Harry stood in the all too familiar Kings Cross Station yet again. How he hated this. Knowing everything that would happen. Knowing everything, the pain, the grief, and yet… every time just stood by and let it happen. Let Voldemort kill his loved ones. Let Voldemort rip the world apart. Standing there in Kings Cross station, Harry made a vow; to never let it happen again.
Sighing, Harry unconsciously rubbed the back of his neck and walked over to a small table. Seeing the parchment and the quill, he scrawled '1985' He tucked the parchment into his robes and walked over to Death's office. Peeking his head in, he saw the hooded figure sitting at his desk waiting.
"Chosen your time, have you?"
"Yeah." Almost as an afterthought, he added, "Is, is it possible for me to bring someone back with me? Sir?"
"Who in particular?" If Death actually had a face, Harry would've sworn he heard a smile on his lips.
"Err… Tom?"
"Tom? I'm afraid too say you have to be more specific than that. I must of taken thousands of Tom's."
"Tom Riddle Jr and Gellert Grindelwald."
"This should be entertaining." Death said dryly.
"So, can I?" Harry asked, nervously.
"I just said that, didn't I?" He huffed and said scathing "Master."
"You didn't actually." Harry smirked and added, "Sir."
Death huffed and muttered something along the lines of 'Cheeky brat.' The twat in question just grinned. The hooded figure clicked his fingers and both Voldemort and Grindelwald popped in the study. Voldemort seemed torn between assaulting Harry and asking him what was happening. Grindelwald was watching Voldemort with a big grin on his face.
"Come the niceties must be observed… bow to death, Tom." Harry finally said, reveling in the glory of saying that. Voldemort glared but said nothing, obviously realising Harry was his only chance of ever living again. Death arched an eyebrow -is that possible?- and said:
"I have an opportunity for you three; Tom Riddle, Gellert Grindelwald, Harry Potter."