Disclaimer: Nope don't own the Harry Potter series nor do I make any money from this fanfic but I do have a couple cans of beans downstairs if you're interested.

Bad Author Notes: Hey my Muse liked me long enough to write this. HURRAH!


Harry looked around the nothing-ness in confusion.

"Mr. Potter," a voice called out from someplace behind Harry.

Harry spun around, his wand in his hand, to find a balding slightly pudgy man walking towards him from the nothing-ness.

"I'm Henry from the Accounting department," the man stated as he came to a stop a few feet from Harry; his hand held out in a greeting.

"Accounting department?" Harry's confusion was evident in his voice as he ignored the man's hand.

"Oh dear, has anyone explained what is going on?" Henry asked. "I mean someone should have. I'm not early. Of course, they could simply be running late."

"What is going on?" Harry stated, stressing each word.

Henry took a deep breath and let it out. His shoulders slumped slightly before saying, "You died, Mr. Potter. This is the here-after and I'm here to sort your life so you can go on."

"I died?" Harry repeated back. "I was arresting Johnny Smuckers. He's harmless. He's just a small time crock who deals with magically enhanced muggle items. I have no problem with that expect that he was selling the items to Muggles. Television that don't require any power to run would get the magically community noticed."

"Oh, I completely agree that such a matter would be very bad for the world in general," Henry replied. "But Mr. Smuckers did kill you… in a roundabout way."

"In a roundabout way? How… how did I die?" Harry asked.

"Well… Mr. Smuckers recently enhanced a microwave oven… ummm… you do know what a microwave oven is?" Henry asked.

Harry nodded. "I was Muggle raised so yes I know what a microwave oven is."

"Oh good, so many magical people don't know what it is or really anything about the rest of the world," Henry state. "To make a long story short, Mr. Smuckers wanted beans on toast and since microwave oven heat things quickly… he put the unopen can of beans in the microwave oven."

Harry groaned; his hand reached for his head as if to ward off a headache. "It exploded."

Henry nodded his head. "The can and the microwave oven, that's what killed you."

Harry snorted before he started to chuckle. "Voldemort. Death Eaters. Dementors. Numerous baddies of different types and races… and it was a can of beans that killed me."

Henry just nodded his head as he let Harry absorb the truth about his death.

After a few minutes, Harry took a deep breath and let it out. "So, now what?"

"Now we review your options," Henry replied.

"You mean Heaven or Hell," Harry stated.

"That is one option. In truth you have 3 options," Henry explained. "The first is to go on to your next destination."

"I.E Heaven or more likely Hell since I'm pretty sure I broke more than a few commandants," Harry stated. "The Dursleys' liked to make sure that I knew that was going to Hell since I was a wizard. Not that they were very good Christian either."

"Ah yes, that's one mess that I would rather not get into. Let's just say that rule doesn't apply the way most people think it does," Henry stated. "So the Abrahamic's Heaven and Hell are still open to you."

"Abrahamic?" Harry interrupted. "And why would I want to go to Hell?"

"the religions that originated from Abraham or to put it simply Judaism, Christian and Islam," Henry stated. "As for Hell… well there two Hells; the first is the place where unredeemable people go and then there is the other Hell, which most people say is for Lawyers and Politicians. They like to debate… a lot. They debate things like if the sky is blue and if so what shade of blue. Those who don't like to debate, call it Hell. Those who do thinks it's Heaven."

"So my choice is Heaven or Lawyer's Hell," Harry stated.

"Or the Summerland. Valhalla. Aaru. Elysium or any of the other final resting places," Henry stated. "I'm more than willing to help you figure out which place you want to go. Or you can go with your second option."

"Second option?" Harry asked cautiously.

"You undie," Henry replied. "You go back to the moment you dies; we make some changes and you're injured instead of dying. The worse thing you'll have is a bad headache and you'll think of all this is as a really odd dream."

"Go back to my life," Harry whispered thoughtfully. "Right… ummm…" Harry started pacing as he thought about his options. Suddenly he stopped and turned to Henry. "What about the Deathly Hallows? What part do they play in all of this?"

"They don't," Henry said. "I know you're thinking about the story, how possessing the three items make you the Master of Death, but it doesn't. It means you've mastered Death's lesson."

"Mastered Death's lessons?" Harry asked.

"Think about the story. The first brother wanted power and he had it until someone took it from him. The second brother never wanted to lose someone he loved to Death and by keeping them from going to their next destination, he tortured not only his loved ones but himself as well. And the last brother hid from Death until he was ready to accept that his end had come," Henry explained.

"Power is fleeting. Never hold onto the past so tightly that you forgot to live. And Death can wait," Harry stated.

Henry snorted. "Death might disagree with you on the last one but you fight for life until you're ready to accept death."

Harry nodded his head. "So what's option 3?"

"What?"

"You said I had 3 options. First option was to go forward to my next destination. Second was to undie and go back to my life. What's the third option?" Harry asked.

"Well… most people don't even consider the third option; they don't like some of the things it entails. Basically it's to restart your life," Henry answered.

"To relive my life again or start a life again as someone else?" Harry asked.

"To relive your life again. Most people don't go for this option because they don't want to go through puberty. I guess all the issues with hormones, acne, all the changes going on, left a bad taste in their mouth," Henry stated.

"Those were the easy parts in my life," Harry said with a snort.

"I can't deny you that," Henry said with a shake of his head. "You never really had a chance to worry about your face looking like a pepperoni pizza or your voice breaking at the wrong time."

Harry licked his lips. "If I relived my life... can I make changes in it?"

Henry nodded his head. "Of course you can. It would be rather pointless to relive your life if you couldn't change things, unless you're a sadomasochist."

