He's thirty-two, an unspeakable, and tired. Unbelievably tired.
Death's hand curled over his shoulder, the entity's scythe resting comfortably on his other shoulder. It's comforting in a way, comfortable to only one who has had Death over their shoulder since birth.
"Sir?"
He ignores the young man (same age, a voice in his head reminds him, maybe his conscious) hanging back by the door, focused solely on the archway Sirius had fallen through all those years ago.
It's quiet for a moment before there's the sound of boulders crashing into each other, of Autumn leaves being stepped on, the sound of a star dying. Your choice master, I'll be with you whatever you choose.
His eyes darken, killing curse green turning into a green so dark it's almost black. He closes his eyes for a moment, hand reaching back to tug at the cloak around his shoulders to make sure its there, to the ring on his finger, a red jewel, shrunken to fit, and to the wand holster on his wrist.
Opening his eyes, head tilting as he reads the air around the Veil, he reaches out watching, silent as little purple sparks float out and land on his fingers. He takes a step, and another, his black dragon hide boots silent on the stone floor. A scream echoes around him, the man in the doorway scared out of his wits as he takes a step through the veil, his world falling dark as he's fully encompassed in the purple that is the hallway between Death's world and the one he'd just left.
"He's beautiful Lady Potter!"
He regains conscious, slow as a snail. Nothing registers until he's in the arms of a black-haired woman, a beautiful smile aimed at him. He blinks, trying to get used to the bright light from the hospital room he's in, trying to get a look at the voice from behind him.
"What should we name him Dorea?"
"Hm… Why don't we let James choose? Would you like that sweetheart, to name your new baby brother?"
James. Is this?
The finger ghosting against his cheek is bone, the face of Death staring at him from the other side of the hospital bed that he can see. Rocks are falling, fire engulfing trees, a tidal wave crashing over a ship. Yes, Master, you were reborn as your fathers younger brother.
"Reawwy Mama? I cans name him?"
Harry wants to see, to see how old his father -no, brother- is, to see what he looks like so young.
"Of course love. Would you like to see him before you name him?"
His mom, Dorea, lets out a tinkling laugh and he can only assume James had done something cute.
Next thing he knows, a head of wild brown hair and brown eyes are watching him from above. He cant be older than two and he's absolutely smitten with how adorable he is. Something in his chest tightens though, an image of a blue-haired little boy giggling away as he's chased by a little black dog -Death-. The thought is quickly pushed aside less the bloody images of his four-year-old son, torn apart like some freak that had to be taken care of, crosses his mind.
"He's cute Mama!"
Harry can only gaze in wonder as James reaches out to boop his nose.
"Hawwy! His name is Hawwy!"
Harry smiles up at his now older brother, willing his body to work, and reaches out a hand. James looks at him, curious little eyes following the movement before trying to move a little closer, wiggling in his father's arms, and offering up his own hand to the newborn baby.
Harry wraps his hand around James', only encompassing two fingers, but it elicits cute little giggles from James and a happy smile.
"Look Charlus, they're already getting along marvelously."
Charlus leans over, James being lowered a bit more as Charlus kisses Dorea. "I love you."
"I love you too, Dear."