Just a quicky oneshot, nothing too far reaching... well, I guess that's a matter of opinion. Whatever, this is a story about what happens when cannon Harry dies...

Kuta, out!

I DO NOT OWN POTTER!


Easier And More FUN Than Falling Asleep.

Harry opened his eyes slowly and took stock of his situation. He felt no pain from his old Quiditch injury back in '05 and his arthritis was finally leaving him the hell alone. He had on his old glasses from the war and his bladder was fully under his control again. He was sitting underneath a domed roof with steel support girders holding it up securely.

He looked around at his environ and realized that he was no longer in St. Mongo's elderly ward, he was in what appeared to be King's Cross station.

"So," He muttered happily to himself. "Finally kicked the bucket... Well, I suppose it's time to find a train then." He stood somewhat slowly, not yet fully realizing that he was young once more, as Sirius and Lupin had been when he'd used the Resurrection Stone before facing Voldemort the second to last time.

He saw no deformed, writhing mass this time around and looked about for a train to board. Seeing a sign telling him where to go to find a ticket seller, he figured that to get on a train he'd need a ticket. He'd soon found a seller and was surprised at who was behind the glass.

"Welcome to the After-life Station." Stan Shunpike said in his usual bored voice. "Please come up with a better analogy for passing on if you get reincarnated, this is humiliating, I haven't sold a ticket since 2001. Here's your ticket." Harry almost laughed at this feeling better then he had in decades. He quickly ran down and saw the barrier between platforms nine and ten and so ran towards them, eager to be on with this.

However, just before he would have hit, a gentle hand gripped his shoulder and turned him about. "Now, now Harry, you'd best not run about like this, you could have hurt yourself." Said a voice Harry'd not heard in over four decades. He looked up tearfully into the face of Molly Weasley nee Prewett.

"Hey, Mrs. Weasley," Harry choked out as he gave her a tight hug. "I don't suppose you could help me find the train? I want to go home."

Molly smilled kindly and lead him along to platform six, there-standing the train. In front of it were all of the various people Harry had managed to out live. Ron and Ginny at the forefront (Hermione having outlived them all.) Next to his parents Sirius and Lupin. The rest of the Weasleys were just behind with Moody, both Dumbledores, Severus and Cedric of all people close by. Harry grinned and rushed forward towards his extended family and caught up Ginny and Ron in a hug. After the joyous out cries and hugs were exchanged between all appropriate people were over with and Harry was in better control Harry looked around for Snape, Harry then turned to him and walked forward. They looked at each other and stood silent for a moment.

Harry moved first, sticking a hand out to shake. Snape looked somewhat surprised at this and hesitantly gripped Harry's hand. "What, Potter," He said with a distinct lack of his usual venom. "No railing at me for some grade you didn't like?"

"As if I'd do that to a man I named one of my sons after." Harry answered to the shock of all but Ginny and Ron.

Snape looked at him incredulously and sputtered while a number of people shouted at Harry for naming a kid of his after Snape of all people... Sirius and James amongst them. Snape asked a question after they'd all calmed down. "Why?"

"You're a man who I would have my son emulate, sir, if not in his life choices or treatment of his students- should he have any- then at least for your final few moments." Severus looked touched at that and Lily smiled along with Albus and Ginny. Most of the rest of the gathering was just confused. Harry chuckled a little as he turned to them. "I'll explain once we're on the train... I want to go home."


And Now I've got the Story Out of My head, which is Quite The Good Thing.

Review and tell me how you like it.