AN: Based on an odd concept involving dying and Terry Pratchett's Death, who is an anthropomorphic personification. For those of you who are familiar with Pratchett's work, this Death is not his Death. Also, I own none of this, other than my Death.
Harry Potter was only a year old, the first time he died. But Death took pity on the young child and his mother who had put such efforts into saving him, and so he sent the boy back almost completely whole.
Only a few days after his first death, the young Potter met Death again. He had been left on a doorstep in the beginning of November with only a blanket. Death came to the boy when hypothermia caused his heart to stop. Pitying the boy whose life had only just been spared, Death revived the boy. This time, though, Death had to take a more as payment, for even he cannot do anything for free.
After that Harry spent uninterrupted years with the Dursleys. He was quiet, almost never saying a word to his family. He spent his time in the closet which had been designated his room. He came out when told to by either Vernon or Petunia, but when left alone he invariably ended up sitting on the floor of his closet, staring into the darkness.
At the age of three Harry still hadn't spoken to his family, Petunia began to worry. This freakishness was far different from that of her sister's. When she looked in the boys eyes, she felt the troubling sensation that he wasn't right. Petunia had met clinically insane people before, and they had felt wrong too. But this was different. This was frightening.
At the age of four Vernon felt he had put up with the boy just sitting there doing nothing for long enough. He threw young Harry into the garden in front of the house, quickly showed him what were weeds and told him to weed the garden.
As he weeded the garden Harry found a small grey and black snake. It was small only about the length of his forearm. He stopped and stared at the snake, unsure of what to do. He had heard Petunia tell Dudley that he should leave snakes alone because they could bite him, but the snake was on top of some weeds.
"Are you jusst going to sstare at me all day?"
Harry was fairly certain that animals weren't supposed to talk. At least, they never did in the shows he saw playing on the television. But, he supposed, they snake had never done anything to him and didn't seem to want to hurt him.
"I'm sorry. Would you please move?"
"Of course, Ssspeaker, if it pleasess you." And with that the snake left. Curious, Harry moved after it, deciding that now he had finally found someone to talk to who didn't hate him, he wasn't about to let them get away.
"Wait, please? Would you stay and talk to me?" The snake stopped and stared at the boy.
And then Harry Potter was hit by a car.