Summary - Having lived their lives to the fullest, defeating evil dark lords, protecting peace and harmony and all the rest of it, Harry and Ron expected to have a peaceful afterlife. The last thing they expected was to be saddled with the protection of a two year old Harry Potter in another world, not to mention the job of aiding said infant in the vanquishment of a certain dark lord...

Disclaimer – I most definitely don't own Harry Potter, it is a series owned by the very gifted J. K. Rowling. If I had owned it, certain instances in the books would not have occurred, particularly the portrayal of Draco Malfoy as a spineless coward. Suffice to say that I'm just… messing around with the characters for my own amusement. Insert evil laughter…

Warnings – Definite slash and het in the future, though not immediately. Will most likely NOT be explicit. Expect much swearing on Ron's part. Follows canon. Also, the slash isn't going to be of the RonHarry variety. You have been warned.

Double quotations indicate speech, single quotations indicate thoughts.

So… The Afterlife looks like King's Cross?

-- Random individual worried for their sanity.

The Menders

Prologue

Dark. Dark. So very, very dark. No light. Can't breathe. No one there. Alone.

And then, not.

There was someone poking at his shoulder. He really wanted to snap at them, or get someone to make the kid go away. Honestly, he was over 100 years old; didn't anyone teach kids to respect their elders these days? It was only when he actually turned to growl at the obnoxious youngster that he noticed that there was something Very Wrong about the situation.

For one, he had mostly lost his sense of feeling in that arm. It was as good as paralysed after a rather nasty cutting curse had been shot at his shoulder back when he was around 55.

For another, he knew for a fact that none of Ron's kids looked so much like their father. Weasley or not, none of them had hair that was so close to fiery-red. The only person he'd met with hair that shade was Ron himself. And, as mentioned before, there was something Very Wrong with the situation. Mostly because Ron hadn't had red hair in a very, very, very long time.

"Ron…?" he mumbled incredulously. The kid had the audacity to grin. Again, the grin was much too similar to his long time best friend's for comfort.

He was about to comment about this when he noticed something odd yet again. He cleared his throat experimentally. Strange. His voice seemed a lot stronger than it was yesterday…

He looked up at the kid-who-was-Ron-yet-not, wanting some kind of explanation. The kid gave him an obnoxiously happy grin yet again, and tugged at his hand, trying to make him stand. He was about to tell him off, when he found his body moving upwards as smoothly as it did when he was 20. He could only stand stock-still in shock.

When he was able to get himself to move, he slowly held up his hands, staring at them in wonder. Firm. Strong. The skin was unblemished, and only slightly tanned with no discolouration. Not the hands of a man who was over 100.

He automatically turned back to the kid-who-was-Ron-yet-not, staring at him with an odd mix of awe and suspicion. The kid had the audacity to burst out laughing.

"God, Harry! Get over yourself already, and say something!"

Harry blinked, and everything finally set in.

"Ron! What the hell is going on?!! You don't look a day older than 21! I don't seem much older than that either! The last I remember-" voice abruptly dwindling away, he frowned in confusion. Catching sight of his expression, the kid-who-was- ahem. Catching sight of his expression, Ron sighed.

"You too, huh?" he murmured, his apparent amusement finally fading. Harry looked up at him in surprise.

"You can't remember either?" he asked desperately. To be honest, the last he actually remembered was taking a taxi along with the red haired man to visit his daughter's home. Getting older had made him only that much more wary of magical forms of transport, and his friend had been willing to humour an idiosyncrasy that he was long familiar with. Then, all of a sudden, here he was. Waking up in some odd room filled with comfortable velvet covered armchairs and sofas. The chairs and sofas themselves were done in black velvet, while the walls were a comforting shade of cream. There was a framed painting on one of the walls, depicting the edge of a lake filled with water lilies. The description and comfort levels notwithstanding, he had never set foot in the place in his entire life. Despite his age, he did tend to have a rather good memory.

Ron nodded tiredly, before inclining his head towards an open archway that Harry had somehow missed in his previous perusal of the room. Silently agreeing, Harry headed towards the archway, hoping that their questions as to their location would be answered on the other side, when he stopped short by a woman walking into the room.

She was shorter than both of them, and looked almost frail and wispy in comparison to all the women he had known in his lifetime. Large, deep, dark eyes framed by long lashes and feathery black strands of hair that touched her collarbone. Her pale, petite figure was clothed in a formal, high collared dress, and she stood primly in a pair of modestly heeled shoes. He was partially inclined to bat her aside before continuing out the archway, but something in her eyes made him pause.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you in person, Mr. Potter. Mr. Weasley. I am one of the Masters here, and I am glad that both of you are finally awake."

