Hello my dear and lovely readers! Here's the story that I promised some days ago (it must have been the quickest chapter that I wrote in my life...)

Also, I'll precise some things now to make it clear: this story is pure crack. Seriously, it's like being high when you read it. There, I said it. And don't forget about the ever present perverseness of the characters. (Specially Harry. In fact, mostly Harry)

This story will have slash. A lot of it. And... A harem kind of pairing. But with a Harry like that, it's inevitable. Seriously. It is.

And now... I'll just excuse myself for the atrocious writing and grammar (I'm on a sugar rush so...) and let you read the story.

Death wasn't like Harry J. Potter had expected.

Like... not at all.

To tell you the truth, the multiple times savior of the wizarding world had expected death to be a mysterious being shred by darkness and with its face covered by its hood. Also, with a deathly (oh the bad pun) scythe on par.

Not that.

Harry grimaced and took a preventive step back when Death glared daggers at him and he looked around him nervously. He was back at the empty King's Cross station. Except that he wasn't alone.

So there was Death (or rather its representation) in front of him. Sipping calmly its cup of chamomile tea without a care about the wizard's state of mind. (He was sincerely considering breaking down and cry like a little baby.)

Why such an act from the Savior/Survivor/Best-catch-of-the-century (voted by WitchMag every year)?
Because Death wasn't the frightening and mysterious being that Harry had pictured when he reflected about his after-life.

No, Dearh was an old woman.

And it wasn't the gentle grandma kind of old woman. But the always angry and scowling kind of old woman who had a nasty comment about everything and never was happy about something. That kind.

See? Truly the most frightening thing Harry had faced in his life. Well, after-life not that it mattered.
(Seriously, Harry wanted to see how would react Voldemort if the Old Snake had to face Death when her rheumatisms were being a pain in the ass. He was even ready to sell his soul to whatever divinity existed here to make it happen)

And then, as the recently deceased wizard was actually picturing Death hitting Voldemort with her cane (because she had a rod. A perfectly normal rod that wasn't a scythe. Harry was disappointed), Death cleared her troath and sneered at the dark haired man.

"You really took your time," she said with her croaking voice.

Merlin, she really sounded like Neville's grandma. Harry pursed his lips and tried his best to not imagine Death with that atrocious vulture hat. He couldn't and laughed hysterically while falling from his seat.

Death rolled her eyes with exasperation and she tapped her cane on the floor. Sobering immediately, Harry wiped his tears from laughing too much and quickly went back to his seat.

"So," he said casually and the old woman frowned at his tone. "You're death?"

She snorted and her wrinkles briefly vanished, revealing a young and beautiful face before coming back. "No need to use those roundabout ways, bratling," Death chastised and Harry almost wanted to nod and promise to not talk again. She was that intimidating. Also, rods could be deathly (another bad pun) in good hands. And what could be deadlier than Death (he was on a roll)? "We're here to talk..."

"Okay," Harry said and he thrummed on the café table that was separating them. (Well, if he had had the choice, he would have put more distance. Like a whole dimension between them...) "what do you want to talk about?"

"I want to take back my presents," Death said.

The wizard cocked his head and smiled bashfully while he rubbed his neck.
"Weeeell," he drawled nervously and he gulped when he noticed how Death's eyes were glaring daggers at him. Again. It was probably because he had a knack with elders. Yeah, that must be it.

"What?" the mythical being asked harshly.

"It's not that I don't want to give them to you but..." Harry laughed nervously and shrugged. "I have no idea where they could be..."

"What?" Death repeated and the wizard had the strange impression that if he didn't correct his statement, he was dead. (Merlin, he really needed to stop those puns... They were going to be the death of him. Seriously, someone needed to stop him)

"Like I said," the dark haired man tried to explain. "I don't know what happened but I lost the Deathly Hallows..."

Death narrowed her eyes and Harry absentmindedly wondered if all those wrinkles could obstruct her vision. Then, the elder pursed her lips and the wizard quickly jumped on his feet to evade the (deathly) blow that had come from nowhere.

"WHAT THE HELL?" he screamed as he took refuge behind a panel advertising a famous perfume.

