AN: Hibari's not my only favorite character; not too long ago, I discovered Giotto! Needless to say, he's another favorite of mine now, and I absolutely adore him! There aren't a whole lot of fanfiction crossovers between Harry Potter and KHR that include him, so it really motivated me to write this. It'll be my interpretation of how Primo formed the Vongola, as well as some involvement with his descendant, Tsuna! If I butcher the history as it's presented in the manga/anime, forgive me. I'm more familiar with the series now, but still not 100% on it.

Hope you enjoy, and don't forget to give me reviews!

Chapter One

When you think of heroes, what comes to mind? Captain America? War veterans? Your parents? Those who survive horrible situations, like the Holocaust, by simply not allowing themselves to become less than human? Whatever the case, the wizards and witches of Britain would not be considered among them. The majority were sheep, unwilling to risk themselves in a fight that might get them killed; they cried out for someone to save them while never lifting a finger for those who answered the call. A brave few stepped up, risked their lives and their families to fight, but they were few and far between.

The fight against Lord Voldemort was terrifying not because of the fatalities, but because of the all-consuming fear. No one, not even the great Leader of the Light, Albus Dumbledore, knew who was on their side or the Dark Lord's. No one suspected little Peter Pettigrew to be a traitor, a Marked Death Eater, and that led to more death and despair. But Dumbledore did just as much damage; he refused to give information that could have potentially saved hundreds, even thousands, of lives. He also never did anything to Voldemort while he was still a student in school, still known as Tom Riddle, and never allowed the Death Eaters to be killed, only captured.

Lily and James Potter were considered heroes; they fought against Voldemort three times and survived. They dared to have a family in such dark times. And finally, they died defending their only son, who was not even two. Harry Potter lived through a curse no one had ever been able to before, hailed as a Savior for something he could only remember in fragmented dreams. Then taken to an abusive household and left to survive as best he could for the next ten years.

Was Harry Potter a hero? Yes, most people would agree, but Harry himself would deny it. He was only doing what others would, taking a stand to stop a war that should've been ended by adults. (He never realized that most people wouldn't fight a war, which is how this got started in the first place.)

But instead of surviving the end of the Final Battle, reuniting with his best friend and marrying, making his own family, Harry Potter collapsed.

Harry Potter had always been small and skinny for his years, a direct result from malnutrition and abuse from his aunt, uncle, and cousin when he was young. And during the Horcrux Hunt, Harry hadn't been taking very good care of himself, refusing to slow down or rest for long because the longer this dragged on, the more people would be killed. And during the duel between himself and Voldemort, he had given all his energy and will into that fight, much more than he could afford to give. And when Voldemort's body laid on the ground at last, Harry collapsed as well.

They said, when everything died down afterwards, that there was a small smile on his face.

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Harry opened his eyes, blinking in confusion. It was blindingly white, white and empty. Harry got up, looking around at the King's Cross Station that he had been to once before. Only this time he was alone, no piece of soul or Dumbledore coming to talk to him. So Harry wrapped a clean robe around himself and sat down on a bench nearby.

Why was he here?

There were no sounds, even breathing. all Harry could do was think, trying to come up with an explanation as to why he was there. He wasn't a Horcrux anymore; there was no Voldemort to tie him to life. So why wasn't he in the afterlife with his parents, Remus, and Sirius? Didn't he deserve it after all the hell he'd been through in seventeen years of life?

Footsteps broke the monotonous silence, and Harry's head jerked up. The figure was male, with messy black hair and glittering hazel eyes. A smile was on James Potter's face as he looked at his son, a son he hadn't seen since he was a baby.

"Dad?" Harry whispered.

"Harry," James said. "I'm so proud of you."

Harry broke. Tears running down his face and sobs tearing themselves out of his mouth, the teenager threw himself into his father's arms. James embraced him, making soft comforting noises and stroking his son's black hair. He could only imagine the emotions running around Harry's mind. And when Harry's crying and slowed and then stopped, James gently sat down on the bench Harry had claimed before he'd appeared, resting his son's head on his shoulder.

