A/N: Hey guys! I have other stuff on the site under a different name, but I wanted a fresh start, so I created a new account. I'm afraid the plot of this one might get just a tiny confusing, so if you think I should edit and re-clarify things; let me know in a review!
Also, as much as I would LOVE to own Harry Potter… I don't, I only own the plot that I am changing and creating here. Props to JK, she's an amazing writer.
Summary: What happens when Harry doesn't return immediately from the King's Cross Station Plane? What happens to his friends? What happens to the world? With Voldemort in control, and all hope seemingly lost, what will people do?
He saw the mouth move and a flash of green light, and everything was gone.
When Harry awoke, he was lying facedown, and he was perfectly content. He couldn't quite remember why he was here or where here was, but for the moment, he didn't mind; lying there with his cheek against the cool stone floor was a perfectly acceptable thing to do. He moved his head slightly, and his lightning scar brushed the ground. Suddenly, everything that had happened in the past months came rushing back to him. In a moment, he re-felt all the fear, pain, excitement, anguish, anticipation, triumph, and loss he had felt on his long journey.
He sat up slowly, unsure of the condition he would be in. He had just died hadn't he? He stretched out his arms to examine them, and upon deciding that they were fine, he moved on to his chest, then down to his legs. Finally, he inspected his surroundings. The place looked familiar, though it took him a moment to place it. He was in King's Cross Station, or an empty version of it. It didn't quite look the same without the bustling muggles and the occasional wizard making his or her way to platform nine and three quarters.
"Hello?" He called softly, "Is anyone there?" He wasn't really expecting a response, and so the faint echo of own voice of the bare stone walls didn't bother him. He took a few minutes looking around, figuring one didn't have to rush when dead. He ran his fingers down the cool stone walls, counting the platforms one by one (except for one in particular, which he counted in three quarters instead.) He was almost disappointed when the wall between platform nine and ten didn't give way to his touch. He almost thought about it, but decided to move on.
"Funny," he said aloud to no one, "I figured there would be more pain in death."
"Did you wish it to be painful?" The voice behind him made Harry jump. He turned towards it, and instinctively reached for his wand, which wasn't there.
A familiar pair or twinkling blue eyes behind half moon spectacles met him, and his demeanor instantly improved. "Dumbledore." He stated it plainly, less as a question than as a fact. "Where are we? I mean, I know where we are, but…" He trailed off for a moment, "…I suppose it just doesn't seem normal."
Dumbledore paused before answering, "I suppose a better question would be where aren't we? This isn't exactly what you were expecting is it?"
"Well, I suppose I was expecting flames or pearly gates or something of the like." Harry looked around him. "Not that I'm complaining." Something seemed to register in Harry's mind, and he continued, "If you're dead, and you're here; and I'm here… then I'm really…" He didn't finish the thought.
Dumbledore smiled down at him like he had so many other times in his office. "You know you're dead. If you hadn't accepted it, you wouldn't be here." Harry looked confused, but Dumbledore offered no further explanation. "It's like I said before Harry, Nitwit, blubber, oddment, tweak." He smiled as if this was the most natural conversation ever.
Harry couldn't help but smile. Although the words didn't make any more sense than they had in his first year at Hogwarts, the nonsense somehow held comfort for him, perhaps because the old man hadn't changed even in death.
As blue eyes looked into green, there was complete silence, and complete peace. In that one moment, more wisdom passed than in a thousand conversations. The moment passed, and Dumbledore gestured to a pair of plush burgundy chairs that Harry hadn't remembered seeing before. "Why don't we sit?"
Harry sat, and contemplated his position. He was dead, he was pretty sure of that, but somehow his death didn't feel permanent. He didn't feel done. It was silly he supposed, but he felt that somehow, he was supposed to do more.
Dumbledore sat in the chair next to him and smiled the same smile he had since Harry could remember. "Well Harry, I'm proud of you." Harry felt his cheeks flush at those words. Since he didn't have a functional family, he never really heard much praise, and hearing it from a man he had looked up to for the years that he considered his real life felt good.
"So, what now?" It wasn't the most intelligent question, but Harry felt it was the right one. He needed direction, instruction. Dumbledore produced a watch from inside his cloak, and clucked his tongue.
"So much time, so much time." He sighed, and replaced the watch. "Harry, we have a lot to discuss. So many things have happened since my death. Surely you want some explanation?" Harry nodded, and the old man continued, "Having never actually returned from this plane, I don't know how badly the effect of time is, but I know time doesn't pass the same way here."
Harry's eyes widened. "Sir? Did you say return? Am I meant to go back?" His heart flipped in his chest. He may be able to see Ron again! Hermione, Ginny, George, Arthur, Molly, everyone! Then his mind drifted to those he would never see again, and his mood fell. So many people had lost their lives fighting a battle that he had wanted to wage by himself. No one else was supposed to get hurt. His eyes started to shimmer with tears, but he wiped them away, not wanting the man he had looked up to for so long to see him cry again.
"Harry, it's alright to cry. If it wasn't, why would we have tear ducts?" The answer didn't make much logical sense, but Harry accepted it.
Harry took a deep breathe, and looked at Dumbledore, waiting for him to explain.
"You will go back, but not until you understand, and the explanation could take some time."
Meanwhile, back on the Hogwarts grounds, chaos was everywhere. Bodies were in piles, and many who had survived had fled. The fighting was going well, until the news of Harry's death reached everyone. At first, no one believed it, but then Hagrid walked forward with his lifeless body, and non-believer after non-believer came forward to examine his body, which was quickly growing cold. No one detected a breathe nor a heartbeat, and hope after hope was dashed.
Very few voices could be heard above the sobs, as people gave in to fate, but Hermione Granger's voice rang out like a siren. "No! He is not dead! Can't you see? They just want us to give up!" Her voice was cut off as she came into view of the body. The body of her closest friend lay on the ground in front of her, and a cold laugh came from a death eater's lips and she collapsed to the ground sobbing. Her sobs echoed of the castle walls, seemingly magnified by those of her friends, even school enemies, and people she barely knew took up the wail. The boy who lived had died.
A/N: So there's chapter one! I hope you liked it! I hope to have chapter two up soon, maybe even tonight if I finish my English work. Let me know what you think! I am planning on spanning this over many many chapters, so give me criticism if you think it will help!