Life is really simple, but we insist on making it complicated.

~Confucius

"Early this evening at 6.32pm Harry Potter "The Man Who Conquered" passed away at the age of 35 in what is being described as a routine sweep for Dark Wizards in Central London. Minister for Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt had this to say:

"We have lost a great colleague, but more than that, we have lost a great friend. Harry Potter will go down in history with titles such as 'The Boy Who Lived', but that was only the beginning of the impact he would come to have on the Wizarding World. Our society is better of because of him and his contributions as head of the Auror Department will be an example for generations to come. Whilst I mourn, I am also happy to have known such a great man, and we should all take heed of his legacy."

Family members were unavailable for comment, the only statement received was from Ron Weasley which we are unable to print it here. More details of his sudden passing will be released upon his post-mortem, but for now turn to page 3 to hear more about "The Boy Who Lived" and his life after Voldemort."

Harry threw down the paper, it landed with a violent thud onto the mahogany table. His companion glanced at him, and if Death had eyebrows they would have been raised in alarm.

"They make it sound as if I was killed by a back alley wizard who didn't know Polyjuice from Felix Felicis!" fumed Harry.

"You think that's bad," said Death, his voice sounding similar to the grating thud of a coffin shutting, "At least you aren't made to be the villain of the piece, I should write a letter of complaint. Death is quite nice once you try it for a few centuries."

"Albus Dumbledore said death is but the next great adventure," whispered Harry fondly.

"Ah yes, he was a fun one, not many reapings are fun, but he kept me amused all the way from here to... Well I can't tell you where yet," said Death, scratching his head – could you call it a head, it was more a skull with piercing red eyes – with his scythe creating a sharp screech that sent shivers down Harry's spine.

"Why can't you tell me where yet? I'm dead, or did you not read the paper," Harry felt Death's glare on him, it felt like being in a sniper's line of fire.

"I don't have to read the papers to know who I can and cannot take," and if he possessed any tone other than the monotone Harry was sure that he would be smug.

"So am I supposed to stay here until it's decided if I gain access?" Harry looked around the bleak room. Everything was dark, the curtains were stiff, black velvet, the chairs he and Death were sitting on was black too. A varnished mahogany table sat between them, and it felt strangely like an interview in which he was applying for access to the afterlife.

"No, every few decades someone comes along with unfinished business. Most people would forget or just not care about a task they had left undone, they are more traumatised by dying and regretting small things like not eating another chocolate frog. And then there are others, ones who will literally move heaven and earth to finish what they started. Guess what category you fall into?" Harry swore Death's eyes twinkled with amusement.

"Well I don't have any regrets, not big ones anyway," Harry racked his brain trying to come up with something, but each time he thought he was onto something he reached a dead end. "Do you know what it is?"

"No."

"So that's that then, I'm stuck," Harry could hear the frustration in his tone. Who could blame him really, he had left a raid for what? A room full of dusty, black fixtures and an eternity of hearing Death moan. Brilliant.

"I can do one thing though," now Harry was sure Death was messing with him. Probably the most fun he had had since Dumbledore.

"What?" At this point Harry would accept anything.

"I can send you back to the moment, give or take a year. Human lifespans are so short, it's like passing thread through a needle. Easy to get wrong the first try."

"How long do I have when I'm back?" Harry could feel the first seeds of hope sprouting.

"You have until you complete it. unless you miss the moment, then you are trapped, unless I come for you."

"Would you?" asked Harry sceptically.

"It depends on my schedule, if any wars come up it could take a while."

"I'll take it!" Harry didn't care if he was trapped at this point, he either wanted to pass on or return, staying here with this cold man – well, skeleton – was too unbearable to even consider.

"That was fast, the last person took at least a month to decide," Harry wasn't sure if Death was offended, he supposed he wouldn't get much lively company that often.

"I don't like mysteries," replied Harry hastily.

"Pity, I like causing them. post-mortems ruined them, but it did make me more creative," Death gave Harry a pearly white smile, if he was trying to joke then he failed, Harry just felt another shiver go down his spine.

"Can I go back now?" Harry didn't care if he was being rude at this point.

"I always hate how impatient you mortals are, it's like you want to live your lives in a second."

Suddenly Harry felt the room shift, it started slowly evaporating from his vision as if the room had been made entirely of mist. The remaining darkness flooded in, blocking his senses one by one. The very last thing Harry registered were the cold, red eyes of Death, and if he never knew any better he would have thought they were laughing.

A/N: Hello! It's been a while since I've written a fanfiction, but finally my scheduled cleared a bit so I can start doing it again. I'm not sure how long this story is going to be, but it won't be an epic that's for sure. I hope you like this teaser, and feel free to speculate on what is holding Harry back from the afterlife!

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter.