Harry Potter and the Deal with Death

Summary: Harry just killed Voldemort but was it worth it? Nearly everyone he knows is dead. When a new prophecy comes to light, Harry makes a deal with Death that allows him go back in time and kill Voldemort before the war starts. Can he do it or is time travel an impossible task?

Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling. I make no claim to ownership.

Chapter 1: The Beginning of the End

"No one help," said Voldemort to the ten or so Death Eaters behind him. Harry could pick Theodore Nott and Pansy Parkinson out of the crowd but the other faces were not familiar to him. "This is between the boy and me."

With that, Voldemort created an invisible barrier surrounding Harry and himself. Harry did not know if it was to keep the Death Eaters out or to keep him from apparating away. He could hear the Death Eaters' excited chatter and the taunts directed at him but he chose to ignore them, focusing on the task at hand.

"There are no more horcruxes. It's just you and me. Neither can live while the other survives," Harry said, quoting the wretched prophecy with more confidence than he felt, "and one of us is about to leave for good…" He just hoped it wasn't him.

Voldemort snorted in derision. "Do you honestly believe that it will be me, stupid boy?" Harry could hear the remaining Death Eaters laughing.

They circled each other, the only sound in the air was of their feet on gravel. Harry had thought about this moment for a long time. He had always imagined dramatic flashes of lightning, his friends cheering him on as he and Voldemort stared each other down, each waiting for the right moment to strike.

But there was no lightning and most of his friends were dead. Voldemort and Harry continued to circle each other around the barrier like they were both simultaneously predator and prey.

Harry ignored his question and posed another. "The wand in your hand isn't working for you is it, Tom?"

Voldemort stopped short, red eyes widening slightly. Ever so slightly. Harry stopped too and fought the urge to smirk. So little had made him happy in the last few months but this, this look of shock on this man, if you could even call him that, made him want to laugh uproariously.

With unrestrained glee, he explained the true nature of Severus Snape's allegiance, how Draco Malfoy had disarmed Dumbledore that fateful night, and how Harry, in turn, had disarmed Draco. "So it all comes down to this, doesn't it?" whispered Harry. "Does the wand in your hand know its last master was disarmed? Because if it does…I am the true master of the Elder Wand."

Red eyes gazed intently into green. Harry swallowed slowly, clammy fingers holding onto his wand as tightly as he could. This is it, he thought. Now.

"Avada Kedavra," shouted Voldemort at the same time Harry yelled, "Expelliarmus."

Harry caught the Elder Wand, watching as Voldemort fell. It seemed like something from a movie. His eyes wide, he staggered back a step as he dramatically clutched his chest. He hit the ground with a small thud and didn't move.

Shocked gasps filled the air. Harry looked up as the barrier dissolved, just in time to see the Death Eaters apparate away as quickly as possible. He didn't even try to throw a spell their way.

Harry knew that Voldemort was dead but he couldn't help but check. Slowly, he walked over to Voldemort's corpse. He swiped at the sweat that slid down his brow and ran his hand through his dirty, matted hair. He could not remember the last time he had washed it and knew he must have looked a wreck. Harry felt a sense of deep weariness settle into his bones as he walked, the adrenaline fleeing him, but he needed to see for himself that this man, who had plagued so many lives, was truly gone.

Harry looked into Voldemort's unseeing red eyes and touched his face with his mud-caked black boot. He was dead all right. But for some reason it did not feel like enough. He lifted his wand and pointed it at Voldemort's corpse. Voldemort's body did not deserve to grace Hogwarts with its presence, even in death. "Reducto," he said, watching Voldemort's body burst into a million pieces.

His legs finally gave out. Falling to his knees, Harry looked out at the horizon. The sun was setting, casting a warm glow on all it touched. He felt numb. It was over, it was all truly over.

What now?

Harry Potter walked through the wreckage of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the first place he had ever felt at home. The stone viaduct was in shambles, making the area look like one big crater. The clock tower lay amongst the wreckage. Its hands were motionless, the glass was shattered, and it chimed no longer. He walked through the quad, almost hesitant. Every step, a new horror awaited. Bodies, so many bodies, littered the ground. Harry spotted Professor McGonagall in the mess, wand still clutched in her bony hands. He knew she hadn't died without putting up one hell of a fight. He saw Professor Flitwick, his small body splayed out completely, a nasty gash across his forehead, long dried. He saw long, platinum blonde hair peeking out from under a pile of rocks and knew at once it was Luna.

He spotted flashes of red hair in his periphery and walked up to it. The Weasley twins were slumped together against a crumbling wall, blank eyes watching Harry. Next to them, he saw Molly, her neck twisted in the most horrible way, skin an alarming shade of purple. Harry swallowed back bile and continued to walk through the crowds of the dead, hoping beyond hope that one, just one, person would be alive. He ticked off the bodies he recognized as saw them.

