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Harry was losing breath. His legs kept moving, even if the muscles were screaming, and still the little fucker was acquiring even more space. A what to be 15 again! Young and jumping like a bunny. Instead what Harry’s got was old joints and a semi-functioning left leg, courtesy of an old dark curse from a decade ago, not that this meant anything when his job was chasing dark wizards, even teenager ones.
Michael Pompley was a blond Hufflepuff, still with all his baby fat on his cheeks and big blue eyes. Sure the further thing from anything evil and bad. At least that’s what the Aurors thought. The investigation was because several of the students' pets kept disappearing. At first they thought it was just coincidence, owls are flying creatures and it is not like they always stay in one place, but after even the cats and all the toads were gone, old headmaster McGonnagal knew something was wrong. The investigators started searching the premises and what was found was even more worrying than they thought. In an old classroom on the third floor in a wing no one ever went, was a blood circle and five cats with their throat slit. This wasn’t normal kidnapping, but a Necromancy Ritual and only one of the students could have done it. So the force started mobilitating, more agents were called and the student body started noticing something was wrong, even if they didn’t know all the details. The interviews started and the first suspects were drawn, older years 18-17 because of the complexity of the spell, and Slytherins because prejudice died hard even after almost 30 years since the Second Wizarding War.
When nothing was coming out of it the Ministry had to do something and that’s how Harry found himself in the Great Hall that morning, tired after a sleepless night and his last case. Usually when they called him, shit was going down and even being the most infamous Hit-Wizard in the history of wizarding Harry wasn’t moved. The moment he went about the files of the investigations he noticed how thin they were, and when asked if this was about all the students from the four houses, the answer was for just those of age and from a certain snake house. Unamused, he ordered new interviews this time of all ages and especially of Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs, because Harry wasn’t prejudicated and also he knew Ravenclaws were smart enough not to leave scenes of the crime in old classrooms. So that’s how he found himself in front of little Michael, all big eyes and cute dimples, and if he wasn’t someone else he would have been won by all that farce, but that’s the point of why Harry is so successful in this job, he could smell it.
It was disgustingly sweet like pomegranate with honey and bitter like wet leaves after a downpour in a cemetery in Autumn. Death magic, and Harry now knew exactly what the circle was for, not simply trying to resurrect another pet like the Aurors thought no, Michael was sucking their soul or at least trying, since animals can’t really sustain a human being. The fact that he even thought it could have worked demonstrated two things: 1) he was an idiot and 2) that soon he would have noticed and would have started on more functioning prey, AKA another person. So really they were lucky that he got cocky and started leaving traces behind, cause if he hadn’t they would have been caught in another Dark Lord. The simple fact that he could even attempt magic of this feature at 15 was indicative of a massive magical core and the fact that he was a natural at Dark magic, even if not so brilliant to understand how ritual circles worked.
Still the little shit was fast that needed to be acknowledged. The moment he moved to tell the Aurors he was the guy, he threw a pinch of Peruvian Powder (really George should stop selling it) and ran for his life towards the exit. While all the others were down on their knees coughing (and really this was the best of the law enforcement?) Harry sprang behind him, slower but still near enough to see him move towards the lake. He sent a curse towards the kid, followed by an Incarcerous, but he avoided them. Then Harry decided fuck them all and sent one of his favourite Parseltounge spells, a little incantation capable of freezing the entire lower body that wasn’t possible to evade and could only be blocked by a strong shield, but he hadn’t noticed how near they were to the water, basically already on the sand, and when Michael fell down, Harry couldn’t slow down in time not to trip on his legs, and the force of the run, plus the hit sent him right into the lake, just a couple of meters in it. No problem he could touch the fond, but as he moved one foot to apprehend the child, something caught his leg and started pulling. Before he could even realize it, he was under the water, with something distinctively dragging him down, his lungs screaming for air and the light upper him dimming.
So that was it, 54 years old, dead by the giant squid of his ex-school, just because he tripped on a baby Dark Wizard. And wasn’t it ironic that after all those years, after Voldemort, the Dursleys, the Horcruxes, the death of all his friends, this was what got him in the end.
Accepting this was it, Harry closed his eyes and as he opened his mouth to get one last breath full of water, his body spasmed and he was sat, gasping and naked in a bathtub.