Chapter 1: The Master of Death
"Hello, Harry."
Opening his eyes, Harry Potter found a gaunt figure draped in smokey robes standing before him. Pale gray skin clung tight to his skin, eyes large and black with pooled blood, a visage worthy of Death, yet giving no fear to the ancient wizard. There was no fear in Harry, only a sense of relief now the aches of age were gone, making it easier to stand.
Glancing behind him, Harry found his bed occupied by an old man laying alone, a somber smile on his lips as his hand rested on the empty pillow beside him. Of course he would feel pity for himself, but he knew all the man had been through, how long he'd hoped for this.
Turning to Death he asked, "What now? Hopefully I've managed to avoid anything too hot, hm?"
Death's mouth curved into a wry smile. "There isn't much of that."
"No?" Harry crossed his arms. "No hell or anything?"
"No anything," Death nodded, "at least not for everyone else."
The wrinkles in Harry's brow deepened. "What does that mean?"
"It means you are a true Master of Death, Harry Potter." Death extended a lithe hand to the elderly man. "Come."
Harry had thought a long time about things like this, yet he was surprised when he took his hand and watched the world around him be pulled away like a veil. To Harry's shock, beyond it stood Privet Drive, the street illuminated by the street lights and moon reaching its apex.
"When one dies they live a final moment that is the culmination of their life," Death told him as he withdrew his hand from Harry's and glanced toward Number Four. "The life they live determines what they find in their final moment."
Harry quickly looked to Death, meeting his black eyes as he asked, "Ginny?"
"Peace," Death assured with a solemn nod. "However, a Master of Death is different."
The knot in Harry's chest eased as he exhaled. "What do you mean different?"
Death's smile softened. "A Master of Death does not fade, friend. Not completely. A piece of them can live again."
Harry looked from the robed figure to the house the house before them. For a moment he felt indignant, wondering if this was hell after all. He'd lived with these people enough for one lifetime. There had to be more to it.
"So I start over from here?"
"Not start over, no," Death answered. "You'll find your peace, but a piece of you will live on in the you of this world, which isn't entirely the same as yours."
Harry's brow furrowed, looking to Privet Drive. "What's different?"
"As of yet things are mostly as you know them, though small things tend to pile into larger ones over time. For instance, by morning the you of this world will die." When Harry's gaze turned to him, Death continued, "Of course, while his soul would fade, his body would live on with another taking its place."
"The Horcrux." For a moment he felt sick, but then shook his head and looked to Death. "Is this…" He hesitated, thinking back to his meeting with Dumbledore after the Horcrux within him had been destroyed. This could all be some thing he was dreaming up in his dying moments or something.
"It's not the world you lived in, but it is real," Death answered. Raising a hand, he extended a finger and pressed it to Harry's forehead as he spoke, "And this is what will become of it should we choose to leave it."
In a flash Harry saw the horror of the world left in Voldemort's hands. A snake using his body to gain power until he controlled the world. He saw it all, from the moment Vernon came to wake him in the morning to the moment his body was destroyed, transferring the Horcrux in him to another a century later.
When Death pulled his finger away, Harry met his gaze. If Harry wasn't dead he was sure he'd be sick after all he'd seen. It was every nightmare he'd ever had, everything anyone had ever feared he might become made true.
"I accept," said Harry.
With a nod, Death pressed his finger to Harry's chest.
It was enough to startle him awake, making Harry sit up and rub his head. In the dark of the cupboard he sniffled and pulled the blanket around himself. He felt even worse than he had when he went to sleep, sorrow sitting in the pit of his stomach alongside what little didn't sat in the bucket beside him.
For a moment it felt like another dream not unlike the one he often had of the giant man on the flying motorcycle. Of course, Hagrid was only half giant.
"What?" Harry said quietly, wondering how he had known the name. The more he thought on it, it turned out he knew a lot of things. He knew impossible things.
He clutched his lightning bolt scar more out of habit since his entire head hurt. It felt like he was drowning in memories of another life. It felt like his brain was being transfigured.
By the time it had ended, Harry had emptied his stomach into the bucket beside him and found himself feeling better and worse all at once. Better because it felt like the sickness had been burned away, and worse because he could almost feel the Horcrux attached to him like a parasite.
His stomach sank again when he heard the thump of heavy footsteps and a moment Vernon Dursley pounded on the cupboard door. "You still sick, boy?"
Harry felt his stomach turn over, but not from sickness. "No."
The door opened and Vernon leaned down to look inside. "Then go clean off and make yourself useful." Harry stared at him a moment before starting to crawl out of the cupboard. He barely made it halfway before Vernon pointed to the bucket. "Clean that too."
Harry flushed everything he'd vomited up before closing the lid and sitting on it while setting the bucket down. His hands slid through the tangle of black hair atop his head as he stared at the bucket. It took him a moment to take a breath and the bucket, watching as he tried to focus his magic and transfigure it into a stag statue.