Cho Chang. Check.

Colin Creevy. Check.

Remus and Tonks. Check and check.

Hagrid. Check.

Hannah Abbott. Check.

Horace Slughorn. Check.

Andromeda Tonks. While he was sad to see her, he was also confused. He had thought that Andromeda had stayed behind to look after Teddy while his parents fought. Harry knew that Teddy wasn't with Ted Tonks either. He had been brutally murdered by Snatchers after months on the run, his only crime being that he was muggleborn. So, if Teddy wasn't with Andromeda, and he wasn't with Ted, then where was he?

Harry continued to surveil the bodies. He saw Death Eaters as well. Bellatrix Lestrange, Amycus Carrow, and Corban Yaxley were amongst the dead, and he couldn't feel one ounce of regret for it. After an hour, he knew his inspection was pointless. He knew they were all dead. Mr. Weasley, Ron and….Ginny had already passed prior to the final battle. Hermione, well, Hermione had suffered a worse fate at the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange. She had been tortured to insanity with the Cruciatus curse and was now holed up in Bill and Fleur's house with, of all people, Kreacher looking after her.

He was ready to give up on his search, but, in a last ditch effort, he raised his wand. "Homenum revelio," he said, with a flick of his wrist. It glowed red, meaning there was human life somewhere near him. Wild eyed and frantic, Harry ran through the crowd of corpses. "Hello?" he bellowed, "is somebody there?"

A hand reached out and tugged Harry's pant leg. He whipped around to see Sybil Trelawney. Her glasses were askew and broken, her face was a dirty mess, and blood was seeping through her white button down shirt.

"Professor Trelawney," Harry said, kneeling down beside her.

"Harry," she whispered. "H-help me."

He was no healer and he had a rudimentary knowledge of potions, thanks to the lackluster teaching of Severus Snape. He had no idea what to do.

But he knew someone who might.

Harry gingerly picked Professor Trelawney up bridal style and apparated to the Headmaster's office. He was scared that jostling her would hurt her further but there was really nothing he could do about it. He just counted his lucky stars that the protective wards over Hogwarts were down.

The two appeared in the office, which looked more or less the same as it had at the end of his sixth year. The only notable differences were a few new knickknacks on the desk, probably belonging to Snape.

"Professor Dumbledore," he called frantically. He waited impatiently for Dumbledore to appear in his portrait. "I need your help."

"Harry?" he said, shocked to see him. Harry did not know if Dumbledore was shocked at the fact that he was alive, or, if he was startled by Harry's appearance, more specifically, at the scars and bruises that covered him. His nose had also been broken once during the war and had not been fixed properly, due to the fact that Hermione was in no state to heal it and he had no idea how. Harry had not seen his reflection in days and had no idea just how awful he looked.

Dumbledore then moved his gaze to Professor Trelawney, a look of resignation colouring his old face.

"Help me save her," said Harry, pleading with Dumbledore. He placed Professor Trelawney on the floor. Her eyes fluttered open and closed several times as she started to lose consciousness. Her body began to convulse.

Dumbledore wasted no time. "Take the brass key on the desk and open the third drawer on the cupboard to your left. Look for a small vial of liquid that is pink, bright pink. It will help with the seizure. Hurry. She does not have much time."

Harry rushed over to the Headmaster's cluttered desk to look for the key. Not seeing it immediately, he proceeded to throw papers and books to the floor. He finally spotted it on the far left hand corner of the desk, completely out in the open. He had no idea how he hadn't seen it to begin with. Harry quickly grabbed the key and opened the third drawer on the cupboard to his left. He pulled the drawer out almost completely as he searched for the vial, roughly pushing the wrong vials out of the way.

"Hurry, Harry."

"I-I'm trying. I don't see it," he said, pure panic washing over him.

Green liquid, brown, gold…pink! He grabbed the vial and rushed over to Professor Trelawney. He pried open her mouth, and, after pulling the cork out of the bottle, clumsily tipped the entire contents into her mouth.

She stilled almost immediately, her eyes still closed.

"Now, you need to do something about the cut across her chest. Remove her shirt and speak the incantation Vulnera Sanentur. Trace the wound with your wand as you say it," said Dumbledore, authoritatively.

If this had been any other scenario, the suggestion of removing one of his Professor's clothing would have embarrassed the life out of him. But this was a life or death scenario. He tugged roughly at the buttons of her white shirt, stained with sweat and dirt. The buttons fell to her sides, revealing a grotesque cut starting from the top of her right breast and ending at her sternum.

