Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or make money off of this story.

Author's Note: Loosely based on Reptillia28's challenge and in memory of Paladeus (with heavy influence from his fic Death's Pride) may he rest in peace.

Harry woke up on the cold stone floor of the Great Hall. He was disoriented for a moment, the walls were bright white and the enchanted ceiling was that of the night sky. Harry stood up only to notice he was devoid of any clothing. As he started to look around in a slight panic he tried to remember the last thing he was doing before waking up in the Great Hall. While he was trying to remember what it was that he was doing he couldn't help but notice there were other people in the room with him, all of them in the same state of undress as he was, the closest of those he noticed were that of Hermione Granger, Professor McGonagall, Ginny Weasley, Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood. Disturbed to see his professor in all her "glory" he turned away from the sight to see a short, slightly balding man dressed in a dark gray suit walking towards him carrying what appeared to be a clipboard.

"Harry Potter, I presume?" The man asked.

"Um… yes and you are?" asked Harry tentatively.

"That is not important at this moment in time we are on a tight schedule and we need to get a move on, so if you would please follow me." The man stated in a tone that left no room for further discussion.

The short man then proceeded to walk in the direction that he came from assuming that Harry would follow him. Harry unsure what to do started to follow the man all the while trying to hide his manhood. As they were leaving the Great Hall Harry noticed that the hallway they entered didn't look like it was a part of Hogwarts architecture but instead looked like it belongs in an office building in downtown London. As they passed by several doors Harry finally gathered up the courage to ask where they were heading to which the balding man states, "I am taking you to see your death angel… again."

"Again? You mean I've died before?" Harry questioned the balding man with a look of disbelief etched on his face.

"Yes you have, this will make it the 20th time in fact and it's getting rather tiresome seeing you over and over again before your time has truly come." The balding man snarled.

Embarrassed by this new bit of information Harry lowered his head trying to hide the pink tint in his cheeks but in doing so he didn't notice the short bald man stop in front of a door and ended up bowling him over making them both land in a heap on the floor. Harry feeling more embarrassed than he did only moments before scrambled to get off the man who seemed ready to lose his temper in a spectacular fashion, but refrained from doing so for it wasn't worth losing his job over Fate's favorite human *cough* plaything *cough*. He sighed to release the pent up anger. The balding man then knocked on the door and waited for a response from the occupant on the other side.

"Enter." The Female voice sounded through the door with an air of slight annoyance as though she already knew the reason for the disturbance.

The short man then opened the door and announced Harry's arrival in the room before shoving said young man into the room and closing the door behind him. Harry looked around the room feeling a sense of deja vu as though he had been here before. The woman sitting at the desk in front of him sighed and gestured for Harry to take a seat in front of the desk where a chair that wasn't there originally suddenly appeared making him jump slightly. Harry, after a brief moment of trepidation, sits in the chair and looks at the woman who appears to be no older than 18 with hair the color of a sunset in the middle of winter and eyes that match.

"Harry, I swear to the Almighty, I thought I told you I didn't want to see your face again for another 100 years or so," she huffed angrily.

"I'm sorry but who are you again?" asked a highly confused Harry.

"My name is Hebe and I am your third death angel." Hebe exhaled in a tone of indignation.

"Third death angel!? What happened to the first two!?" Harry loudly questioned.

"Your constant dying got them demoted to being the mail carriers for the underworld, which will be my fate if you die one more time before your time, which I refuse to let that happen to me," Hebe explained, "I worked way too hard to get this position and to be the first female death angel just to let it slip through my fingers because you can't off the dark wanker who calls himself 'Voldemort'."

"So here is what we are going to do, because those stupid men before me failed to follow proper procedure, I am going to have you sign some paper work which states that you will be going back just before the beginning of your first year with all of your memories some of which will be locked until they are triggered by certain events, you will get with all three of your souls mates, because you will obviously be needing the help, whose statuses we will be upgrading to soul bonds. This will essentially ensure that you will end up with them and vice versa."

"Wait a minute what do you mean going back and soul mates? I thought a person only had one of those that they only met if they were extremely lucky." Harry interrupted once again.

"Well if you'd let me finish I will explain that to you, you little shit. Yes you have three soul mates one of them is some Granger girl, the other two I just recently found out about myself since she was closer to you. I have yet to pull their files so I am unaware of their identities as of this moment but I do know that they all attend Hogwarts with you," she explained in a huff.

Harry looked at her furrowing his eyebrows, "What?"