"No," Harry said quickly with a shake of his head. "I've had enough pain in my life. I don't need it in the bedroom either."

"We had one person who was. He was rather disappointed that he couldn't relive his life exactly as he experienced," Henry admitted. "He eventual moved on after a bit of complaining."

"If I went back… when would I go back? Would I have to be reborn or can I pick an age?" Harry asked. "And what would I remember? My training, my skills… what I've learned?"

"Well… you would, of course, lose your muscle memory and you would have to regrow into some skills as your magical core regrows but you won't lose anything you've learned before going back to whatever age you choose. As for when you return to your life... the boss prefers that you return to your life before puberty," Henry explained.

Harry snorted. "Probably as a means to keep most people from taking that option."

Henry smiled in agreement. "So you can choose from any moment from your birth until you hit puberty."

"July 31, 1990," Harry stated firmly.

Henry blinked a couple of times before saying, "July 31, 1990?"

"That's when I want to be back to," Harry replied. "It'll give me a year to get everything set up for when the Wizarding World comes to retrieve me."

"What are you planning on doing?" Henry asked.

"Well, for one thing I won't let that bitch and her daughter feed me a love potion and have me marry her daughter," Harry growled.

Henry's eyes widen in shock over Harry's words.

"Oh and it gets worst from there. The little bitch would whore around on me," Harry snapped. "The children she bore… not one of them is mine. Because of the potion she continued to feed me after we were married, I had to forgive her and blood adopt the children so everyone would believe that they were mine. And don't get me started on Granger."

"Granger? I thought she was your friend," Henry blurted out.

"Oh she was… a long time ago. Maybe first and second year before that bastard got his hooks in her. Now she's more interesting in gaining more knowledge and social manipulation," Harry explained.

"Social manipulation?"

Harry snorted. "It's the old bait and switch but played in the political field than simple con on the street. People are talking about Muggle-born rights so bring up the abuse of house elves. People are concern about the abuse of house elves so bring up werewolves right. And so on and so on. In the end, it's the same old stuff. Nothing changes," Harry stated.

"But... but she's a Muggle-born. Why won't she want to push for the rights for Muggle-born?" Henry stammered.

"Dumbledore," Harry answered. "The old bastard has this grand scheme that she swallowed hooked, line and sinker. She's now following his notes to the tee."

"Oh dear. We're going to have review her records. They are not right," Henry mumbled to himself.

"Why bother?" Harry asked. "I plan on completely derailing Dumbledore's plans. Granger will just be another Muggle-born being duped into paying a large tuition for a third rate education she will get a mediocre job and if she wants to advance, she will have to try disillusioning her boss from wanting to play hide the salami."

"Ohhh," Henry replied as his mind undoubtly tried to reboot. "Ummm... the changes? How do you plan to do whatever?"

"Goblins are nasty little buggers who can't be trusted unless there is money involved and by money, I mean someone paying them in galleons. Anything else and they'll try to steal you blind while stabbing you in the back," Harry stated. "Half up front and half on delivery."

Henry blinked a couple times. "You... you're planning on have the Goblins gather the horcruxes so you can destroy them."

"Gather them, yes. Destroy them, no," Harry smirked.

"What!" Henry shouted in shock.

An evil smile crept upon Harry's face. "In my years as an Auror I made a number of contacts across the global and I plan to put them to good and profitable use."

"Profitable?" Henry echoed back.

"There are some priests and priestesses in Haiti and New Orleans and a few in the darkest places of Africa, who would pay a great deal for a horcrux," Harry explained. "I know one priest who claims that they make excellent night lights."

"But someone might steal them from them and free Riddle," Henry pointed out.

Harry snorted. "These people who could make Tommy-boy piss his pants if they glanced in his direction. If anyone is that stupid to try, I'm sure they well enjoy the rest of their life as a garden slug."

"What about the piece of his soul that you carry?" Henry asked. "If you go back… you'll have it again."

Harry snorted. "Who do you think taught me how to deal with horcruxes if I ever ran across them again. It's a pretty easy spell to drain his magic from his soul and kick him out of my head."

"Ummm. What about…"

"Is there someone who doesn't want me to go back in time and make my life better?" Harry interrupted.

"Not exactly," Henry admitted. "The Fates and Destiny have been fighting for years about the path your life should take. I'm just afraid of how they'll react when they find out."

Harry cocked his head sideways as he stared at Henry. "If The Fates and Destiny had been guys I would have advised you to get them drunk off their asses and then hand them over to a sorority with orders for the sorority sisters to film everything for future blackmail. Since they're female, you'll have to go with the girls' version of that which is sending them to a spa and while there they'll get relaxed and a little tippy because ladies don't get drunk and flirt with the pool boy. Of course if they just happen to get knocked up by the pool boy then it's their husband's fault because he's always at work trying to earn enough money to support the family while she spends it like a was going out of style." Harry stated before taking a deep calming breath. "At least that's what Ginny kept doing when things became too stressful for her."

"I'll take that under advisement," Henry commented. "So… July 31, 1990, did you say?"

Harry just smiled.


Ten year old Harry Potter paused as he walked towards the kitchen on #4 Privet Drive. Slowly he looked around the room as a smile grew on his face.

"And don't you dare burn the bacon. You know how sensitive my poor Dudley's stomach is," Petunia screeched.

"Of course, Aunt Petunia," Harry replied as he turned around the face the woman, while letting his magic start the breakfast.

Petunia's eyes grow wide as she inhaled sharply at the sight of her pans and dishes moving on their own.

"Tell me, Aunt Petunia, how would you like to be rid of me for ever and ever and ever…"

The End