Fighting the urge to vomit, he pointed his wand at her chest. "Vulnera Sanentur," Harry said, moving his wand up and down the large gash on Professor Trelawney's chest. The blood started to disappear. He repeated the spell again, the wound clearing up almost completely.

Breathing heavily and still hunched over her body, Harry watched Professor Trelawney's face. She looked better and some colour was returning to her pale face, but she still did not look well. He wondered if she would make past the night.

"She will heal slowly, Harry. Do not fret. You have done all that you can," said Dumbledore.

Harry nodded without looking at him. He got up, legs shaking slightly. He proceeded to transfigure the couch in Dumbledore's office into a bed and lifted Professor Trelawney onto it with his wand. He pulled the rough covers over her frail looking body and sighed, watching her chest heave rapidly.

"What happened?" said Dumbledore.

Harry turned to look at him. He could see the old man's eyes glistening with unshed tears, or maybe that was just Harry's imagination. He was looking at a portrait after all. He sat down at the Headmaster's chair and began the tale.

"The Death Eaters broke through the Hogwarts wards. They had destroyed the Floo network prior so we couldn't get the younger students out. Some of their parents showed up to take their children away after the wards went down and some showed up to fight. Most of the older students stayed to fight as well, whether with us or the Death Eaters I can't say. But still, there were more Death Eaters than we could have imagined. Voldemort did a good job at recruiting," Harry said, snorting bitterly. "The Death Eaters weren't afraid to use some of the more…volatile spells," said Harry, shaking his head as if to rid himself of a bad memory. "They created a version of the Expulso curse that basically made a large scale bomb in the quad. A lot of people died. Those that survived battled as best as they could, and while they took out a lot of them, about fifty or so Death Eaters survived after they all died."

Harry paused to cough, then went on. "Voldemort killed Snape. While he was dying, he gave me a vial with some of his memories. I realized that I was a horcrux...but that's not exactly news to you, now is it?" he said, raising an eyebrow at Dumbledore. Dumbledore grimaced and Harry continued, "I met Voldemort in the woods, after telling Neville everything. He was the only other person on our side still left alive. Voldemort used the killing curse on me and it rid me of the horcrux. I was able to get away but not before I placed a synchronicity curse on as many Death Eaters as I could." Harry remembered how the curse had bonded all of their bodies and how one Avada Kedavra had brought down about forty Death Eaters. He had apparated away before Voldemort could attack.

"That is old magic. Where did you learn it?" said Dumbledore, a sad smile on his face.

"H-Hermione had read about it…before the incident," said Harry, choking up. He clenched his hand into a fist and hit Dumbledore's desk. Angrily, he said, "I hadn't remembered it until after the quad was bombed."

"You mustn't blame yourself," said Dumbledore. Harry was about to disagree wholeheartedly when Dumbledore, possibly sensing the ensuing argument, said, "What happened next?"

"Voldemort, Neville, and I, along with a few Death Eaters, were the only ones left. Neville and I had a plan to kill the snake. It was the only horcrux left. Neville would be under the invisibility cloak with Gryffindor's sword and would wait until I distracted Voldemort. He hadn't known that Neville was still alive, you see. Neville cut off the head of the snake and Voldemort…he cut Neville's head off for it," said Harry, tears pouring down his face at the memory of Voldemort's cutting charm aimed at Neville's neck, slicing it clean off. He wished that he had been a better friend to Neville in their first few years at Hogwarts, and had gotten to know him for the brave soul he truly was.

He continued the story after a moment, quieter than before. "Then it was just me and Voldemort. Voldemort told the other Death Eaters to stay back and created a ward between us. I was the true master of the Elder Wand, having disarmed Draco who had disarmed you, so the wand didn't work for him. Voldemort's killing curse rebounded on himself and he died. The remaining Death Eaters all fled, probably scared that I would place the synchronicity curse on them as well. I didn't recognize most of them, they likely weren't all too loyal to the cause. I suppose they might have joined out of fear but who's to say. So basically," said Harry, pausing to control himself, "it's just me, those few that took their children away from the fighting, and a handful of Death Eaters that are left. And anyone else that stayed in hiding during the war and was just too spineless to help." Harry sounded bitter to his own ears.

"It's over," said Dumbledore, voice just barely above a whisper. "I had never thought— "

"That things would get this bad. I know," said Harry, not making eye contact.

"I'm so sorry, Harry," said Dumbledore, hanging his head. "If I had not left you in the dark about the prophecy for so long, we could have been more prepared."

Harry agreed silently but could not find the energy to fight with Dumbledore. He laid his head on the desk, facing away from Dumbledore's portrait, and wept.

Some time later, Harry awoke, not even realizing that he had fallen asleep. He stood up shakily and stretched his battered body. Harry looked over to Professor Trelawney, still sleeping on the bed, and wondered if he needed to do anything to aid in her recovery. He glanced at Professor Dumbledore's portrait. Dumbledore was awake and staring at him.