Hebe pinched the bridge of her nose trying to stave off the headache that was forming. She got up and went to the filing cabinet behind her that was black. As she pulls it open it extends beyond what a normal, muggle, filing cabinet would. She pulled out three files after what seemed to be five minutes of opening the cabinet.

"Ah hah," she said to herself as she picked out two files.

She moved back to her desk, sitting down before she opened the files.

"Let's see…," she mumbled as she stared reading them, "Hermione Jean Granger, muggleborn, Luna Celeste Lovegood, pureblood, and Daphne Roxanne Greengrass, pureblood these-"

"Wait! Wait, wait, wait. I thought Ginny was my soulmate. I was dating her before I broke up to save her from being targeted. I haven't seen Hermione as anything more than a sister, not to mention Luna is a nice girl and all but I don't really think she is into me and I don't even know Greengrass on that kind of personal level," he exclaimed.

Hebe blinked slowly at him as though he were stupid.

"No."

She pulled out a book and opened it while looking through the files again.

"That would be because of a Molly Julia Weasley and a Ronald Bilius Weasley."

Harry stared at her lost.

"Molly Weasley and Ronald Weasley have been slipping you potions brewed by this Molly Julia Weasley nee Prewett. She was a potions apprentice but then stopped after her second pregnancy."

"Ms. Weasley wouldn't do that!"

"HARRY JAMES POTTER! I'M TELLING YOU THE BLOODY TRUTH! IT'S RIGHT HERE IN THIS BOOK AND THESE FILES!"

"M-maybe they're wrong," he tried miserably.

"It is impossible for them to be wrong. They're self-updating. Do you think out of all the people in the world we would be able to constantly write and keep up with all the happenings without screwing up? We have the life, death, and the afterlife to deal with."

Harry blushed feeling stupid and insecure.

"No," he whispered unsure of himself.

Hebe sighed.

"It's fine, I know you don't remember any of the other times so I shouldn't expect you to remember. This will be the last time or so help me I'll render your soul unpassable before I'm demoted."

He paled turning whiter than the Great Hall he had awoken in.

"Now. Molly Weasley has been brewing love potions and with the help of Ronald Weasley you've been under their influence since third year. He stopped temporarily when he thought you lied during the Tournament debacle, and again after he left during the hunt."

The green eyed wizard grimaced as he absorbed this information.

"Molly Weasley wanted your fortune, she felt it was her right as a pureblood and with you 'only being a half-blood' you didn't deserve it as much as she did. Ronald Weasley wanted your fame, at first thinking you lived the life of a prince instead of a pauper. When he found out and realized that despite your living conditions you still had a massive amount of gold, he was envious to the extreme. Essentially drugging you and Ginevra Molly Weasley so he was one step closer, or so he felt, to getting what he deserved."

"So, Ginny didn't know?" Harry asked hopefully.

"No," she responded, "Ginevra Weasley was just as much a victim as you were."

"She was groomed to believe she'd marry you by Molly Weasley, which started her crush, after attending Hogwarts she was able to see the close connection you had with Hermione and realized she didn't stand a chance. It didn't crush her as she had expected, but getting drugged by her brother she was unable to truly move on from her crush, even though she tried."

"What about ? I'm sorry, Arthur Weasley, I know there are a lot of, um, guys in that family."

"Arthur Septimus Weasley was unaware of what his wife and youngest son were doing. He thought his daughter had the stereotypical crush that many other young witches had for 'The-Boy-Who-Lived'. He was also drugged by Molly Weasley with loyalty potions to keep him from questioning her actions. While he does truly love her, the loyalty potions make him oblivious to her machinations."

"Ginny told me the story of how her mom gave Arthur a love potion and that's how they got together," Harry inserted, glad that at least Ginny didn't have anything to do with him being drugged.

"Yes," she nodded, "That's how it started, but eventually Arthur Weasley truly came to love her on his own."

"Molly Weasley eventually also started to have Ronald Weasley slip Hermione Granger love potions during your fourth year, keyed to him. She wanted Ronald to have a smart witch, even if she was muggleborn. At the same time she brewed potions for Albus- who added too many middle names to make himself feel more important – Dumbledore that prevented other witches from getting too close to you. He couldn't prevent them from having crushes on you; that would have alerted parents almost immediately that something was wrong, but it deterred them from making moves on you."

"What about Romilda Vane? In sixth year she tried to slip me love potions in chocolate that Ron ate."

