And I'll hardly need you every moment. You may spend most of your eternity as you please. For now, you will finish your schooling and become familiar with your powers. You'll be of no use without a firm grasp on them. You'll learn in an eon or two that all of this was worthwhile. Honestly, I grant you unlimited power and you complain!"
Harry felt very, very, tired, the worst of the pain having shifted into an aching weariness that left him desperate for a long nap. Dying had not been fun.
Luckily, he thought with a twinge of madness, that was unlikely to happen again. He was dead. He tried to parse whatever the fuck was happening to him - that he was apparently Death's bitch now and what was that bit about him not being human anymore? - but he couldn't understand so he didn't. Questions flickered through his mind faster than he could speak them and he was so, so tired.
"Goodness, the time! It's so easy to forget about such trivial concepts. I apologize. You, and Albus, if you would like to keep him, should return to your school. Your death and unmaking took considerably longer than I had anticipated. You will be missed, if you skip your little tournament. I believe you should be just in time for supper. I imagine dying must make you quite hungry. Not that you strictly require nutrients anymore, but it will take time for your brain to adjust to the concept of immortality. You had better depart."
Dumbledore, who had been standing there the whole time, vibing and unconcerned, dead as he was, came over to Harry with a twinkling smile.
Death turned to the pair. "Oh, and Harry, child. Do make sure you reach that goblet first. I have been waiting to visit Tom for a long time now, and I would hate to disappoint him and ruin his plans. You have nothing to fear from him anymore, and really, I'm quite curious to see what he comes up with in his next and final attempt to thwart me." Death patted him on the shoulder and chuckled. With a final wave of its arm, the shadows grabbed his heels and deposited him and Dumbledore in the entrance hall.
Dumbledore dusted off his robe.
"Well, a successful adventure indeed, my boy!" He said cheerfully. "I hope they have shepherd's pie for dinner."
Wrath Of The Lich King
Harry had returned with an hour to spare before the start of the third task. It was incredibly inconvenient for his starving belly but incredibly convenient in that he had no time to explain himself to his friends and especially to his mama who sent him a stern glare from the head table. Apparently, going missing for almost twenty-four hours had not gone without notice. Luckily, there were no screams of terror at undead Dumbledore and no one at the table said anything about Harry either.
He shoveled down some food so he could run upstairs to change and get a look at himself in a mirror. He hoped he did not look corpse-like, or skeletal.
No matter his appearance, and no matter the confusion and thousands of questions racing in his mind, Harry had the comfort of knowing he was almost done. The school year was wrapping up, the final tournament task was finishing tonight, and Death sounded confident that Voldemort would be taken care of quickly.
It would be summer soon, and Harry could play some quidditch and hang out with his friends and hope that mama understood what to do with all the Death stuff. His undeath would be his retirement if he had anything to say about it.
Dumbledore's final words of wisdom stuck with him. He'd worry about what was reasonable, do his best in the final task, and deal with anything else as it came up. He was exhausted, but he just had to get through tonight. One more night, one more task, and everything would finally be over.
Death's more ominous final words were vaguely comforting. He wasn't surprised to learn that Voldemort would be waiting to ambush him. He could only hope that if the Dark Lord lay siege to Hogwarts, no one else would be hurt. It was obvious the man was becoming increasingly desperate to get his hands on the Boy-Who-Lived, and Harry was not going to accept any collateral damage to Voldemort's plans. Harry himself would be fine no matter what happened, but it wasn't him he had to worry about. All he could do was be vigilant.
Harry changed into another one of his adventurous ass-kicking outfits (jeans) and stared at himself in the mirror for a long moment. He hadn't bothered to turn the light on, but it was unnecessary. His cursed green eyes illuminated the empty bathroom. He looked human. He was human. He wasn't human, technically, was what Death had said. He should have gotten more clarification on that part, Harry giggled to himself. He opened his mouth. Human teeth. Human fingers. He didn't feel any different at all, just fighting the urge to lay down - which surely meant he was still human if he was tired?
No soul though! That was an important thing to be missing and no doubt made him inhuman. He pulled his signet ring from his finger. Every single day for years, he'd worn and cared very diligently for his Freak in the Cupboard. The former horcrux was now nothing more than metal. He tried to feel within himself for the Freak but wasn't sure how. It wasn't like he'd forgotten his time with his relatives, he'd just removed the emotion from it, his fear and innocence. Harry could remember his uncle losing his cool and cuffing him across the cheek, but he did not feel much at all at the memory.