Chapter One-

Potions Wonder Boy

Disclaimer: This all belongs to J. Rowling and J.R.R Tolkein- I'm just borrowing them.

For the second time in his life, Harry found himself standing upon the platform of a train station, which was disturbingly reminiscent of Kings Cross. The only difference was that this time the place was considerably busier and he found himself wondering whether it was really just an extended metaphor. He also hadn't arrived after an epic encounter with an evil Dark Lord.

No, this time it was an exploding cauldron that had defeated Harry Potter, Head of the Department of Aurors and prior to his now very dead state- The Boy Who Lived. It was all very annoying. He hadn't gone near one of the things for years, and then when he does- "BWAM!"

Years of hard work, defeating Voldemort and surviving the woeful time when his children had been going through the Terrible Twos were wasted. Great, they would never let him live this one down. Snape was definitely laughing in his grave, he'd probably mock Harry when he saw him. Would he be here?

He might be. Harry didn't hate the man anymore, but he definitely wasn't fond of him either.

Oh gods, Ginny was going to kill him. She had threatened to throw that cauldron out countless times, and to intimately harm him if she found him tinkering with it. Or in the same room as it. Or looking at it. Thinking about it was out of the question. Should would know. Somehow, she always knew.

And he just had to blow himself up on the day he promised to take Lilly Luna to her ballet lessons. Damn. Hopefully the silver lining would be that his death could serve as a spiritual enlightenment upon her quest to permanently deform her feet. Just maybe, and that would be nice. Make him feel useful.

He could practically see the headlines now, front page of the Prophet- "Hung Over Saviour Commits Suicide". It would probably be used as part of an education class on the Dangers of Alcohol at Hogwarts for years after. How embarrassing. Still, it might serve as some conciliation to Hermione, if her he was one the curriculum and not just stuck in the library books. Modern Magical History, The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts, and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century, to be precise.

The train station was teeming with other people- many looking a little lost, in a slightly dishevelled state. Although none looked very...dead. That is, there weren't any tremendously old people hanging around, finally at peace, or people with missing limbs or pieces hanging off of them. Harry assumed those sorts of things were repaired in the afterlife, self-consciously patting his sides confirmed the sweater he'd put on that morning was now whole, which felt nothing like the burning flesh he could last remember.

There were also greeting parties, some people even had boards with last names on like in cheesy films, (which he of course did not watch being a mature, manly kind of man). Individuals standing around, with gloomy expressions on their faces and wandering aimlessly like jellyfish would suddenly perk up when they spotted someone familiar.

Although, there didn't seem to be anyone waiting for him.

When he was younger this might have given him a twang of hurt and disappointment but now he shrugged it off with no more than a grumbled, "Ungrateful gits". It was odd, the longer he was here...the more hazy he felt, like his emotions were standing a few metres away and not really trying. Maybe some would find it pleasant, but it was beginning to make him increasingly claustrophobic. He wondered if it was a mechanism in place to prevent hysterical outbursts, or whether it was a natural side effect?

There was really no reason to wait around and listen to people desperately searching through their luggage, worrying about where they left their ticket or reminiscing with a loved one. So he boarded the train in front of him, which was pleasantly quiet compared to the others. He didn't give much thought as to why it would be quieter. After all, everyone here was dead so they were all going to same place.

Right?

A/N: This story is very short, amateur and purely for fun.

*I'm currently carrying out a huge overhaul here, since I decided I really hate lines mid chapter. If you've already been reading this then things might look really weird. It might read a bit odd too, since it's been such a long time since I did any work on this.

The overhaul is the only way I can think of too motivate myself to finish this now I've made a commitment to it. Thanks so much for your support, if I forget to reply to a review it doesn't mean I don't appreciate because I really, really do. Of course, if I make everyone hate this then I'm really sorry but I have to complete it even if I'm the only one still interested. :)