Jason was getting really sick of dying. At least this time he died in a cooler way than being beaten to death with a crowbar. Hah, yeah right. Because drowning in blood from an arrow through your lung is such a cool way to die.
So, with his aforementioned deadness, Jason was extremely confused when he woke up…again. He tried to sit up, but his arms and legs were swaddled to his sides. A short inventory of his condition had Jason even more confused. Why was he a toddler?
'De-aging? Re-animation via the Lazarus pit had the by-product of enhanced reflexes, senses, and strength, but the only negative side effect was the "pit madness", characterized by bursts of disproportionate anger and an increase in homicidal intent. Maybe I died and someone didn't bring me back properly? What if-'
Jason's deductions were interrupted by a scream. Toddler instincts took over and Jason began to cry. 'This is so demeaning.'
The woman, who had screamed, was cradling Jason and cooing to him. Jason's wails quieted to hiccuping sobs.
The woman fiddled with a paper of some sort before carrying Jason inside.
"Petunia, dear, what happened?" A large man inquired of the woman.
"She's dead, Vernon. Lily's dead. Those freaks killed my sister and leave me with the whelp." The woman, Petunia, hissed. The sheer rage coming from the woman set Jason's crying instinct off.
"Hush, Sweetheart. Harry, dear. Everything's alright. Auntie Petunia won't let those nasty people hurt you." Petunia crooned. Jason calmed his breathing.
'I swear, if I start crying every time something like this happens, I'm going to kill something.' Jason stewed. 'But why did she call me Harry? Theory one: I've been de-aged-negated. Everyone I have seen or interacted with at this current time acknowledges me as a child with no questions or concessions made for the addition or retraction of memories. Theory two: reincarnation-acceptable. The time gap would be explained by the inability to remember the time I spent as an infant. I have retained most, if not all, of my memories from my past life, but have the body and instincts of my current form. Theory three: body-mind swap-bit of a stretch, but a definite possibility. I have swapped bodies with a toddler-one "Harry"- the toddler's mind is in my body and vice versa. Theory four: botched reanimation-acceptable. A ritual/spell/science experiment/Lazarus pit/some combination thereof brought a flawed version of my toddler self back from the dead. Theory five: time travel-acceptable, but by God I hope not. Sent backwards or forwards within either my personal timeline or the collectivity of time- or both. Theory six: dimension travel-acceptable, but unlikely. Temporal resonance shock-waves opened a breach in space-time sending me careening into an alternate past or future.'
Jason stopped theorizing as a husky toddler walked unsteadily into the room and demanded food. 'If I don't get out of here soon, I'm going to go crazy.'