Harry Potter: Toji Potter

The Book of Death rested on a black obsidian pedestal, its leathery surface pulsating faintly as though alive. The group stood in a cavernous hall, the oppressive air of Hell pressing down on them. The room was lit by an eerie, pale light emanating from the book itself, casting long shadows that seemed to twist unnaturally.

"That's it," Hades said, his deep voice reverberating through the chamber. "The Necronomicon Mortem, the Book of Death. Within it are the names of all mortals destined to die."

Harry stepped forward, his expression solemn. "This is what we came for."

The group followed him cautiously, their footsteps echoing against the stone floor. Harry reached out, his hand steady as he opened the book. Its pages were filled with dense, ancient script that seemed to shift and writhe as they looked at it.

"Let's find your names," Harry said, scanning the pages with a sharp eye. His magic flowed into the book, causing the script to settle and reveal its secrets.

One by one, they found their names written in the ominous text. Hades explained the process: Harry would channel his Death Divinity to erase their names, severing their ties to mortality and granting them immunity from death by natural causes.

As he erased Fleur's name, the page shimmered and then went blank. Fleur shivered, her Veela magic responding to the severing of her mortal bonds. Daphne and Tracey followed, their reactions similar, though each woman bore a determined look.

Finally, it was Hermione's turn. She hesitated for a moment, glancing at Harry. "Are you sure this is the only way?"

Harry nodded. "It's the safest way to make sure you're with me for as long as possible."

Hermione took a deep breath and stepped forward. Harry erased her name, the glow of the book reflecting in her eyes.

When they were done, Harry moved to look for his own name. His fingers turned the pages with purpose, but his brows furrowed as he scanned the text.

"It's not here," he muttered.

"What?" Hermione asked, stepping closer.

Harry closed the book and leaned back. "My name's not in the Book of Death."

Everyone froze. The weight of his words settled like a stone. Hades himself looked taken aback, a rare expression of confusion crossing his usually stoic face.

"Impossible," the God of the Underworld said. "Every mortal's name is here."

Harry scratched the back of his neck, his casual demeanor a stark contrast to the stunned silence. "Ah, yeah. About that... I absorbed Death a while ago, back when I mastered it. So, technically, this book is mine now. I'm not in it because I am Death."

The group stared at him, their expressions ranging from shock to disbelief.

"You what?" Daphne asked, her voice sharp.

"Mastered Death," Harry repeated, yawning. "The Hallows, the power... all of it. I bring Death now, not the other way around."

Fleur blinked. "So... you cannot die?"

"Pretty much," Harry said, closing the book with a decisive snap. "This thing is more of a book with cool names for me now." 'Hell, if I really wanted to, we could pick names for children out of this.' Quite the thought, no?

With the task complete, Hades led the group out of Hell. The oppressive darkness faded as they climbed the steps to Olympus, the air growing lighter and warmer with each step. When they emerged into the radiant halls of the gods, they were met with applause and nods of approval from the Olympians.

Harry, however, barely noticed. A strange sensation washed over him, starting as a dull ache and quickly escalating into an overwhelming pressure. He staggered, falling to one knee as his head swam.

"Harry?" Hermione's voice was laced with panic.

"I'm... fine," he managed to say, though his vision blurred. Before anyone could react, his eyes rolled shut, and he passed out. Yet, somehow, his body remained standing, an eerie stillness overtaking him.

The Olympians rushed forward, their faces marked with concern. Athena was the first to speak. "Get him to a bed. Quickly."

Apollo and Asclepius, gods of health and medicine, moved swiftly, guiding Harry's rigid form to a luxurious chamber where they laid him down. The group hovered nearby, worry etched into their faces.

"What's wrong with him?" Daphne demanded, her tone sharp with anxiety.

Asclepius placed a hand on Harry's forehead, his expression thoughtful. "His body is undergoing a profound transformation. His mortal shell is being reforged into a divine one. This is the onset of deification."

The words hit the group like a thunderclap. Hermione's hands flew to her mouth, Fleur gasped, and Tracey looked as though she might faint.

"How long will this take?" Fleur asked, her voice trembling.

"That depends," Apollo replied, his golden aura flickering. "But if he is to reach his full potential, we must assist him. He needs divine power to stabilize his transformation."

The Olympians gathered, their forms radiating power. Each god extended their hands, their divine energies pooling into a shimmering orb of light. It pulsed with incredible force, the sheer weight of it pressing against the walls of the chamber.

The orb descended onto Harry's still form, sinking into him like water into parched earth. His body absorbed the power hungrily, and his aura flared—a dark, deathly energy that made even the gods uneasy.

The girls watched in awe and trepidation, their hearts heavy with worry and hope. "He'll wake up soon," Athena said, her voice firm. "And when he does, he will be stronger than ever."

The group settled into an uneasy vigil, waiting for the moment when Harry would open his eyes once more.