"Good morning," said Dumbledore, albeit not in a cheery tone.

Harry just nodded, not even able to return the sentiment. What was good about it?

"Do we need to do anything?" he said, jerking his head in Professor Trelawney's direction.

"No, she will sleep for a day or two, hopefully no longer than that. When she wakes, we will see if she needs any further attention," said Dumbledore, brow furrowed.

Harry nodded absentmindedly again.

"What will you do today?" said Dumbledore, in a tone that seemed just a little too casual.

He wondered if Dumbledore was afraid Harry would take a drastic step. It wasn't even as though that line of thinking was unwarranted. Harry had thought about ending his life. There wasn't much to live for but when he actually pictured doing it…he wondered what he would say to the disappointed looks on faces of his parents and friends. Not to mention Ginny's. She'd probably slap him. He almost smiled at the thought.

Sighing, he decided that he just couldn't do it…no matter how much he wanted to.

"I'm going to look for Teddy," said Harry. He glanced up at Dumbledore and, noticing the confused look on his face, clarified, "Teddy Lupin is Remus and Tonks' boy. I thought that Andromeda had stayed behind to look after him but I saw her body in the quad yesterday." Then, after a beat, he added, "I'm his godfather."

Dumbledore smiled, the first cheerful one since he'd seen Harry yesterday. "Try Arabella Figg. She and Andromeda were pretty good friends as they both occasionally helped out with the Order. And because Arabella is a squib—"

"She wouldn't have been involved in the battle," said Harry, interrupting Dumbledore. "Thanks," he said, with a small smile, "I'll go there now."

"Be careful though, Harry. While those Death Eaters might have fled in shock yesterday, it does not mean they will not try anything today."

If he were honest, he was almost hoping the Death Eaters would find him.

Harry apparated to Privet Drive, one of the places in the world he hated most, ranking just above the Ministry of Magic and just below the graveyard. He walked up to Arabella Figg's house. Looking behind him, he saw the state of Number 4 Privet Drive. It looked as though it had been ravaged by fire. The windows were broken and there was a sizeable hole in the roof. It looked as though it could collapse at any moment. Harry, no matter how much he hated them, was glad that the Dursleys had not been in the house when the Death Eaters had come.

Turning back around, he walked up the steps of Arabella Figg's house. It looked like the Dursleys house before the fire, with a few exceptions. It was perfectly manicured but the lawn gnomes looked like they were watching him as he walked up the steps. There was a porch that wrapped around the house, unlike at the Dursleys, and a few kneazles lounged about on it.

Harry wrapped his right hand around the brass door knocker and rapped on the door three times. Harry waited a few minutes for Mrs. Figg to arrive. He was about to knock again, when he heard her speak.

"W-who is it?" she said, stuttering slightly.

"It's Harry, Mrs. Figg. Harry Pot—"

She threw the door open before Harry could finish the sentence. "Harry!" she said, her face quickly morphing from happy to alarmed. "Dear, you look a fright." She hugged him lightly, as though he were made of glass.

Harry nodded when she let go, looking down at his grimy Muggle clothes. His jeans had holes in them and dirt coated the hems. His black shirt was stained with sweat and felt thoroughly disgusting. He knew that his face, and the multitude of scars and bruises that covered it, was what scared her about his appearance the most.

"Well, come on in then," she said, pulling him into the house. "I can't do any healing spells, obviously, but I do have a first aid kit if you want me to clean up some of those wounds. Would you like to take a shower, dear? I think I might have some clothes you can wear. You might have to transfigure them to fit though. How about some food, first? Hmm, let's see," she said, making her way to the kitchen. She began rummaging through the fridge while Harry took a seat at the table. He never remembered her being this friendly but, then again, back then she had had to pretend to be unpleasant so that the Dursleys continued to let her babysit him.

"I was actually looking for Teddy, Mrs. Figg," he said, "Dumbledore said Andromeda might have left him with you."

"Oh yes, Teddy is here. He's sleeping upstairs," she said absentmindedly, head still in the fridge. She then suddenly turned to look at him, a curious expression on her face. "But why didn't Andie come to get him? She said she would be back soo..." she trailed off. Then her eyes widened and she began to cry.

Harry sighed, knowing she had just realized that Andromeda was dead. "Yes, she's dead. Actually, a lot of people are dead, including Voldemort. There are very few of us left. The final battle," he sighed, lifting up his smudged glasses to rub his weary eyes, "was a bad one."

Her wails got louder and louder and Harry tried his best not to join her. However, he couldn't help but let a few tears slip out. She slumped down on the floor, hand still grasping the fridge door tightly, her knuckles white. He got up from his seat and moved to join her on the floor, closing the fridge door as he did, and removing her hand from it.

