Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the property of J.k Rowling and Affiliates, Kim Possible is the property of Walt Disney and Affiliates. No Copyright infringement is intended, no money is being made.

A/N: Just something I started writing in my spare time. Just be aware that updates will be sporadic with long dry spells.

A/N: This is something that I have been posting on Archive of Our Own under same name.

Chapter 1

When Harry Potter thought about starting over, he had to admit that the last thing he would have chosen was to go back to school, but he had long come to the conclusion that even second chances at happiness still carried similar obligations that were in the first chances, in this case as with his first time around, not much in the way of any choices in regards to how his chances played out.

Harry had lived a fairly short life after he had died, came back and taken Voldemort out, then died again two years later crossing the street from a muggle bar and got hit by a bus. The Knight Bus to be exact, though he supposed he could take some of the blame in that quarter as he was soused out of his gills and wearing his invisibility cloak at the time.

Death had been there this time to greet him at the train station manifestation, an entity that pulled Harry's notion of what death would look like if he'd had a form, which in this case happened to be a dapper gentleman in a black cape and tux, with a top hat on, his fault he supposed since the last thing he had seen before he had died was "Something Wicked This Way Comes."

Death had then given him without preamble the whole Master of Death spiel, which included such clarifications as he couldn't exactly order the entity around, and he was unfortunately, unable to die.

Being told he was immortal and going to watch his friends grow old and die around him while he remained young and youthful was not how he wanted to spend his eternity, and he suspected that the Wizarding World would not be pleased to have an immortal in their midst, likely leading him to spend his long existence within the clutches of the Unspeakables, likely only allowed to see the light of the sun when another Dark Lord popped out of the wood work.

Death was a reasonable chap, so he decided to give Harry a choice.

He could return to that entire headache, or he could leave the reality he knew all behind, his friends, his job his pseudo family, and start a new life in a new world, though under Death's rules of course.

Harry had thought long and hard over his options, which wasn't much really.

An unknown future in an unknown reality versus a known future in which his chances of happiness were slim to none.

Sure, he had been dating Ginny off and on, but after the war, Harry had come to realize that he was not so much in love with Ginny as in love with the idea of officially being a part of a family he had long wanted. In fact, his drinking the night of his demise was from a heated argument he had had with Ginny over that very fact, that the two of them couldn't be together because when he looked at her it was not how she wanted him to.

The two of them had a row over the fact that he barely did anything with her physically, and Harry had let slip his feelings on the matter. He had been kicked out of the Burrow afterwards by a hurt Ginny and an enraged Ron for hurting said sister's feelings and leading her on. He had hit a bar, gotten splendidly drunk…and well the rest was history.

Sure he cared about his friends, even Ron who would eventually cool off, but he thought about all the earlier things that had Death mentioned and what it met versus his friends being hurt over his "death," he would certainly miss them dearly but was it worth it to go back to all that he would face?

If he was going to be honest with himself, and being dead did have a way of cutting through all the personal bullshit, he could say without pause that years of friendship that would get distant with time, over an eternity of being hounded by wizards was not what he wanted.

At Harry's agreement to its deal, Death had then laid out the rules.

He could not die in this new world, no matter what happened. If he found himself in a situation where it would lead to death, he would just pop back into existence in the closest space he had been that wasn't immediately deadly, and harry be sent back in a new body, though he didn't specify what new body he should be expecting, which made Harry super wary.

That was it, and then things went fuzzy.

Ooo ooo ooo

Harry regained his bearings in an empty modest two story house in what would become his new home in a town he would learn was called Middleton.

To Harry's ire, he had woken in his own body, though one look at the mirror and the lost inches in height and a hair style harry recognized from his fifth year (his vain attempt at growing his hair longer to control the unruly mess)…well, he supposed either Death had a sick sense of humour, or he was trying to give Harry another chance to enjoy his teenage golden years without someone hounding for his blood.

He was also as naked as the day he was born, which was fitting given the fact that he had technically been reborn into this new world, which was annoying as hell.

Death had helpfully left him a packet of legal papers, everything from the deed to the house and property, to the death certificate of his parents in this world, to his emancipation papers and so on.

Fortunately for Harry Death had spotted him the equivalent amount of cash he'd had from his previous life into a bank account under his name.

Though Death had not left him anything else, like cloths, which would be handy for going to the bank with.

He had wearily surveyed the nice suburb he found himself in through the window, which was not as bad or rigidly uniformed as Privet Dr. thankfully, seeing that it was late at night (of course he would be reborn in the dead of night, Death had a flare for the dramatic).

Harry took advantage of the darkness and had managed to acquire himself a pair of brown slacks and a shirt that said "My Dad is Rocket Man" from a neglected cloths line in a neighbour's backyard, and as soon as the sun rose, he made his way to the closest shopping center.