Both men stiffened, Harry backing away from the woman and unconsciously reaching for a wand that he somehow knew wouldn't be there. Hearing a soft curse from Ron, he knew that his feeling had been proven true.

"Who are you? Where are we, and how in the world do we look this young again?" he asked carefully, eying her. Clasping her hands demurely, the woman treated them to a polite, if clandestine, smile.

"That will be explained to you shortly. I would continue the conversation here, if it weren't for the fact that both of you would surely discount me."

Ron snorted beside him, tilting his head to the side and to give her a smile that would have been charming if it weren't for the derisive laughter hidden behind it.

"Sure, lady. We'd likely 'discount' whatever you said wherever the fuck you take us. Give an answer. It's not like either of us have anything to loose in this situation."

"True. So, I don't see either of you loosing anything by humouring a request of mine to follow me. All I ask is that we step out of this room. You were planning on doing this yourselves, if I am not mistaken?"

Ron's smile was all teeth now. Harry cleared his throat softly, and put a quelling hand on his friend's arm. Ron shot him a dark, searching look, before releasing an explosive sigh.

"Fine, whatever. Move."

The woman smiled just as politely as before, and elegantly spun around to walk out the archway. Obviously confident that both men would come after her. Trying not to give in to his irritation, Harry pulled back his hand and went after her, closely followed by Ron. That is, until he came to a sudden stop outside. So sudden that Ron collided into his back.

"Harry, what the bloody hell…?" he grumbled irately, pulling back to stare at him questioningly, but Harry was too busy staring around himself in shock and no little horror. He knew this place. Of course he did. There was no way that he could ever forget the sparkling clean white walls and pillars, nor the large glass dome that was high above. Though he had been more concerned with matters much more important than taking in the surroundings the last time he had been here, he did still recognise it.

"My God," he mumbled, his eyes automatically searching for the woman, the self-proclaimed master of the place where they had found themselves. And, there she was, calmly standing by one of the pillars a little ahead, still smiling as politely as before. There was a little more feeling in the smile this time around, though the nature of the feeling still unrecognisable. Ron made a confused sound beside him.

"My God what?" he asked, frowning down at the green eyed 'Dark Lord Vanquisher', as he had come to be named. Said green eyes swung around to meet his own, and the confused mess of sheer disbelief and surprise in them was enough to worry him.

"Harry-" he started, before getting interrupted.

"Ron, this- this is…" he broke off to lock gazes with the woman again. She simply inclined her head, obviously agreeing with whatever conclusions Harry had come to.

"What is 'this'? You know this place?"

The man gave a mirthless snort.

"I wish I didn't. We're dead."

Ron blinked. He stared at his friend some more.

"…Dead."

"Yes."

"… I realise we'll be as good as dead once someone figures out we're missing and actually does something about it, but-"

He was cut off again by a loud groan.

"No, Ron. When I say dead, I mean dead. We're dead. Kaput. Nada. Not alive anymore."

The redhead couldn't help but stare in bemusement and rising alarm at the finality in the brunet's words. He wasn't questioning his theory to any extent. It wasn't a joke, the man definitely believed what he was saying.

"Excuse me? Just like that? You expect me to believe we're dead just because this woman nods and you say so?"

Harry sighed tiredly, and turned his gaze back to stare at the Station. There was a lot more bustle than the last time, when the place had been completely empty save for himself, Dumbledore and the squalling child that had been a remnant of the soul fragment within him. He could actually see more platforms both close at hand and in the distance, filled with trains coming in and going out. The woman chose this moment to say something.

"He is not lying, Mr. Weasley. Your friend has been here once before."

Ron choked, staring at the man who was awkwardly avoiding his gaze.

"Wait. All right, let's say that I actually believe this cock and bull story. If I do, when the hell were you dead enough to actually land up here? Wherever here is?" he demanded, pointedly ignoring the dark eyed woman beside them. Harry sighed.

"It's a long story, Ron. I tell you everything later, I don't think we have the time for it now." He turned back to stare at the woman expectantly. Holding back his irritation at being ignored, Ron turned towards her as well. Surprise, surprise. She smiled. Again.

'That smile is beginning to get bloody infuriating.'