"I know this is tough," he said, still holding onto her hand, "but we must," he paused, trying to collect himself, "we must st-stay strong. For them. They wouldn't want us to be sad."

Mrs. Figg swiped at her eyes, hiccupping slightly, and nodded at him. "W-would you like me to clean up those wounds, d-dear?" she asked shakily.

He smiled at her slightly, "No, I'll wash up later, Mrs. Figg. I have to be going. I've got a few things left to do today." Then, he hesitantly added, "Is it alright if I take Teddy? Remus and Nymphadora named me his godfather before they passed." Harry didn't know if she would want to keep him with her or not but he wasn't going to shirk his duties as godfather. Harry would take care of Teddy as though he were his own son.

"Oh, sure dear," she said, patting his face lightly. "I'll go get him."

Harry stood up and helped Mrs. Figg off of the floor. She wiped her face again and slowly meandered her way out of the kitchen. Harry waited a few minutes for her, leaning against the kitchen counter. She walked back into the room holding an infant swaddled in a blue blanket to her chest. Stopping just in front of him, Mrs. Figg hugged Teddy tightly to her chest and whispered something in his ear before handing him to Harry.

Harry had never held an infant before and holding Teddy now felt awkward. He wondered, briefly, if Teddy were in better hands with Arabella. But looking at the sleeping infant, he just knew that Remus and Tonks wanted him to look after their son.

"Is it, er, okay if I come by every few days?" he asked Mrs. Figg, "For some help. It's just that I haven't been around children very much and—"

Mrs. Figg cut his rambling off, "Of course you can! I was hoping you would."

"Thank you," he said, smiling at her.

"Where are you staying? You could stay here, Harry. I have more than enough room," said Mrs. Figg, an earnest expression on her face.

"I'm staying at Bill Weasley's house. I can't stay here, Mrs. Figg. I have a few others under my care there and I can't leave them," he said.

"Oh, sure dear," she said, in a tone that conveyed that she understood but was also slightly disappointed.

Harry decided to change the subject. Looking down at Teddy, he said, "Is it okay if I apparate with him? I'm not even sure if that's okay with children."

"Oh, no dear," she said, horrified. "You cannot just apparate with him. His head is too fragile right now."

He thought about it for a second. How was he supposed to take Teddy to Bill and Fleur's house? He needed to check on Hermione. It had been days since he'd been able to see her and he wanted to know how she was doing.

Harry remembered the stories of how Hagrid had transported Harry as an infant from Godric's Hollow to Privet Drive, but Harry didn't have Sirius's motorcycle. He couldn't just fly on a broom with Teddy either. That seemed quite dangerous. Without anyone to fix it, the Floo network was still down. He couldn't get a portkey and didn't even know how to make one. Transporting Teddy seemed hopeless until Harry remembered that Fred and George used to make protective clothing by putting shield charms on them.

"Could I put a shield charm on his blanket and then apparate with him?" he asked Mrs. Figg. She was a squib but she knew the theory behind different types of magic.

She thought about it for a second. "That's a good idea, Harry," she said, a small smile on her face. "How'd you think of it?"

"A few friends of mine used to make protective clothing," he said, trying not tear up as he thought of the twins. Even in death they had helped him.

He passed Teddy to Mrs. Figg, who proceeded to remove his blanket and hat. She held him and handed Harry the blanket. He pulled his wand out of his pocket and proceeded to place three charms on the blanket. "Protego maxima….fianto duri….repello inimicum," he said, remembering how Fred and George had placed the charms on their clothing. A thin barrier appeared and surrounded the blanket. The barrier then seemed to dissolve into the material, becoming invisible a moment later. He then swaddled Teddy in the blanket again and performed the same charms on his soft, blue hat.

Holding Teddy in his arms once again, he said, "Goodbye Mrs. Figg. I'll see you soon."

"Goodbye Harry, goodbye Teddy," she said, waving as the two disappeared from sight.

Harry and Teddy appeared just outside Bill and Fleur's house. He checked on Teddy, just to make sure that the protective clothing worked, and, finding the boy still sound asleep, he began to walk up the steps to the door. It swung open before he could even knock.

"Master has come back," said Kreacher, the fake locket displayed proudly around his neck. He spoke in the same slow drawl as usual. "Master has brought something new."

"Kreacher, this is Teddy, my godchild," he said, walking through the door. "Can you make up a room to be his nursery?"

"Of course, Master," he said, slowly following behind him.

Harry went into the sitting room and placed Teddy on a sofa. Concerned that he might roll over and fall to the floor, he placed another protective barrier on the edge of the couch. He then turned back to Kreacher.

