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In a way, the last few months had been troubled. The great Daniel Richards had passed away, at seventy seven, having been the victim of a heart attack. The veteran had passed away in his sleep. But before he had gone, he had endeavored and succeeded to turn Harry into a fine human being, one who was knowledgeable and intelligent, a literary warrior of his own caliber. And Harry liked to think that the old man had succeeded. It was sad, but it was a reality that was he would have to deal with. Death was the one thing that would be a constant in his life, and the sooner he began to deal with it the better.

But the one thing that Harry was quite amused at was the fact that Richards had given Harry a place in his will. While his son had gotten the cash, and the house, Harry had gotten most of the books, most of the war memorabilia, and a couple of Star Wars costumes, in Harry's size. Stormtrooper armor can be easily modified into battle armor when you have quite the knowledge of seals; and lots and lots of paint. It was also easier to pay your respects, with nobody to grumble at your presence at a funeral when you're dressed up as Darth Vader. He was simply dismissed as one of the old mans odd acquaintances. Harry was not inclined to hide there of all places. Besides, in its own way, this was more fun than messing with peoples heads with illusions.

http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5846162/6/