"Well, to clarify the conclusions that both of you have come to, yes. Both of you have crossed over to the afterlife. Or, at least, a place that exists between life and the afterlife. As to why you are here, rather than on a train heading to Heaven…"

"Whoa, hold up! You mean… heaven exists?" asked Ron curiously. Having known him for so long, Harry had to roll his eyes at the hidden glee in that statement.

The woman's smile didn't change at all. In fact, she actually seemed amused.

"Yes, Mr. Weasley. May be not exactly what is described by those who number among the living, but something quite similar to it. But, before we get ahead of ourselves, you won't be heading anywhere near that train."

Both men could only stare at her.

"Wait, what? Train?" Repeated Ron. Pointedly ignoring that statement, Harry quickly latched on to what the woman wasn't saying.

"We're not going to heaven? You don't mean to say that you're-" his eyes were slowly widening in shock and no little fury. Master of the Station or not, no way in hell were they going to agree to being sent to, ah… Hell. Overlooking the pun. But, they'd honestly been through enough pain and torture keeping the Magical World safe from disharmony and rising dark lords. He had faced far too many for comfort in his relatively short lifespan. And after all that, to learn…

"Oh no, Mr. Potter. You won't be going anywhere near that train. No, the two of you aren't going to be sent to either heaven or hell. You see, we have a job for you." She said easily. That polite smile wasn't so much a smile now as a smirk.

Ron stiffened, as did Harry.

"Job?" Ron repeated incredulously. "You have a job for us? Merlin, woman! We're dead! We've gone through enough without you telling us that we need to do more!"

The Stationmaster shrugged almost regally, tucking her hands behind her. Regarding both the men who were slowly beginning to give in to their rage, she gracefully turned away to watch the various platforms that were spread out before her.

"I'm afraid that you have no choice in this matter, Mr. Weasley. I mentioned that you wouldn't be going anywhere near either of the trains that take souls to the true afterlife. Neither the one to heaven, nor the one going to hell. This holds good only if you complete the task that those controlling this Station and the Higher Powers have assigned to the two of you."

Harry scowled.

"Surely you realise that all that Ron and I have done in our lives has always been for the good of everyone. As much as I hate the title, I wasn't named a 'Dark Lord Vanquisher' because I went around committing as many dark rituals and acts as I possibly could."

"Be that as it may, Mr. Potter. But, in the process of gaining that title, both of you have committed enough sins to give you a pass on the less than favourable train. The only reason why you weren't directly placed on it is because all that you have done has ever been for the good of those around you. You have been given… a second chance, as it were. Your unique position grants you many more such chances, as long as you balance the sins that you may have unconsciously or consciously committed."

Both the men could only gape in shock. After all, it wasn't everyday that you were told that all the good that you had done in your life wasn't nearly enough because the side effects of gaining that good were less than attractive.

"Well, you should both be pleased to learn that the very first… job will be more than sufficient to get you on the train to heaven, as long as you complete it according to our wishes. You see, we require you to aid in the, shall we say, removal of a certain dark lord that both of you will be quite familiar with."

The confused silence in answer to that statement made her sigh.

"We will be sending you to a universe in which Harry Potter is destined to die at the age of two while in the care of his relatives. We require you to prevent his death in any way possible, along with aiding him as much as you can in the removal of the dark lord of his universe."

Harry snorted.

"Please tell me that's a joke. You want us to go to some parallel universe, save a two year old version of me from certain death and then help said infant in vanquishing another version of Voldemort?" he demanded, glaring at her back. The woman looked over her shoulder to grace them with a smirk.

"Not at all. You summed it up quite well, Mr. Potter. That's exactly what we require you to do. Keep in mind that it is this parallel version of you who must vanquish his dark lord. You can do no more than aid him. Use whatever method you must, just ensure that you complete the job satisfactorily."

Turning back to face them completely, she tilted her head in a parody of innocence.

"Well, now that this matter has been discussed and cleared, you had best be on your way. You needn't take a train; an arrangement has already been made to get you till where you need to go."

Ron's eyes widened.

"Hey, wait just a god damned-!"

He was cut off by the ground suddenly lurching beneath their feet. The station was suddenly filled with a strange white mist, and everything seemed to be collapsing in on them. Harry yelped, and hastily flung out an arm to catch hold of his shoulder even as the ground seemed to break apart and come upwards to meet them head on. The last thing they saw was the ever present smile on the woman's face, before everything went black.

Well, there you have the prologue! Hope you enjoyed reading it. I honestly don't know what possessed me to start writing this during my Final exams, but… The plot bunnies! They conspired against me! lol.... At any rate, please review. I thrive on feedback!!! REVIEW.