"That's an easy one. That year she had to take a flushing potion due to a bad batch of menses potion. They help witches during their time of month so their magic doesn't fluctuate with their emotions. It's mandatory and can be extremely bad for those surrounding them. So because of that it flushed the deterrent."

The wizard winced at the mention of menses.

"Oh grow up! You're going to be bonded to three witches! They're going to need you there to support them, especially when they all sync up," she hissed.

He had a look of horror on his face, he didn't know that they synced up.

"This is what happens when men aren't introduced to sexual education at an early age. It should be mandatory first year since that's when some witches get their menarche."

Harry made a face but nodded in agreement. He remembered the first time Hermione had to explain to him why she made frequent bathroom visits after he expressed concern thinking she was sick. Even on the potion every witch had her own flow she explained.

"Anyways, back to the subject at hand. Albus- goat fucker extraordinaire- Dumbledore wanted you to be alone and easily manipulated so that the prophecy could play out in the way he interpreted it. After you died, since that was his plan, he was going to swoop in and save the day and regain his position as savior of the wizarding world after Gellert Grindelwald."

"You were allowed to be friends with the Weasley family because they were firmly in his camp and useful pawns on his chessboard. So while Dumbldork was keeping you under his thumb, you were unable to access your full potential due to being extremely malnourished, having a seal on your magic which only allowed you 13% of it at any time and being drugged up to your eyeballs, that caused so many of your deaths," she said not looking happy about that part.

"Now the reason your soul mates are being upgraded from soul mates to soul bonds is for the extra protection it will provide. So you won't have to worry about mind altering potions or spells. Confundus, Imperius, etc."

"What about legilimency?" Harry asked.

"That, thankfully, falls into etc. With the soul bonds it'll give you natural occlumency."

"Even from the horcrux in my scar?"

Hebe sighed in exasperation and held her head in her hands with her elbows on her desk, "The horcrux was removed after your first death. What made you think it was still there to begin with?"

"Well the visions and the fake vision of Sirius being tor –"

"No. That's a part of the 'Power the Dark Lord knows not'. How he manipulated it for that is beyond me. But with the soul bond it'll be a one way street, so to speak."

Harry nodded in relief.

"So it's essentially a dream spy thing?"

"Until you learn how to control it, it's a 'dream thing' as you called it."

"How do I control it?" he asked.

"That I can't tell you. You can however ask Luna Lovegood. Despite what people think of her, she has the Sight."

"The Sight?"

Hebe reached across the desk and slapped him upside the head.

"Are you fucking stupid?" she asked seriously.

"No?" Harry replied uncertainly.

"So your learning ability also seems to have been skewed thanks to those fucking potions," Hebe mumbled.

She reached over and pushed a button on what looked like an intercom that wasn't there before.

"Hi this is Death Angel Hebe, I need someone from the Mind over Matter department," she sighed after saying the name of the department.

A male voice responds from the intercom, "I'm sending someone over right away. Timing should be two minutes max, give or take."

As soon as the voice stopped talking there was a knock to Harry's left.

He turned to see a door that he didn't see on his way into the office. A short plump woman, who reminded him of Umbridge without the toady appearance, walked in. She had a nicer, motherly, calming effect around her too.

"Death Angel Hebe, Aquilia reporting for duty. How may I pick your mind today?"

Hebe groaned under her breath and gave the other woman a long side glance.

With a deep breath Hebe stated, "This is my client and he is in need of a mental scrub. His learning capabilities seem to be… obstructed."

Aquilia clucked her tongue in a motherly fashion, "You poor soul. Come with me, I'll return you to your Death Angel in a jiffy."

"Why aren't we doing it here?" Harry asked uncomfortably.

"Because the process seems to disturb the Death Angels. Mind purgation isn't for everybody," she answered kindly.

Hebe's face had a green tinge at the mention of the process.

"Oh," Harry softly uttered.

He stood to follow the short plump woman out of the room for the purgation.

They walked into another room that was whiter than the Hospital Wing, temporarily blinding Harry in the process. Once he gained his vision back he was led to a chair in the middle of the room that looked like it belonged in a barbershop. Harry was directed to sit in said chair and to not move.

"Why can't I move," Harry asked curiously.

"Oh that's quite simple dear if the procedure gets disturbed by your movement we may never be able to find your brain again," Aquilia stated cheerfully.

Harry turned white and felt nauseous at the thought.

"Ok dear we are about to start the process it should be done in about ten minutes depending on how bad the damage is," Aquilia informed Harry.

