A/N: I'm looking for a BETA reader

Summary: Dying was the easy part, Harry decided. It was being brought back to life only to find out his parents were alive and that he was the obnoxious brother of the boy-who-lived that was the problem. Death couldn't be more complicated.

Background: Follows the series up until seventh year. The only difference was that Voldemort kept a tight hold on Nagini so the snake wasn't killed until Harry had killed it. (Yes this means he had dated Ginny UGH- it doesn't matter how random JK made their relationship she still made it so it's cannon)

Warnings: None so far

Pairings: Undecided as of now. But will either be SLASH or Nothing. I don't right Het unless it's a pairing that I find inspiring. No, Harry Potter Het pairings are the least bit inspiring or imaginative.

Disclaimer: I don't own nor do I ever plan to gain profits from Harry Potter or anything pertaining to it through this fanfiction. And I thank JK ever day for creating such a unique and truly inspiring world as the Harry Potter one!

Death Defying

By

Shaderider16

Chapter One

It was almost like swimming in an ocean of darkness. Only he couldn't feel his body. What he could feel was his mind rising from the black currents and he knew he was awakening. He struggled against the temptation to sink once more back into his mind, knowing that if he didn't he would drown.

Harry's eyelids slowly blinked open, feeling too heavy. They snapped shut again and he squeezed them tight in pain. He didn't know how long he had been unconscious but the bright flare of light burned his irises.

He fought back a moan, not knowing why. Where was he? What had happened to him?

He remembered only the darkness, and then pain.

That was right, he had died.

Surprisingly, he felt content. Harry hadn't feared death in months. Hours of dejected wonderings, contemplating the meaning of his existence and the way he would soon die had led him to that moment.

There was no denying that fact now. It hadn't mattered how many strategies they had planned. They were losing. Ron, in a last ditch effort to save his sister and older brother, Bill, his only remaining siblings, had concocted a crazed plan to draw Voldemort out along with his snake. It had worked, but at the cost of the red head's life.

Harry could not even imagined what Hermione was going through. Watching her boyfriend die. Could she ever be happy now, knowing He too had died?

Harry had lunged for the snake, firmly grasping its head between his large calloused fingers and wandlessly casting a severing charm, killing it instantly. Voldemort had raged before going in for the kill. He had motioned with his wand a spell, but Harry had been faster as he blasted a hole through the Dark Lord's chest.

After that Harry only remembered a green light illuminating from the Dark Lord's wand before he had fallen prey to the darkness. Harry smiled as he realized that Voldemort had made one very big mistake- he killed his only surviving horcrux. He was sure the bastard was dead.

And now, he was here, somewhere far too bright for his sensitive eyes.

Blinking slowly this time, Harry let his eyes focus, squinting against the light until his vision cleared and the pain receded.

Dead, it was such a permanent word. So bold, Harry thought. He gazed up at a white ceiling taking in what looked to be paint splotches that randomly placed on it. There were no moldings on the corners as far as he could tell, which meant he was not in the hospital wing.

The next thing Harry realized was that he was comfortable, and oddly enough warm. An olive green blanket was covering his person, and he was situated on a large bed. The pillow he rested his head upon was entirely too soft and fluffed.

He grew tired of his exploration and closed his eyes again.

Harry was just about to relax into the first stages of sleep when he heard the large white door creak open. His muscles tensed, though he knew it would do him no good. The sound of metal clanking against metal helped him to follow behind closed eyes the steps of the newest intruder. They stopped just beside his bed and he took notice to the soft humming the person was giving, making it seem like they were inspecting something and finding it interesting. He felt a shift and the sound of metal being twisted. Harry assumed the person was taking the lid off of some sort of potion for the next second he could smell what he knew to be sustaining potion wafting through the air.

A sustaining potion helped the drinker remain in relatively good health for a period of seven hours before whatever injury was acquired overcame them. It was potion everyone in the Order had carried with them, and knew how to make blindfolded.

He felt fingers dance lightly over his brow. They slid through his hair and he could feel his head being gently cradled by whoever was holding him. A sob broke out and Harry could take no more. He opened his eyes and he wished his body could move because the eyes that met his were so shockingly similar he thought for a moment he was staring at his twin.

The eyes widened considerably and Harry was afraid the eyeballs would soon pop out of the pockets if they didn't stop getting wider.

The next thing Harry knew he had a crying and sobbing mass of flesh squeezing the life out of him. Between the choked sobs, and blathering nonsense he could here cries of distress. It almost sounded like the person had been screaming 'James'. He wasn't sure though, he couldn't even look down to determine who his attacker was as his eyes had been veiled by a layer of silky red. He had to tighten his fists as he struggled not to react to his war honed instincts, screaming at him to dispatch the threat. Not for the other' s safety, but because he was sure if he tried to move, his body would fall to pieces.

Harry knew the door was torn open, because his room shook and vibrated as it slammed against the wall it was connected to. The veil of red retreated and Harry was left blinking up at the ceiling again. That is until a hand slid down his left cheek cupping it and his line of sight was invaded by what could have only been himself twenty years in the future.

He recognized the man before him very clearly and the woman who stood just in reach of his peripheral vision beside him. Years of gazing longingly at their pictures, wishing for things that could never be gave him a good idea of just who these two were.

His lips flapped uselessly when he tried to force air through his lungs to form a single syllable word, but no recognizable word came out. But both seemed to know what he was trying to say. 'Dad?'

It seemed death would be complicated.

-end chapter-