A/N: Hi. I want to know if anyone likes the idea behind this, and if so, I'll continue.
If there was one thing Grim Reaper Cliff Jones (the almighty, he like to think, but truth be told, Cliff was just a regular family Grim Reaper) did not want to deal with it was the Potter twins.
Hazel Sage and her twin Harry James both had died an extraordinary amount of times compared to the average of one. Nine times, each. eighteen deaths in seventeen years; something few had managed without trying, and no one ever tried. Thank Freyja for that. Each Grim Reaper was responsible for a family, and Cliff had a particularly hard time, but if people tried to die, he would be doomed. Especially if those people were of the terribly annoying wizarding family of the Potter's.
Cliff was even a bit scared to look over each death, as all were not pretty, right down to the first death for the twins when they had been stepped on, and crushed with ribs through hearts, lungs and other internal organs, by their dear Uncle at the extremely young age of fifteen months.
'Those two are nothing but trouble!' Cliff grumbled mentally. 'How can they raise three children so close in age so badly? How is it possible to be able to crush a child that easily? Why can't that oaf watch his step!'
Dudley Vernon Dursley was a monster, son of Vernon Dudley Dursley and Petunia Achillea Dursley. After being spoiled for his entire life, the boy had been horrified to learn that not everyone would obey his every word; in fact, most people thought him to dumb to listen to.
Hazel Potter was extraordinarily dreamy, stick thin, and never spoke out against anything. She had never been spoiled, never been given presents (compared to her cousins at least 35 a birthday) and had never even eaten a decent meal.
The same was said for Harry Potter. Only he was far more outgoing than his twin. He would speak out quite a bit, but never against his relatives; Harry, like his sister, was extraordinarily kind and gentle.
Cliff rubbed his eyes as someone knocked on the door.
"Come in," he called absently, and in stepped the two twins he had never wanted to see less.
"What the Freyja are you doing here!" He screeched, lobbing a crystal ball at Harry and a paper holder at Hazel. "You two must be insane, dying again! If I ever see you in this office again, I will kill you both!"
Cliff continued to rant and throw objects for several more minutes before gaining control of his emotions.
"Sorry."
Hazel waved it off arily with a smile. Harry flicked his wrist and the office was just as it had been when the pair had entered. An amazing display of wandless magic, considering the teen was just that, a teen, even if legally an adult to the WIzarding World.
"Sir, I was wondering if you could tell us what's happening?" Hazel said in her soft voice.
Her twin nodded in agreement.
Cliff took a long, steadying breath. "Okay, Haze, you recently died. For the ninth time, same with your brother. I am your family Grim Reaper Cliff Jones. I'm guessing you want to know how you died each time. Here it is."
Cliff took another lond breath. "When you were left at your aunt's house, that Vernon man stepped on both of you, and considering he weighs as much as a whale, the results were unsurprising if uncompromisingly horrible. You were crushed to death. At seven, after the apparation incident, your Uncle killed you again, this time with a kitchen knife. You both bled to death. At eleven, you, Haze, were killed by the troll while heading to your Common Room, while Quirrel killed Harry personally. At twelve, Harry was killed by the basilisk, and same with you, different days, though. Thirteen was the falling-from-the-sky nonsense. The dementor incident, for the both of you. Fourteen was the dragon, fifteen being the other dementor incident; you both lost your souls, sixteen was by Death Eaters, and finally, seventeen was sacraficing yourselves so Voldemort could die. Well, Harry sacraficed himself and Hazel was just killed."
He whiped sweat off his brow. "Freyja, so many deaths is horrifying. Why can't you die at a ripe old age like normal people." He compained sadly.
By that time the twins were fiercely pale. Like, even paler than their normal porcelain pale.
Harry was a tall, scrawny boy with messy black hair and piercing emerald green eyes. He had typical, high Potter cheekbones and was essentially identical to his father, save for the eyes, those were his mothers; as clear and piercing as his mothers.
Hazel was small and slight, with long, wavy red hair and almond shaped emerald eyes. In every way, Hazel was the spitting image of her mother, right down to the softly arched eyebrows and long red hair, kept in the same style as her mother.
"But why are we here, not in Hades' realm or something? Are we not worthy of him or something?" Harry asked.
Cliff laughed. "Oh, Hades exists alright, but you did not die when you were supposed to at the ripe old age of 135, 136 for Hazy here. But no! You are constantly being killed! You've died once a year for seven years straight now and twice before then! Anyways, all those death deities exist."
Hazel shrugged her slim shoulders. "Okay, but why are we here?"
"Right, you are here because you have one more shot at living to your death-age. I can send you back to the world of the living at any point before you die and after your born to try and save as many lives as possible."
The twins did that creepy glance thing, before Harry nodded decisively. "Alright. July 31st, 12 A.M., right when Hagrid bursts into the hut on the sea, 1991."
Hazel nodded in the same manner. "Perfect time, Sir Jones. We woud like to keep our memories, all of them, thank you very much, and we would like to begin immediately."
"Then follow me, Harzel twins!"
"Ew," Hazel said softly as she followed after the Grim Reaper. "We do not have a couple name. Even Fred and George didn't do that."