So for the next 15 minutes Harry had basically watched his brain got washed as though it was in a washing machine. The entire process was interesting somehow the hair dryer looking contraption on the chair pulled Harry's brain out from inside his skull without making him feel like a brain dead monkey, which was a relief. As the process was coming to an end Harry started feeling more like he did before coming to the magical world as far as his thinking process goes.

"There you are dear you're all set, you may now move out of the chair." The plump woman giggled.

"Well…that was um an interesting procedure," Harry stated.

"Glad you think so dear,"Aquilia said with a smile, "Now let's get you back to your Death Angel."

The duo left the cleansing room and returned to the original room to see Hebe sitting in the same spot looking through the files more thoroughly.

"Ah, welcome back," Hebe says as the duo entered the room, "Everything went well I'm guessing?"

"So well done it's like there's a whole new mind it will hardly recognize itself," she chirped.

Hebe sighed the deepest of sighs. The people in the Mind over Matter department just could not stop trying to make jokes.

With a bright smile Aquilia left the room, leaving the Death Angel and her client to their business. Hebe pulled out two stacks of paper one of which she places in front of Harry.

"This is the contract that you will be signing. Because of how thick it is, and we don't have the time for you to read through it all, the important nitty gritty parts are what we discussed about your soul bonds, the fact that you cannot discuss any of the knowledge you possess except with your soul bonded witches or anyone we give you approval for, giving me permission to occasionally drop in to give you advice and to discuss further actions with you, your acceptance on being sent back a week before the start of your first year and the final thing is that you accept there may be subtle differences in the time line that were not there before such as someone being in the same year as you that were in a year ahead or a year behind you."

"What? Why?" He asked baffled.

"Well… we're not going to send you straight back this time. We're going to send you to the time line right next door, for lack of better words. Think of it being sent through time sideways," she hedged.

"Sideways?"

"Parallel timelines. All souls end up here and die at the same time, regardless of the year difference of birth. Basically when you die, your soul moves to a parallel version of yourself that has not died, but you all die at the same time like a bunch of TWATS."

"O-oh. Okay. Can you tell me what the differences will be?"

"Nope. We can't do that because it will interact with your reactions making them less genuine."

"What? How does that work?" Harry queried.

"Look I don't have the time to explain that to you I have to prepare the other soul that is going back with you because every time you died she followed shortly after," Hebe stated, "I'll be speaking with you more almost immediately after I finish my meeting with her till than lets wrap this up."

"Her?"

"Hermione Jean Granger. You know, your soul mate, now your future soul bond."

"Hermione died?"

"Why do you think you saw all those people in the Waiting Hall? The Waiting Hall is essentially the last place you died, where you wait until a ferryman delivers you to your Death Angel."

"Oh that explains all the people in the Great– oh wait! They all died!? Hermione, Luna, Professor McGonagall?"

"Yes," she hissed in annoyance, "you all died making this unnecessary 'grand last stand'. If you had proper control of Hogwarts' ward scheme like you were supposed to it wouldn't have happened in the first fucking place!"

"Control of Hogwarts' –"

"I'm not getting into it right now. Let's just get you into the Weaves of Fate / Destiny Room."

"Fate slash Destiny," Harry said in a judgmental tone.

"They can never make up their mind. It depends on the sister you talk to, so to avoid stepping on toes, yes, Fate / Destiny."

"The sisters?"

"Don't you read? It's one of the things the living world got right. The sisters of Fate. Clotho, Lachesis, Atropos."

Harry shifted and pursed his lips petulantly never having taken an interest in mythological gods.

"Right," she sighed, "Just... just sign here, initial here, drop of blood here-"

"Blood? I thought- "

"It's life essence, but blood translates better for your understanding," she glared, "And another signature here."

After doing as she said, Harry looked at her.

"And over there," she pointed to a dark ornate looking wood door, "is where you depart."

Harry nodded and got up, just as he was about to open the door, Hebe stopped him.

"Wait. Harry."

"Yeah?"

"Don't fuck up," she glared.

Harry opened the door and walked in, closing the door behind him, bumping into what appeared to be a young girl of 8, with light blue eyes, bright strawberry blond, and a button nose, wearing a long dress.

"Sorry!"

The young girl giggled at him.

"It's okay, don't tell Atropos that I stopped spinning waiting for you," she giggled.

"Atropos?" he asked.

"Yeah. Atropos is the oldest, Lachesis, is the middle, and I'm Clotho, the youngest," she explained with a grin.