"You. Lost. My. Hallows," Death was literally fuming from anger and Harry eeped before jumping behind a pillar. "You're a really nasty little bratling."

The fact that she wasn't even screaming scared the wizard shitless. Seriously.
Having an old woman waving menacingly her rod at him was way more scaring than battling against all those Dark Lords. Really.
Even if she was smaller than him.

"You need a good spank, young man," Death declared and Harry gulped loudly.

"Okay, I'm out," he screamed when he saw the embodiment of death lift her rod menacingly and walk slowly towards him (well, she was old so running was out...).

He closed his eyes and instinctively concentrated to apparate somewhere else. However Harry hadn't thought about something crucial.
He was dead.

So apparating was out of question. Yet, when the wizard noticed that he wasn't disappearing and that Death was seriously nearing him with her deathly rod (okay, he was going to stop there), Harry persevered and used all of his magic to make the impossible happen.

And just as Death was finally in front of him (it had taken her ten minutes to walk those two meters), the famous wizard vanished with a startling crack.

It seemed that even dead, Harry James Potter continued fooling Death and escaping her clutches. (Okay, that was the last pun)

⊂((・x・))⊃

When Harry noticed that he wasn't anymore in King's Cross station, he took some time to realise that he really didn't know where the hell he could have ended.
So he did the first thing that occurred in his mind.

He opened his eyes and froze. Because all he saw were trees.
Seriously, they were everywhere.

Also, there was something resting by his side and the wizard sighed deeply when he noted that the something was an old man. He was almost as wrinkly as Death. Maybe his divorced husband...

'Sweet Merlin,' the wizard thought while he considered his options. 'I really hope that this old man isn't a pervert and that he didn't rape me in my sleep...'

As it seemed that the elder was out like a light, Harry swiftly observed his surrounding and raised an intrigued eyebrow when he took notice of all the trinkets that were in the seemingly wooden cave. The wizard didn't know if mad and ecolo scientist existed but he had the feeling that the old man was a lot like that.

And no, the jars full of eyes and other organs hadn't made him think that.
Well, maybe a little. But just a little.

Harry gulped when one of the eyes in the jars clearly followed every of his moves and he tried to stand. But he immediately fell as his legs were shaking like a newborn foal.

Had he been drugged by the old man?

Harry blanched. Had he been raped? By an old man?

The wizard wanted to barf. Maybe on the stranger's face but he decided against that when he felt something that wasn't supposed to be there. How come his magic was around him but not in him?!

Harry hesitantly raised a hand and looked at it before taking a deep breath.
Screw his problem with magic, he had a bigger problem there.

He wasn't going to scream, he was the all powerful Harry Potter, he wasn't going to panick like a little girl. The wizard took another deep breath and ignored the fact that he needed to exhale at a moment or another if he didn't want to die. Because he was still trying to understand why the hell his hand was the hand of a four years old child.

And also why the hell it had the same colour as tree bark.

Trying to keep his calm, Harry slowly observed his skin and his eyes traveled to his navel that was still covered by a white sheet. (It seemed more and more likely that the old man was a pervert...)

Calmly and slowly, the wizard lifted the sheet and looked with a blank face at his navel before puting the sheet down and closing his eyes.

'In fact,' he thought rationally while his heartbeat kept on running like a mad horse. 'Being spanked by Death doesn't seem like a bad idea...'

It was then that he snapped.

"MY HARRY JUNIOR! YOU, BASTARD!" Harry screamed while he jumped on his feet to kick viciously the old man awake. "WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM?! GIVE HIM BACK!"

Well, there goes his calm.

⊂((・x・))⊃

"So, I'm your... How did you call it?" Harry asked with a calm and rational voice once he recovered from his little... crisis.

"Living clone," the old man explained and if was clear that it aggravated him that the wizard still didn't get it. "I created you to protect the Demonic Statue of the Outer Path."

"Do I really have to do that?" the dark haired asked as he scratched his arm to scowl afterward when he realised that it really was tree bark. "It sounds like a hassle..."