"How's Hermione?" he asked.

The elf's floppy ears turned downward. "She is in bed like everyday. She is being awake, Master, if you would likes to see her?"

"Yes, Kreacher. I would like that. Thank you for taking care of her," he said, with a small smile. Furrowing his brow, he said, "Is Ollivander still here?"

"He is be leaving this morning, Master," said Kreacher.

"Did he say where he was going?"

"No, Master," answered Kreacher.

Harry knew that Ollivander had been tortured at Malfoy Manor, that he was injured, and that fighting in the war might have hurt him further or probably even killed him…but he couldn't help the bitter feeling that clawed at his stomach at the man that stayed behind during the final battle and then just left in the morning. Harry knew that he couldn't be too upset, others had stayed away from the fighting as well. It was just hard.

"Thank you, Kreacher, you may go now. I'm going to see Hermione."

Kreacher just nodded. "I will go to clean a room for Master Teddy." With a pop, he disappeared.

Harry walked up the steps and into the room that had been designated for Hermione ever since the incident. Knowing that knocking would be useless, he opened the door slowly, hoping not to disturb her. Standing in the door frame, Harry forced himself not to cry as he looked at Hermione. She was lying on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. As he walked further into the room, she turned to look at him, a blank expression on her face. She didn't recognize him and hadn't said so much as a word since the incident. He could still remember her screams of pain as Bellatrix tortured her relentlessly.

He sat down on the chair next to her bed and smiled at her. "Hi, Hermione," he said. "How are you feeling?"

She did not respond but continued to look at him with unfocused eyes.

"We won the war, Hermione," he said, with a tiny smile that quickly morphed into a large grimace, "but we lost so many. I don't even know if it was worth it all."

She stopped looking at him and continued her inspection of the ceiling, possibly finding it more interesting than Harry.

Harry sighed, a bitter taste on his tongue. "I wish I could talk to you right now, to the real Hermione. The Hermione that was the brightest witch in our age. I need her," he said, pleading to the girl staring at the ceiling, his fingers tightly grasping the edge of her blanket. "I wish you could tell me a way to fix everything."

But this Hermione didn't know what to tell him, or, if she did, couldn't tell him. She was lost in her own world. Harry just hoped it was a happier world than the one they were actually in.

Later in the day, Harry decided to go back to Hogwarts. He left a still sleeping Teddy and an unresponsive Hermione in the care of Kreacher, and after asking him to set up a room for Professor Trelawney as well, apparated back to Hogwarts. He had decided to bring Professor Trelawney and Dumbledore's portrait back to Bill and Fleur's house so that he could keep an eye Professor Trelawney, Hermione, and Teddy at the same time.

The second he appeared in the Headmaster's office, Dumbledore called out to him. "Harry, did you find Teddy?"

"Yes," he responded. "You were right, he was with Mrs. Figg. How is Professor Trelawney?"

"About the same," he said with a sigh. "Where did you take Teddy?"

"He's back at Bill's house. I was thinking about taking you and Professor Trelawney there too," he said, pausing. "Is that alright? I know you might want to stay at Hogwarts but…this isn't really Hogwarts anymore, is it?"

Dumbledore sighed again, thinking about it for a moment. "I suppose you're right, Harry. I think it would be wise for me to help you with Sybil. But you are to return me to Hogwarts when she is alright. This is where I am meant to be, even if it is not the Hogwarts it once was."

Harry nodded in consent. He moved over to Professor Trelawney's bed and picked her up. "I'll come back for you in a moment."

He apparated to Bill and Fleur's house and placed Professor Trelawney into a small twin bed. He let Kreacher know that he had brought Professor Trelawney and then apparated back to Hogwarts without waiting for a response.

"Is there anything you want me to take from your office?" he asked Dumbledore when he appeared again.

Dumbledore looked around the office that had been his for as long as Harry had known him. He frowned as he thought. "There are a few things that I do not want to just leave here, such as the Sorting Hat. However, I was just thinking about the Hallows and the Sword of Gryffindor. What have you done with them?"

Harry hadn't even thought about those items. "Well, the Elder Wand is at Bill and Fleur's house. I just used it to repair my wand. I had handed my cloak and the Resurrection Stone to Neville for safekeeping before the final battle with Voldemort, and he had the Sword of Gryffindor as well."

"Harry, I think you should go get those items. There are still Death Eaters about and those items would be best out of the hands of those who would use them for evil," said Dumbledore, a grim expression colouring his face.

Harry agreed, nodding. "I'll go collect them, drop them off at the house, and come back for you."