"You know, I had to fight your mum, Padfoot, and Moony to come and talk to you," James whispered conspiratorially. Harry let out a soft laugh, emerald eyes wide.

"Really?" He had the funniest image of his dad dueling the rest of the family all at once.

"Yeah; Sirius kept wailing about how he needed to see his little Prongslet and tell you how much of a moron you were for not taking enough care of yourself. Lily quite agreed, so at least you're spared that horror."

Harry laughed, burrowing deeper into his dad's embrace. "But... if I really died killing Voldemort for good, and there's no Horcrux and Dark Lord to tie me to life, why am I here instead of with you, Mum, and everyone else?"

Fingers carded through Harry's messy black hair, and James let out a sigh. "It's...a little complicated, but I'll try to explain it. A major part of it is because... well, it's because of the Hallows. I didn't know until we died 16 years ago, but Death is an actually entity. And-"

James was interrupted by a cold, sharp wind that picked up suddenly. Harry and James tried to keep their hair out of their eyes, watching with amusement (James) and astonishment (Harry). When the wind finally died down, a tall figure wearing a robe made of shadows stood before the two wizards. No hint of the figure's face could be seen underneath the hood, and one skeletal hand clutched a tall other hand was hidden in the folds of the cloak. And the aura of the figure was that of bitter cold, of the eternal sleep that eventually claims all living things, the feeling of the grave. This was Death.

"Ah... so my Master finally joins us," Death said. Its voice was the snapping of bones, the crunching of dry, dead leaves in winter, and the sorrow of loved ones left behind. But there was also the hidden tones of the comfort of the eternal sleep.

Harry stood, facing Death at last. "I'm sorry you had to wait," Harry said, for lack of anything else to say.

Death laughed, quite a terrible sound, if Harry was being honest. "Quite the sense of humor. But... getting to the reason you are here... has your father explained it to you?"

Harry shook his head. "He just said that it had something to do with the Hallows, and that was when you showed up."

Death inclined its head. "James Potter is quite right. From the moment you accepted the Resurrection Stone and used its power, when you grasped the Elder Wand after killing Tom Riddle, and when you held the Invisibility Cloak in your hands at 11 years old, you became my Master. If this had not happened, you would be living your life, sent back to that world if killed. But now... things are different. I could still send you back to your Wizarding World if you so wish, you could go with your father to the afterlife, or there is a third option."

Death's scythe slashed through the air in anger. "Your childhood was robbed from you; your innocence taken before you could enjoy it. And while I am Death, I must admit to being fond of children, so I will make this option for you. I will send you to a different reality, one where you can fully live your life and enjoy your childhood at the pace you were supposed to. Of course, you will face pain, and suffering, there will be times where you may lose your life. But you have the opportunity to have a family. What will you choose?"

Harry was stunned. Another life? Or go to the afterlife with his father? As he bit his lip in thought, James stood and faced his son. "Harry... I think you should take it." Harry looked at his father in shock. James smiled. "Sure, we all want to meet you in the afterlife, but we can wait a few more years. Take this chance and live a good life; and for Merlin's sake, don't die at 17 again!"

All Harry could do was stare at his father, until James drew him into another hug. "We will always love you, and we want you to enjoy your life. So take Death's offer and get a pretty girl, alright?"

Harry let out a choked laugh and nodded weakly. Death lifted his scythe and slammed it on the ground once, cracks appearing in the pure white stone. "So it shall be," Death rumbled. Harry gave one last hug to his father before being swept away, hoping that his next life would be better than this one was.

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In a small city in Italy, a proud, exhausted mother with soft blond hair smiled as she looked upon her son. Call it a mother's intuition, but she knew that her baby boy was going to be magnificent.

"Your name will be Giotto. Giotto di Vongola."

Hopefully that explains some things. I don't know what Giotto's last name is, so in this story, 'Vongola' is his family name. Deal with it. I am just a sucker for the 'Harry-dies-and-is-reborn-as-KHR-characters' stories, though. And Giotto is just as sexy as Hibari.

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