All the stories you've known of, all the people you've read about, they do not sprout out of mere human brains. The gift of creation is a curse and a blessing; it is what connects the realms within the vast universe that we exist in. But in order to physically travel from one world to another, the only possible way is through... me."

"How-" she shakes her head to clear her cluttered mind, "Why can't this Terra stop it?"

"I am known by all, while Terra isn't... Death exists equally and impartially for every living being in every single realm," he says, smiling grimly. "Hence, my reality has been a passage from one dimension to another for several millenniums. However, Terra suggests I discourage such travels, and I agree. Too many things could go wrong for all the worlds if something is drastically changed in one as each supports another... Hence why I ask for a price for passage, so only those willing to pay it may pass... Or they shall reside here in my reality. From you, I took your life in your world."

"I don't understand," she admits simply. "Am I dead?"

"You are dead, but you are not a resident of my reality; merely a passerby, a visitor," says Death, staring at the darkness ahead as though he saw something beyond it. "However if you so wish, you can stay. Death is open to all..."

At any other time, she would have been overwhelmed by all the information, but something there made her incapable of feeling anything other than peace. She tried not to focus on the enigma of Death's reality; she had more to ask, more to know, even if she would not remember this...

"I can stay? What happens if I don't?" she swallows, her throat feeling dry. "Is there a chance that maybe I can... go back?"

"Depends on what you mean by 'back'," says Death as they pause in their unknown tracks.

"I mean go back... to my realm, back to Earth-Not," she says softly, hesitantly. Was there really a choice? She had never thought about this.

He inclined his head. "Of course, you can."

Her eyes widened. "Wait – you're not joking? Are you serious?"

Serious? Serious...

SIRIUS!

She gasped, looking around in the darkness. "Oh my-! What- Wait, where's Sirius?"

Death looked at her in confusion. "Why would he be here? It is not his time yet."

"Is he- Is he... alive?"

"I would assume so," says Death. "Did you not almost die saving him?"

"You said I can go back," she says firmly, ignoring whatever he was blabbering. Her mind was racing; even if she could not feel, she could still think. "If I go back, will everything I changed in the Wizarding World be undone?"

"Time's workings are not in my hands," Death answers lowly. "Everything would remain the way you've changed it. However, it is my duty to warn you – you've set off more than you realise. You've stopped two humans from being brought into my reality – Broderick Bode and Sirius Black. One of them will be very vital in the war that you've left him in. Moreover, humans, no matter what realm, take me very seriously... He shall bear the guilt of your death for the rest of his extended life whether you decide to reside here or go back to the world you were born in."

"But I don't want him to feel guilty," she mutters, feeling the first tinge of sadness. "I would die for him a hundred times."

"Very predictable, Miss Xenakis. After all, you see me as attractive," says Death, smiling once more. "At any rate, if you wish to travel back to your dimension again, your body shall disappear from the Wizarding World and reappear back at the moment you disappeared from your world on September 1st, 2019... Now that is Time's doing, not mine."

She looked up, brows furrowed. "So I won't be dead there anymore...?"

"No. You would've passed on."

"What will everyone in the Wizarding World think?"

Death waved his hand dismissively. "That's for Terra to deal with. They usually alter memories, make loved ones think there was a funeral according to their religion. It's way easier if everybody thought you dead than wonder why you randomly disappeared."

For a moment, she said nothing. It was unbelievable that she had a choice; that she could even consider going back to her world, back to her father and mother...

But... there would be no Harry there, or Hermione, Ron, Neville, Ginny, Luna, or even Daphne. There would be no Fred and George, or Sirius and Remus. No Dumbledore, no Mr and Mrs Weasley, no Tonks. There would be no Draco... No Hogwarts...

All she would have would be a family who often abandoned her; she would have to lead a life in a magic-less, friendless world while never being able to use her powers freely again...

"Remember what I said, Miss Xenakis," Death speaks up, staring at her seriously. "A sacrifice would be required if you choose to go back to your world."

She blinked. "I'll be dead to them, is that not enough?"

"You've already given me your existence in a world once," says Death, shaking his head. "You will have to give something else."

"Like what?"

Death looked her in the eye. "...Your magic."

Her eyes widened and she immediately shook her head. "There has to be another way! Magic makes me who I am – you can't take that-!"

"When you change dimensions, Miss Xenakis, you do not merely disappear from one place and appear in another," says Death calmly. "You are, in a way, reborn; and when rebirth happens, you do not come back the same. Think about it... you are not the same person as you used to be in the realm you were born and raised."

"There has to be another way," she argues sternly. "You're not telling me something."

Death rolled his eyes and began strolling leisurely again, prompting her to walk as well.

"There is another way..." he says lowly, lip curling as though he had tasted something bitter. "But I'd rather not-"

"Tell me," she pleads. "Anything but my magic – please, I'll give anything!"

Death shot her a side look. "You know, you are exceptionally like your father."

"I- What?"

"I never understood the human need to keep secrets and create deceptions," he sighs, shaking his head to himself. "Well, I'd rather not tell you this... as the previous time this did not end well... but-"

"Just tell me, Mr Tom Hiddleston!"

Death chuckled despite himself before a grave look crossed his face. "A sacrifice is necessary for dimensional travel. If you would so like to keep your magic, something which makes you a witch, then you must give up what makes you... human," he pauses in his tracks once again, turning to look down at her, seemingly conflicted. "Keep in mind that this would greatly contradict with your Wyrd, your destiny, which compels you against killing."