"I don't know what went wrong with your cells but I can't dispel you," the old man muttered under his breath, probably as annoyed as Harry from their predicament. "So you can't resign. I will not kill you for now as it seems that your chakra path is entirely different from humans... It's almost like summons'..."

"I totally was right," Harry drawled. "You're a mad scientist. And ecologist too because I'm not a robot... What the hell am I?"

"A living clone," the old man sighed deeply. "You're made from human's cells, a tree clone and some Demonic Statue of the Outer Path's cells. And something clearly went wrong..."

"I think that we could call the story of my life like that," the other commented.

The old man, his creator, snickered mockingly and cracked his knuckles.
"You're not the only one..."

Harry rolled his eyes.

⊂((・x・))⊃

It took them some time to realize that Harry didn't age.

Seriously, he was still a bloody four years old. But with the mentality of an old geezer (his creator had rubbed off after some decades together...". In short, Harry was a bundle of joy.
Mostly because his Harry Jr. was still missing.
Yes, Harry wasn't a happy camper.

"Those chakra flares..." his creator suddenly muttered one evening when the kid was still brooding in his corner.

Harry ignored him and continued brooding. It was quickly becoming one of his forte because he had had years to perfection it. That and because his creator was a champion too.

"Harry," the old geezer told him. "Go see who's fighting."

The little boy continued ignoring him. A sudden flare of hot and dangerous energy surrounded the young wizard but Harry just blinked and took the magic around him to make a cocoon to protect himself from the malicious energy.

"Harry," his creator hissed. "I won't repeat myself..."

"Then give me back Junior!" he mumbled angrily. "I miss him!"

"How could you miss something you never had," the other sighed. His wrinkled deepened as he frowned. "I can't understand why you're so adamant about it."

"That must be because you don't have a sexual drive anymore," the kid shrugged. "I'm not an old fart and I need it, so give me back Junior!"

The old man rubbed his forehead and made sure that the bandages covering his eye were still in place. (Harry always was dizzy when he saw the empty socket)
"How about this?" he asked with an annoyed voice because in his all life he hadn't been the kind of person who made concession. The only time he made one, he lost everything. (And suddenly he wondered if making a deal with Harry wasn't going to bite him in the ass later) "you go see what is happening out there and I'll give you a... Harry junior as you put it."

Harry suddenly turned around and looked at his creator with wide and sparkling eyes.
"Seriously?" he squealed happily. "Oh sweet Merlin, that's awesome! Where do I have to go? Do I have to take something?"

"No," the elder slowly shook his head. "I don't need organs. Just the usual."

"Okay, I'll take all the funny looking eyes," Harry nodded and swiftly jumped out of their den. "Later, Mumma!"

The old man winced at the kid's last word and frowned harshly.
"Why his mom," he muttered for himself. "Shouldn't I be his father?"

Silly man, he should have understood after all these years with Harry by his side that the kid never made sense.

⊂((・x・))⊃

Generally, when Harry had to run some errands for his creator, he just had to take a stroll in the forest and take down whoever he met.

However, today was a little different.

He passed next to corpses and stopped to swiftly to go through their possessions. They just had scrolls (not that they mattered to Harry but he took them) and sharp weapons that were called kunai. At least, that was what his creator had said.

The wizard ignored the weapons and went to check the strange headbands that the corpses wore. Then, he checked the corpses itselves and shrugged when he noticed that they had perfectly normal eyes. That was good, he didn't take a jar with him.

Harry continued his stroll and took down another person before stopping short in front of a cavern. He didn't know why but he had a bad feeling about that cavern.
Maybe it had something to do with the familiar old woman who was sitting in front of the entry of the cavern.

"Death," Harry politely saluted as he bowed briefly before waiting for her next movement.

The old woman frowned and coughed before talking in her rasp voice.
"The wizard bratling," she said and her eyes without any distinctive colour darkened considerably. "So you were here all this time..."

Harry tensed all his muscles and remembered every fighting lesson from his creator before taking a stance. Like this, if the being decided to attack, he could flee faster.

"I have no time for our petty arguments," Death shrugged and looked behind her shoulder before standing up and sighing. "There is a boy there that died before he should have. I can't take his soul."

