Undead Awakening

Disclaimer: I do not own any of J.K Rowling's works, plots or characters etcetera. Everything belongs to her and her affiliates.

Summary:

What if when Sirius fell through the veil, Harry's only thought was to bring him back? What if he resorted to ancient, dark time magic, long since forgotten? When he does, everything goes pear-shaped for Harry, and he finds himself back, in his cupboard, at age ten, soon to be eleven. Harry sees it as a second chance. And you can be damn well sure that he'll make the most of it. But what if that time magic, unlocked a dark ability that Dumbledore would rather keep secret?

A/N

This idea came to me a while ago when I noticed that there wasn't that many necromancer harry fics out there. For those of you that want to see a dark, undead raising Harry, you should give this fic a try. Reviews, ideas and constructive criticism are welcome. I have a bad case of writers block for Inner Darkness, and thus this story will be updated until I regain the desire to continue writing Inner Darkness. After the short prologue the story will begin from first year, and rest assured Sirius will be making an appearance well before third. Oh, and this won't be slash. Have nothing against it, but it won't be happening in this story. R & R!

*Parseltongue*

"Speech"

'Thoughts'

"Sirius!" Harry screamed as he saw his godfather hit with a stunner from Bellatrix, which pushed him through the veil of death. As soon as he lost sight of his godfather, Harry's rational thoughts disappeared, and it was replaced with a burning, hot anger and need for revenge.

Harry tuned Lestrange's mad cackling out as he ran to the veil, contempt to rush after Sirius, his only tie to his family, only to be stopped by Remus Lupin. The werewolf was also in a state of shock, but knew he had to stop Harry, and thus wrapped Harry in a tight embrace, whispering soothing words to Harry in an attempt to calm him.

This proved to be a futile attempt, as Harry could only think of how Sirius was gone, his last living tie to his parents, practically gone forever. And if he was gone, then why should Harry stay behind? Loathsome as he was to admit it, he had grown tired of weathering the storm that was the wizarding world, with their constant need to change their tune. One second, he was everyone's saviour, the next he was a maniacal child that indulged in homicidal activities. It had pushed Harry to the edge, and even as a little voice at the back of his mind reminded him of his friends, a bigger voice said that they wouldn't miss him at all.

And with that final thought Harry broke free from Remus' grip and ran into the Veil, Plunging him into an everlasting darkness.

"Wake up child..." Harry frowned as a raspy voice whispered in his ear. It sounded ancient and somewhat menacing, and Harry felt compelled to do as it said. Slowly, he dared to open his eyes, and hastened to shut them again once he was assaulted with a barrage of images, hurting his sensitive eyes, which caused him to gasp in pain. Vaguely remembering that someone else was in this... place, Harry determinedly opened his eyes again, and to his relief found that he could see quite easily still, although spots were still dancing in his vision. As Harry took in his surroundings, he finally took notice of the dark shrouded figure that stood menacingly at the supposed corner of the room. He certainly looked dangerous, with the dark mist that was gathering around him, and the deadly looking scythe that he was currently twirling in his right hand. He could vaguely see writing on the hilt and strained his eyes before the figure stopped twirling the damned scythe.

'Necromantia?' what could that possibly mean? It sounded vaguely familiar, most likely from some Ancient Runes textbook that he'd seen Hermione read, it sounded like Latin, but Harry couldn't be positive.

"It is Latin, young one." The figure spoke again in the same raspy tone as before, and although he appeared weak, Harry had noticed the dark undertone that accompanied the individuals voice. Upon hearing that Harry's guess had been correct he smiled smugly in triumph, pleased to know that he had been right about the language, but just as quickly, the smile vanished and Harry knew that he had paled slightly.

"H-How did you know what I was thinking?" Harry stammered, tripping over his words.

"Legillimency can be very useful... Sometimes..." The Mysterious person seemed to be regretful as he said this, and when Harry made to interrupt in order to ask a question, he pointed to his own head before pointing towards Harry's, Effectively cutting off whatever the wizard was going to say.

"Legillimency is the offensive form of the mind arts, which allows one to enter another's thoughts. The only counter being Occulemency, which is of course, the defensive form. It allows one to keep a leash on their emotions which can prove to be rather useful with magic, and it also allows one to guard their mind against Legillimens users. And that, Mr Potter is how I knew what you were thinking. And before you ask your second question, Necromantia, in English, is the lost and forgotten art of Necromancy. It is a rare art, and only a handful of great wizards, long before your time and Voldemort's have ever been able to learn it."

As the figure spoke, his voice seemed to grow more serious, and Harry felt excited and nervous about whatever the individual was going to say next, as Harry had picked up on the clues about necromancy.

"Now, onto formal introductions, Mr. Potter my name is Mors, but you would know me by another name. Death. You are a special individual Mr. Potter, and stepping through the Veil was a reckless course of action. However, I have decided to give you an offer. You can either continue on your way to Death, and join your parents and godfather. Or, you can start from the beginning, just before your eleventh birthday. If you do choose the second option I will bestow you with the following gifts. As you may have guessed, by my less than subtle hints. You will be able to perform the art of Necromancy, which is yours by right, as you are in fact, my magical heir. Second, you will retain your current magical core, which will merge itself with your other core. This in itself is a great gift, and should you accept, I will caution you to act wisely, but I am proud to have you as my heir Harry, and I will never truly be disappointed with you. Finally, I will allow you to have three animagus forms; compared to the two you would have, if you'd continued your life in this time period's wizarding world. That is my offer Harry. Now, which will you choose?"

As Harry's eyes widened at the ever-growing list of gifts that Death had allowed him, his mind finally settled on one thought. This was his second chance. This was his chance to make everything better. Thinking of Sirius, Harry's eyes hardened with grim determination as he said his answer.

"Thankyou Mors. I'll take you up on your second offer." Mors smirked silently as Harry answered, and nodded his head, before sending Harry back, through time, to the beginning of Harry's magical life.

A/N

This is only short so as to provide a small beginning for the story. Next chapter will be up by soon as I have already typed it up. Enjoy this small tidbit, and look forward to another chapter!