The victorious laugh he let out when it changed was cut off as he watched the statue continue to transform, growing twice as large as he intended and warping into a malformed, unrecognizable mass of metal. With a glance to the door he groaned and raised his hands, taking another breath and pressing his hands against the twisted metal. He watched it reform back into a bucket. Thankfully he doubted the Dursleys would notice he came out with a bucket that was a slightly different size and color than he's taken with him.
It felt like Harry's mind was in a fog of questions throughout the day, but there was one thing that he knew for sure. He wasn't staying here a day longer.
He waited until after dinner before approaching the Dursleys in the sitting room and asking, "Can the spare room be mine?"
All three looked incredulous at the question while Vernon answered, "Absolute not."
"I've been sick every day the last week in the cupboard," Harry said motioning to his cupboard, "I'm sitting in all my germs so I stay sick."
"It is a guest room," Vernon said with a snort, "and you are not a guest of this house."
"Exactly, I'm supposed to live here not be-"
"It is not your room!" Vernon got up and made his way over to Harry, grabbing the boy by his shoulder and pulling him toward the cupboard. "This is your-"
Vernon screamed when Harry suddenly grabbed one of his fingers and bent it back until he felt the bone snap. Vernon's eyes bulged and he swung his hand at Harry, who looked so startled that he froze, letting it slam into his cheek.
Stumbling back as Petunia rushed over to Vernon's side, Harry made a show of clutching his cheek and looking startled and upset. "I hate you people," he said pulling his hands to his side and glaring at them. "I hate you all. I wish I could go home!"
At that he felt the familiar twist of apparition as he left Privet Drive and appeared in his childhood home. He quickly regretted not having worked up some reason for a coat as he felt a sharp chill coming through the ruined home as snow fell. But he couldn't worry about that now, he had to make sure he was startled but trying to hold it together. It would hold up better.
He stumbled around the room looked scared of what had happened, contemplating yelling for help before he seemed to realize he was in an unfamiliar house with a giant hole blasted through it. Putting his hands over his mouth he carefully made his way through the house before coming to the sign out front which said the cottage had been preserved as a monument to the Potters along with some graffiti which had his name, though not as much as the first time he'd come here with Hermione.
Looking startled by what he saw, Harry looked around before settling his gaze on his next target, the home of Bathilda Bagshot.
When she answered the door Bathilda was shocked to find a seven year old boy stood with his arms wrapped around himself and snow piling in his black hair. "E-Excuse me, M-Miss," he said through chattering teeth, "I-I don't know where I am."
"Come inside," she said waving him out of the cold. Once he was in and she closed the door, she turned to him asking, "What do you mean you don't know where you are?"
"I was… I was arguing with my aunt and uncle, but then suddenly I was in that broken house. I've never been here before but… it had my name on it."
"Your name?" The woman looked him over and held back a gasp. "What's your name?"
"Harry Potter," he said with a frown. To his relief she was as shocked as he'd expected, ushering him in and making him cocoa to warm him while she sneaked off to floo for help.
If it had been some auror who showed up to help him, Harry might have played it differently, but seeing Albus Dumbledore walk into the room with Bathilda made Harry failed to hold back a wry smile.
He tried to play it off as him being polite to a funny looking old man, carefully putting down his cup. "I'm sorry for interrupting, Mr. Bagshot."
Bathilda scoffed while Dumbledore chuckled. "My name is Albus Dumbledore, Harry, not Bagshot. I hear you've had some trouble and are lost?"
Harry nodded, then froze and looked down guiltily. "I-I…"
The two adults shared a look before Albus walked to sit on the couch opposite Harry. "It's okay, Harry. You can tell me what happened."
"I… I was with my aunt and uncle. They were yelling, trying to put me back in the cupboard even after I've been sick all week," he said noting the shocked look Bathilda wore compared to Dumbledore's frown. "I didn't want to go back, I just… I said I wanted to go home, and then I was in that house with my name out front."
Bathilda looked to Dumbledore as the headmaster nodded. "Harry, had you ever seen that house before?"
"In my-" Harry froze and looked down again.
"Albus," Bathilda whispered incredulously.
Dumbledore glanced back at her and slid forward slightly. "Harry, there's nothing to be afraid of. You can tell me."
"I can't," Harry said shaking his head as he looked to Dumbledore. "Whenever I talk about my dreams they always yell and lock me up until I'm so hungry I think I'll die or I… I wet myself, and then I have clean that up too."
Harry felt pathetic playing it up so much, but he knew Dumbledore was set on making him go back there, and Harry wasn't going to have it this time. He wasn't going to waste another day with the Dursleys.
"Albus," Bathilda snapped at the man.
Albus looked ashamed as he shook his head, taking a breath before he looked to Harry. "Harry, I promise, you don't have to be afraid. You say you saw it in a dream?"