"You're the sisters of Fate?"

"Yes! But Atropos likes Destiny better, which is stupid –"

"Mind your tongue Clotho," an elderly woman with gray hair and a face that bellied wisdom. Her eyes were brown that reminded him of bloodwood, not brown, but not red, carrying what appeared to be shears that were slightly bigger than her.

"Harry Potter, you're late," she reprimanded much like McGonagall with the same stern look upon her face.

Harry shifted, "Sorry. I was signing the, um, paperwork."

The third sister, who had to be Lachesis walked over heaving a deep sigh.

"The paperwork is so redundant. We can force you to do those things anyways, it just makes you souls feel better, like you actually have some control over your Fate," the sister said.

She looked like a young adult, perhaps late 20s, with warm cinnamon hair. Her eyes were a brilliant green agate.

"But they have free will!" Clotho exclaimed.

"Free will to screw up before they have to go back and do it right," Lachesis sniped.

"They have the free will to choose how they fulfill their mortal duties, not change what they are," Atropos chimed in.

"So how it is that you are somehow failing to do so completely baffles me," Atropos stated with a pointed glare in Harry's direction.

At Atropos' glare Harry had the presence of mind to look bashful.

"Oh, leave him alone he's trying!" Admonished Clotho glaring at Atropos with her hands on her hips trying to look scarier than she really was, which was hilarious considering she looked like a child.

Harry couldn't help but smile at how cute she looked trying to make herself look intimidating.

"As amusing as this is can we please proceed to get this young man back to his life, so to speak, you can continue to argue later," Lachesis cut in before the fighting got bad.

"Fine." They both said at the same time.

Now thoroughly confused Harry looked between the three sisters wondering how exactly they were going to send him through time. Harry watched as the three went about the room gathering what he assumed to be the items they needed to send him back into the time stream. When they were finished gathering all of the items, the items in question somehow disappeared.

"Wait, where'd all the things that you were collecting go? Weren't you about to use them to send me back or sideways or whatever?" asked Harry.

"Don't worry about us. We'll take care of you just as you're meant to be," Lachesis said.

"If it makes you feel any better, you're one of my favorites," Clotho admitted.

Both of her sisters gave her a long side glance. He was one of the few souls they actually needed to interact with more than 3 times. 20 times, while not a record, was indeed up there.

"One of your favorites? What?"

"Oh right. You don't remember the other times," Clotho pouted.

She walked up to him and booped him on the nose with her index finger, standing on her tippy toes, and exclaimed, "Boop!"

With that Harry remembered his other interactions with the sisters and blinked.

He bent down to the deity who was stuck as a child and leaned in, holding his hand against his face as though having a private conversation with her, "Don't tell your sisters, but you're my favorite too," he whispered making the girl giggle.

The two other sisters shared a look that said they knew what the youngest occupants (even if one of them was a few millennia years old) of the room were talking about.

"If two you are quite finished being silly let us get down to weaving you back into the time stream shall we?" The eldest questioned with a look that said the answer better be yes.

"I do have one question first though. I don't remember exactly how you guys send me back why is that?" Harry asked.

"That's because you aren't aware during those times due to the fact that you are basically turned into… for lack of better terms, cloth, to be stitched back into the fabric of time." Explained Lachesis.

Harry looked thoughtful at that new piece of information as that would explain why he had no memories of the events, even if it was rather unorthodox to him.

"One more thing Harry," Lachesis started making Harry look in her direction, "I thought you'd like to know that you are not the one who has messed up their mortal duties the most that title belongs to one Merlin Emrys who died at least 30 times before getting it right, although you are a close second. The only reason you are not second most deaths is because of one Hermione Jean Granger who has one more death than you do. Of course we are not at liberty to tell you how it happened."

"Can you at least tell me if it was my fault or not?"

"Usually not if you were involved but since you weren't: No it wasn't because of you."

"Well that's a relief," Harry sighed.

"Alright enough chit chat let's get this done already we have other matters to attend to you know," Atropos huffed bitterly.

Without further preamble, but a frown on her face, Clotho turned to Harry and with a wave of her hand where Harry once stood was now a wispy shape that looked like raw cotton that shared the same coloring as Harry. The youngest sister took him and spun him into thread, where Lachesis took him and began to weave him back into the living realm. Once Lachesis finished Atropos smoothed out the Fabric of Life and made sure that neither of her sisters skived off due to their familiarity with the boy. The three sisters then sat in wait, although Clotho did so impatiently.