Dumbledore nodded and with that Harry apparated once again, this time to the area just outside the quad where he and Voldemort had had their final battle. It was also where Voldemort had killed Neville. He spotted Neville's headless body immediately, his head a few feet away. Harry cringed but walked up to the body that was once one of his most loyal and courageous friends. He tried, with difficulty, not to gag at the scent of decaying flesh as he checked Neville's pockets. He quickly found the invisibility cloak and the resurrection stone. He pocketed them and picked up the Sword of Gryffindor at his side. He was about to leave, but looking at Neville, he decided that he couldn't just leave him there to decay.

"Defodio," said Harry, pointing his wand at the ground. The spell gouged the rock, creating a rather sizeable hole. Harry moved Neville's body and his head into the grave with his wand and covered the hole with the rocks.

Glancing back in the direction of the quad, Harry vowed that he would bury the other bodies another day. Each and every one of them. No one else would do it. The Ministry had fallen earlier in the war and Harry had remembered hearing on Potterwatch that Voldemort had used the building as a sort of base. Today, however, he needed to take these items to Bill and Fleur's house and get everyone situated into their new lives.

Picking up the sword again, he apparated once more to Bill and Fleur's house and then back again to Hogwarts. He felt weary from apparating so many times at once but he just needed to take Dumbledore's portrait back to the house. Grabbing Dumbledore's portrait, and ignoring his comment about needing to relax for a minute, Harry apparated again to Bill and Fleur's place.

As soon as they made it, Harry proceeded to pass out from sheer exhaustion.

Harry woke up much later, this time in a bed. He groaned at how sore his muscles were. Glancing out the window to his left, he noticed that it was still dark. He must have slept the rest of the day away. Staring out the window, his mind began to wander. And with that wandering came thoughts he did not want to think about.

He thought about Ron and how much he wished he could hear him talk about the Chudley Cannons.

He thought about Hermione and how much he wished that she would talk about house elf rights and whatever new fact she had learned that day.

He thought about Mrs. Weasley and how much he wished she could be here to help him with Teddy. She was the best mother he had ever known, the only real mother he had ever had.

His mind turned to Ginny before he could stop himself. Stop, he urged himself, stop! But her screams of pain were etched into his memory. Stop! Think of something else. He tried to remember running his hands through her soft silky hair, her uproarious laugh, and kind eyes but his mind kept going back to the screams.

Harry heard crying and looked towards the door. He swallowed the anxiety attack he had been about to have. Teddy probably needed a diaper change or a bottle. Harry wondered if Kreacher were sleeping… Shaking his head and remembering his vow to be a good godfather, Harry got up from the bed, his body groaning in opposition. He slowly shuffled out of his room and across the hall to the room Kreacher had told him was the nursery, his tired legs aching the entire way. Harry opened the door and walked over to the crib that Kreacher had installed.

Teddy lay there, crying so hard his face and hair had turned red. Harry picked him up and felt immediately that he needed a diaper change. Walking Teddy over to the changing table, Harry laid him down. He had no idea what he was doing and Teddy continued to wail while Harry floundered.

"I'm sorry, Teddy. I'm sorry. I know I'm awful at this and that you want your parents. Please give me a chance," said Harry, pleading with the infant.

As though Teddy could understand him, he stopped crying and his hair turned from red to blue. "Thank you, little one," said Harry. He blew out a breath he didn't know he was holding. His seventeen-year-old self felt so old right now.

Somehow, Harry ended up changing the diaper. It was a clumsy job but he had done it nonetheless. However, Teddy was still awake. Harry held him to his chest and, looking around the room, noticed a rocking chair in the corner. He sat down on it, marveling at the work Kreacher had done in just one afternoon, and began rocking Teddy back and forth. After a few minutes, he checked Teddy's face and found him still wide awake. Harry began to hum as well, hoping that it would be enough to put Teddy to sleep. Harry continued until he noticed that Teddy's breathing had evened out. He kept him to his chest still, finding comfort in the child.

"I'm so sorry, Teddy," Harry whispered. "I know what it's like to grow up without your parents or any other family and I'm so sorry. If I could do anything to bring your parents back, you should know that I would." Silent tears spilled out of Harry's eyes and his glasses fogged slightly.

Slowly getting up, Harry put Teddy back in the crib. He tried to quietly sneak out of the room but he accidently walked on a creaky step. Harry held his breath, praying that it hadn't woken Teddy up. He didn't hear any crying so he quickly, and more important quietly, made his way out of the nursery and into the hall. Harry glanced up at the clock that was in the hallway and noticed that it was now five in the morning. He hadn't realized just how long he had stayed in that rocking chair. It wouldn't be worth it going back to bed—he knew that he wouldn't be able to sleep—so he walked down the stairs to the kitchen, his sore muscles still aching with every step he took.