"I-I did," Harry said reluctantly. "I was little, but it was like I could see everything. I saw a woman… I-I think she was my mom. She was there," the smile he wore faded as he continued, "but there was this other person there. Not my dad, he was downstairs. The rat man was with him. It was the snake who hurt her, and then when he tried to hurt me he got hurt."
Bathilda gasped as Dumbledore's brow sank. "Rat man?"
"He wasn't a rat this time though. Not like with other man. He just showed the snake man where we were. It wasn't like when he blew up the people."
Dumbledore sat up and Harry found a bit of joy in the man's baffled expression, minimal as it was. "I'm sorry, Harry, but you explain what you mean?"
"I…" Harry averted his gaze, frowning when he looked to Dumbledore. "You're really not going to get mad, even if… even if it involves magic? You won't throw me out?"
Before Dumbledore could speak, Bathilda stepped forward shaking her head. "Absolutely not. Say whatever you like and I swear we won't be mad."
Harry looked from her to Dumbledore before shifting back a bit and nodded. "Okay. The rat man, he was arguing with this other man. He was… his hair was black like mine but he wasn't my dad. I think he was a friend or something, because he was talking about them, but then the little man he got angry and blew up a lot of people around them using… using magic."
He could see the pieces clicking into place for Dumbledore. "Then, when they were dead, the little man cut off his finger for some reason and threw it away before turning into a rat and running away to live with the red family."
Dumbledore's brow rose as Harry finished. "The red family?"
Harry wore a somber smile as he thought of the Weasleys and nodded. "They're this big, happy family. There's lots of them, and all of them have red hair. The rat man went to live with them as a pet."
Bathilda looked to Dumbledore. "Albus, do you think he means-"
"Harry," Dumbledore said gently, "do you have dreams like this a lot?" When Harry shrugged, Dumbledore leaned his head slightly to meet his gaze.
Harry frowned as he felt the brush of legilimency on his mind. He was disappointed to know Dumbledore would use it on him, but not surprised. He'd been ready for this, gracefully redirecting Dumbledore straight to what he wanted him to see. It had been a long time since he got a handle on occlumency and had only refined it over his long life. With that knowledge he was able to redirect Dumbledore's intrusion without him knowing.
Once he found memories linked to Harry's claims, Dumbledore asked, "Are there any other dreams like that you can think of?"
Harry looked like he was thinking before nodding. "The one about the big man on the flying motorcycle. I drew it once in class and Aunt Petunia and uncle Vernon yelled at me."
Bathilda shot a glare at Dumbledore, who frowned and rose from his seat. "Pardon me a moment, Harry. Please enjoy your cocoa and biscuits."
"Is it magic?" Harry asked as Dumbledore turned to leave, stopping him. When he turned around Harry asked with a somber expression, "Am I some kind of wizard?"
Dumbledore nodded grimly. "Yes, you're a wizard, Harry, as am I and many others. But you must keep it a secret from those who do not share our abilities. Understand?"
Harry nodded, turning to look thoughtful as he picked up his mug and drank. He tried to look lost in thought as Dumbledore left the room with Bathilda, straining his ears to listen to their whispered voices.
"That boy is not leaving this house to return to whatever dungeon you left him in," Bathilda told the headmaster.
"Bathilda, please, you have to-"
"Don't you dare," Bathilda snapped. "Do you really think Lily or James would want this? Their son locked away in the cupboard, messing himself and starving?"
"There are certain-" Harry wished he could see the look Bathilda must have given Dumbledore to make him stop short. "I'll place what wards I can for the night." with a sigh he told her, "I'll need to contact Scrimgeour. If Harry's dreams are right, then we've made a grave mistake."
Bathilda walked back into the room a moment later with a genial smile. "Harry, you can stay here tonight if you like."
"Really?" Harry asked doing his best to look hopeful.
"Of course. I'll prepare the guest room for you. Have you eaten?"
Harry nodded. "I cooked dinner before everything."
Bathilda frowned. "Let me know if you want anything at all."
Harry smiled as he heard the floo and shook his head, drinking more cocoa. No, he had everything he needed. The only thing left was decided how to use it all.
Notes:
This is a story I had a brief idea for while reading some other fics that kind of warped and stretched into something I thought could be pretty fun.
Originally I intended to make this a Harry/Ginny story since I like them, and even wrote a sixth year fic about the couple ages ago before the sixth book had even come out. However the more I thought about it the less interesting it seemed, especially when stuff like HP and the Nightmare of Future's Past is already a pretty great Harry/Ginny peggy sue fic.
When I considered taking out the Weasleys I realized I can keep a lot of the beats I wanted to hit later while also adding a few interesting ones. I actually quite like the Weasleys and hate the idea of not writing them, so don't expect any bashing of them here. If anything Snape, Dumbledore and Draco will be the ones getting some shade.
Ships aren't quite set yet, but it won't be Harry/Hermione, I have ideas for their ships but haven't decided if I want to stick with them just yet. The rest will most likely be mostly canon ships and something like Sirius Black/Hestia Jones.
