A.N – Hello! This is the first HP fanfiction that I have written, and I apologise if my characters are too OC.
Just to clarify – this is a reading the books fanfic, and the only difference from canon is that the Dursleys are more abusive.
DICLAIMER – I DON'T OWN HARRY POTTER.
If I did, it'd be Drarry alll the way... ;)
CHAPTER ONE – AFTER THE BATTLE
Boom. Boom. Boom.
The army closed in and Harry raised his wand, his heartbeat slowing as his every sense sharpened.
The Final Battle, the Battle For Hogwarts, began.
Hours later, amid the cooling corpses, a body stirred.
Harry Potter sat up. The battle was won, Voldemort was dead. It was over.
It was all over.
So many dead, dead for him. Their faces flashed in his mind's eye and he knew, were he still to have the Resurrection Stone, then there would be so many more dead than there were a mere few hours ago.
All dead. All gone. All over.
The words pulsed in his head along with his heartbeat until he could barely see two feet in front of him. He drew in a shaky breath.
His wand – once Draco's, but now his – clattered from his numb fingers, hitting the floor hard. He barely registered it. They were all dead. He may as well join them.
A short dagger pricked his side and he drew it out of his pocket, twisting it thoughtfully in his hands. The cursed dagger, that had permanently scarred Hermionie and killed Dobby. Yet another death that was his fault. The dagger raised to his heart, and he prepared to push it in...
The point had barely pricked the skin when a burst of vibrant flame and a swell of phoenix song bloomed in front of him, a letter and a single, flaming feather fell past him.
"Fawkes," Harry breathed as he scooped up the letter and feather with unerring Seeker's accuracy, before they even hit the floor.
Harry, my dear boy -
If you are reading this, then Voldemort is defeated and I am dead. It is the only reason that I could have allowed Fawkes to give it to you.
Now, listen. You're now an Immortal, my boy. Neither can live while the other survives... the Prophecy is meant literally.
The moment that what was left of Tom Riddle's body hit the floor, you came into your heritage as an Immortal, as the Master Of Death. You can call the Hallows to you, if they are not already in your possession. From however old you are now – you shall never age, you shall never die. The only thing that could kill you was Voldemort, and he is dead.
At the bottom of this letter, Harry, is a spell which shall allow you to collect anybody needed from one of three timelines, and will read them to read your seven Hogwarts years.
The choice is yours. The past may be altered.
Albus Percivil Wulfric Brian Dumbledore
Headmaster Of Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft And Wizardry
Order Of Merlin, First Class
Chief Warlock Of The Wizengamot
There was a buzzing silence in Harry's mind.
He could save them all?
Well, there was only one option then – after all, he was a foolhardy Gryffindor.
The spell began.
So? What do you think? Please review! If there are any queries that you want to bring up, then just tell me!
Please don't be mean though!
Moleluv out.