Harry began making a cup of tea, trying to relax himself. This is what the British do when they're upset, he told himself, now drink your tea and calm down. He made some toast to nibble on as well. He didn't think his stomach could handle more than that. He couldn't remember the last time he had eaten. Taking his plate and cup to the table, he sat down on one of the uncomfortable wooden chairs and began to slowly consume his breakfast.

"Master is being up early today," said Kreacher, appearing beside the table.

He nodded, "Yes, I slept the day away yesterday."

"And Master has made his own breakfast." He said this with a hint of disapproval.

Harry almost smiled. "I didn't want to bother you."

"It is never a bother to serve Master. Does Master need anything today?" Kreacher almost looked excited at the thought. He could never understand house elves and their desire to do chores.

Harry thought about it for a moment before he shook his head. "I don't think so, just your normal chores. I'll let you know if there's anything else you can do though. Thanks, Kreacher."

Kreacher nodded, disappearing with his usual pop.

Harry ate the rest of his toast in silence and then decided to take a much needed shower. He cringed slightly as he saw his reflection in the mirror but didn't bother with healing spells. The cuts and bruises would be a reminder of the battle, of all that he had lost. He was almost afraid of the day when they would fade, wondering if the memories would fade with time as well. Instead of clearing up the cuts with his wand, he wetted a washcloth and cleaned his face. He flinched in pain as the cold water touched the cuts. After spending a good deal of time in the shower, Harry got dressed in what he believed to be Bill's old robes, transfiguring them to fit better. Walking out of his room, he noted that it was a little past six in the morning. It was still pretty early but he thought he would just check in on Professor Trelawney to see if she was any better.

Harry slowly opened the door, poking his head in to see if she was awake. She was still sleeping, her chest heaving up and down quickly. Harry pushed the door open further, cringing at the creaking sound that it made. He walked into the room to the raised eyebrow of Albus Dumbledore. So this is where Kreacher placed Dumbledore's portrait, he thought.

"Couldn't sleep?" he asked Harry.

"I slept a lot yesterday," he said, waving off the comment. "How is she doing? Any difference?"

Dumbledore shook his head, a slight frown on his face. "Give it another day, I think."

Harry just nodded, taking a seat on the only chair in the room, which just happened to face Dumbledore's portrait.

"So…" started Dumbledore, "Any plans today?"

"Not really. I might go back to Hogwarts and begin burying the bodies," he said, sighing. "Someone's got to do it."

Dumbledore just nodded, at a loss for words.

Their attempt at small talk was cut off by a loud, shallow breath taken by Professor Trelawney. Alarmed, Harry moved to her side, grabbing her hand to check her pulse. Very suddenly, so suddenly that it startled Harry, Professor Trelawney shot up in bed, her eyes opening wide.

"Professor, are you—"

She started talking in a voice that didn't seem to belong to her. Harry was reminded immediately of her second prophecy about Peter Pettigrew. "The Master of Death will summon the one he has conquered using the tools he has done so with….They will make a deal bound in gold that could save all that the Master holds dear…but at a terrible cost."

Then her head hit the pillow and her eyes closed once again. Her chest continued to rapidly rise and fall as she breathed.

Harry glanced over at Dumbledore. He was sure that his own face mirrored the shocked expression on Dumbledore's face.

"What do you think it means?" asked Harry. "Summoning the one he has conquered," he quoted, furrowing his brow. "Does-does she mean Voldemort? Why would I want to do that?"

Dumbledore suddenly looked very uncomfortable.

"What?" asked Harry, confused.

"She…Harry," he huffed, "She means Death. Some of the lore states that if you put the Hallows together in the Deathly Hallows symbol, Death, the Grim Reaper, whatever you want to call him, will appear."

"Saving all that I hold dear," he said, sudden realization forming in his mind. "She means I could bring everyone back." They looked at each other in astonishment.

Then Dumbledore shook his head. "There is no way Death will just bring them all back, Harry. Besides, she said the deal would have a terrible cost. We have no idea what that could be. You are alive right now, you should be thankful for that."

"Thankful?" Harry said, shooting up from his chair. "Should I be thankful that I lost everything? That I am basically the last Wizard left who isn't a Death Eater. Professor Trelawney is dying. We both know it," he spat. "Hermione might as well be dead. You're a portrait for Merlin's sake. It's just me and Teddy, another child that will grow up without his family," he said, pulling at his hair angrily. Falling back into his chair, feeling like all of the energy was drawn out of him, he whispered, "I can give him back his parents. I can give them all back their lives. Don't you understand? I don't care what the cost is."

Dumbledore said nothing for a full minute. He looked down, not meeting Harry's gaze. Finally, he took a deep breath and lifted his head, locking eyes with Harry.

"Okay, Harry," he said. "Let's summon Death."

What do you guys think?