"So you're going to wait there until his time comes?" the dark haired kid asked with an incredule look at the old woman.

Death shrugged again.

"Does that mean that if he lives eternally, you won't go after me?" Harry said with sparkling eyes.

The woman frowned heavily.
"Listen here, young man," she began but the wizard swiftly cut her.

"Merlin's balls, this is like the best new ever! After the new that I'll finally have back Junior!" Harry screamed while spinning happily around Death.

And, before she could say anything, he disappeared in the cavern.

Death frowned.
"He better not makes him immortal or I'll spank him," she mumbled angrily as she vanished in dark smoke.

⊂((・x・))⊃

The inside of the cavern were darkness. Pure darkness in fact.

Harry actually stumped on a lot of rocks and swore so many times that it wasn't even funny. Also, he had never hated so much his creator for not giving him shoes.

He finally got to the end of the cavern and kneeled on the bloody floor, his hands in front of him because he really didn't want to bash his skull against another rock.

And then, Harry remembered something really important.

He was a wizard. As in he could do magic. Without wand now that his whole body was like a wand (yeah, it was freaky but he wasn't complaining. His creator was way too strong and he needed something to protect himself when the old man snapped) so using magic was actually easy.

And using magic he did.

"Lumos," he whispered before a blob of light began to float in front of him.

The sudden light caused him to flinch. Then, he saw the body and shivered when he noticed the heavy rocks covered the right side of the body.

"Merlin," Harry muttered before getting to work on the body. "This will be a bitch to do..."

⊂((・x・))⊃

"What the hell is that?"

Harry ignored his creator's question and put carefully the body on his futon. He then made sure the now bandaged injuries were alright and dropped loudly on the floor once he was satisfied with everything.

"So?" Old geezer asked with a raised eyebrow.

"It's my ticket to immortality," the wizard shrugged.

"You're immortal as long as I am."

"But you aren't. So here's my ticket."

The old man sighed and shrugged.
"Very well," he said. "Is he interesting?"

"Someone took his left eye," Harry answered. "And the other is just like yours..."

The elder tensed and he turned swiftly (for an old man that is) to get a better look of the unconscious boy (because it was a boy of course).

"So, can we keep it?" the wizard asked with a mocking smirk as he knew how much his creator liked those funny looking eyes.

The old man nodded silently.

⊂((・x・))⊃

It took the boy four months to regain consciousness. Not that Harry was counting the days or anything like that. Even if it had been four months, three days and six hours precisely.
But he hadn't been counting. Nor his creator had.

A small whimper had came from the boy's mouth on the fourth month (three days and six hours) and the two other males had quickly went to his side.

"He's waking up, he's waking up!" Harry excitedly ranted.

His creator just sighed in exasperation and rolled his eye.

And suddenly, the boy opened his eyes and jumped in fright.

At this Harry smiled widely because it meant that he had healed perfectly the spinal cord injury and also because it gave him a deranged look. (What? He liked to scare people and his creator wasn't a very emotive person...)

"W-who... Whe'e," the boy tried to speak but as he still had his jaw broken, it wasn't very effective.

"I'm Pinocchio and this is Gepetto," Harry said while his smile widened when he clearly heard the old man snort. "And this is our lovely house!"

The boy slowly raised his left hand (the left side had been the only without grave injuries) to touch his bandaged face.

"How..." he mumbled.

"Magic," Harry shrugged while his creator seemed to have enough of his little chat and stepped closer to the futon.

"I am Uchiha Madara and that is Harry," he sternly pointed the kid who scowled at being treated like an object. "Who are you."

"U'hiha O'ito," the boy answered after a whole minute passed gaping at the old man.
Harry rolled his eyes.

'Sweet,' he thought. 'Gepetto has another little boy to play with...'

The wizard noticed how the boy was gazing with amazed eyes at his creator and tsk-ed.
'And it's a fanboy...'

It was then that Harry noticed something really important.

Madara still hadn't given him Harry Junior.

Will Harry get his Harry Junior? Who is this mysterious Uhiha O'ito? When will the fun begin? God, so many suspense!

But seriously, should I continue this story?