"What is it?" she asks impatiently.

"You must give up your empathy."

She frowned, not understand the gravity of such a sacrifice. "How can you take away a feeling...?"

"It is not merely a feeling. Empathy is the ability to feel for others. One can be trained to feel less or more of it. Those without empathy are incapable of understanding simple feelings of others, whether it is their grief or happiness, they cannot comprehend it. They only care about their own selves," explains Death gravely. "If you give up your empathy, you'll remain a shell of who you are... There is no growth in such a rebirth. It would only lead to your downfall..."

She was left speechless. Not because she did not know what to do – she had always known her choice deep down – but because she could feel again.

The golden wispy lights reappeared in a circle around her as simultaneously a decisive look crossed her face. Margaret's eyes flashed red.

Death smiled a friendly smile. "I knew you'd make the right choice..."

"I never chose to come to the Wizarding World," says Margaret, "but it is my home now."

"It is where you belong," Death says understandingly, glancing at the gold wisps near her feet. "I take it back, Miss Xenakis, you are nothing like your father. He was very reminiscent of your ancestors, even at such a young age..."

"So am I like my mother?" she asks, mildly sarcastic.

Death raised a perfect brow. "I cannot speak about those I have not met," he says, gesturing at the golden wisps. "I see you have his protection."

Margaret frowned too many questions in her mind. "Whose protection?"

"Myrrdin, of course," says Death smilingly, as though speaking of an old friend. "He seems very fond of you."

She had no idea who that was, and there were more important things to focus on; "Did you know my ancestors?" she asks.

"Ah yes," says Death, looking up to meet her eyes again with a small smirk. "Your ancestors were the first ones to ever figure out a loophole in dimensional travelling; although they did not expect me to ask for a price. They were quite obsessed with all things pure... When they found out about Earth-Not, they wanted to move there for they believed the centre of all dimensions to be the purest. The day they were supposed to do so, they were attacked by their enemies."

He paused to gesture at the gold lights, "And they accidentally ended up dragging them to my reality as well, which, as you know, is one of the two passages to different dimensions. Earth-111-72, or the Wizarding World, considered this a great insult and sealed itself against them all, even those who had no idea what was going on. Yes, sometimes realms do act on their own accord."

The golden lights around Margaret began shining brighter.

"And then...?" she asks eagerly.

Death smiled grimly. "Many of them were arrogant while their enemies were upset at the happenings. They rather preferred dying than giving up their magic. Ones who had the option did not want to give up their empathy, and the others were so ruthless that they did not have much of it to be considered a sacrifice... So, most of them chose to reside in my reality. Only two gave up their magic and moved on – one from the Xenakis family, who believed he would find a way to restore his magic and rule over the heart of all dimensions, and one from Myrrdin's family, who knew she had to stop him from bringing devastation in another world."

The golden lights were burning brighter but Death looked unbothered by it all.

"This was, in Time's terms, over five-hundred years ago. Terra never managed to deal with such a bizarre happening," he continues. "How does one explain to a whole world what happened to two very wide-spread families? Both were very well-known for their rivalry but more known for whom they descended from, and the Wizarding World, to date, simply believes they vanished without a trace because they ended up killing each other. After a while, only some tried to track them down but they all failed, while others got too busy making laws to protect magic from the non-magic people in their world..."

"But..." she breathes, her mind whirling with all the new information. She felt overwhelmed. No, she could breathe again. "What- What happened to the two?" she gasps, suddenly finding it hard to breathe as the lights around her burned brighter than ever. "And will I... remember you? Will I remember all this?"

"They moved on after a while and never saw each other again. They had several generations of families. As for me, you will remember and you will not; it shall be clear in its due time," says Death, still smiling. "It is your time to go back now. But before you do, Miss Xenakis, you must understand this."

It was then that something felt oddly... wrong.

"...Yes?" she asks suspiciously.

And though Death was still smiling, something in his tone had changed. There was no air in Death's reality, but Margaret felt suddenly so cold that her teeth began chattering.

"You may perceive me as what you want," he begins slowly, "but it would do you well to remember that I'm neither good nor bad. I am but a necessity."

"And in war?" she asks daringly, watching as a shadow crosses Death's assumed face.

"Death is a necessity, war or no war," he says lowly, eyes darkening as he becomes one with the darkness. "However, time's workings are not in my hands... Destiny's workings are even further away... And so, even though I respect you, Margaret Xenakis, do not return to my reality ever again."

Margaret did not get the chance to ask what would happen the day she finally did die, as at that moment the surroundings overtook with bright gold light, blinding her and forcing her to close her eyes. Death's voice faded into an eerie calm.

All that remained was the sound of her own heartbeat...

was the sound of her own heartbeat... and... voices?

Fading in and out were voices. Whispers... Talking. Joking. Pleading.

But then there was peace. Peace that was now slowly breaking...

She did not want to leave it. The gold that she seemed to be floating in was comforting, and it did not take her long to realise that they were not her powers. It felt different, separate, the magic felt ancient but calming... It embraced her like an old friend, cared for her so that she would not feel lonely as she healed...

She did not want to leave it. But it coaxed her to go on, reminded her she had many things to live for...

But she did not want to... leave it. She wanted to stay. She yearned for the familial feeling it gave... However, the ancient magic was slowly slipping away, leaving her filled with longing for something that seemed to be a sweet dream.

She did not want to leave it – and she was not. It was not goodbye, she promised. She will find it someday again and embrace it like it had embraced her in her time of need...