Author's Note:

I have decided to do a complete rewrite of my story, Reboot. I'm deleting the old one and putting this one up because… hell, I dunno what came over me, to be honest. But I think this will be a little more, oh, I don't know, realistic? Possibly? Yes. Let's go with that. There won't be (much) Weasley bashing here, hopefully, and I've changed lots of things in between. I hope you enjoy.

My take on the challenge issued by "Reptilia28".

Verbatim:

A funny little challenge I just came up with. It's a comical twist on the time-travel category.

STORYLINE:

*Harry is killed at 17 during a fight with Voldemort. He's sent to his Death's office (explained later) and finds out that this isn't the first time that this has happened.

*Harry's Death (who can have a human name) is mad at his arrival. Apparently, people dying before their time is a black mark on the various Deaths' records, and Harry is getting perilously close to getting this particular one fired.

*When Harry asks what was supposed to have happened, Death goes off on a rant saying how he was supposed to have killed Voldemort, found his soul mate ("Some Granger girl...") and lived to be a centennial age. But since Harry keeps getting into life-threatening situations for one reason or another, he keeps dying before that happens. Harry is surprised about the soul mate part.

*Death gives Harry a paper to sign that allows him to retain his memories (the previous times, he wasn't given this option for some reason). Harry is deposited to a previous time of the writer's choosing.

*Eventually, Harry gets it right. He kills Voldemort, gets the girl, and lives to a ripe old age of whatever. And Death doesn't get fired.

REQUIREMENTS:

*Harry had to have died at least three times before this one.

*The memory keeping contract must be included.

*Death must refer to Hermione as "some Granger girl" when Harry's soul mate turns up in his rant.

*Obviously, must be H/Hr.

*Have fun.

OPTIONAL:

*Dumbledore's manipulations can be a factor in Harry's premature demises.

DISCLAIMER:I don't own Harry Potter. Wish I did though.

"If someone can tell me why the bloody hell we haven't resolved this issue that would be fantastic. Thank you." The acerbic note of Reaper Ltd.'s Chief Executive Officer cut through the boardroom, the posh oak desk and the executives sitting on the chairs around it all shuddered at the force of the CEO's voice, none unable or unwilling to give any excuse as to why the British Situation was not at all fixed yet.

"Potter!" the CEO barked, staring at the green eyes of the Director named Potter, who gulped audibly in fear, an emotion almost foreign and yet here Potter was, staring right at the dark eyes of Reaper Ltd.'s CEO, an aptly named Mr. Grimm, wondering just what sort of answer one could give in that situation without being fired on the spot. None, unfortunately, seemed to come to mind, and it was only the sound of an opening door that saved Potter from a very public stammering.

The secretary entered quickly, whispering hushed tones to CEO Grimm, who from time to time looked at his team of executives and then returned to focusing on what the man said. Dismissing him, Mr. Grimm shot an angry look at them, a soft growl emanating from his throat before clearing it and beginning.

"As of 2:07PM today, 140,000 unscheduled arrivals have passed through our doors, costing us almost six million in Spectral Pounds and the figures are rising. Accounting expects another three hundred thousand to pass through our doors in the next 12 hours due in most part to the rampage by Subject 201513 from current events. It is expected that if we allow this timeline to happen then by the end of the fiscal year, our stock value will be at S£0.24 a share, a 1000% decrease.

The pale look on their faces only made him nod. "We cannot risk investor confidence dwindling especially during this time. Client knows we're not going down as the company that started the Death Management bubble bursting." A deep inhalation supported him through everything he had said. Only with that idea did the gravity of what was to come next.

"Potter. I'll fast track the papers and get it done in the next three hours. Brief them while it's being done and teach those kids cheats or something if you have to. I refuse to do all the work in this bloody company." The snide comment did not go unnoticed as the man disappeared with a pop. The other executives winced, even the pop sounded annoyed.

Smartest witch of her generation my arse. Couldn't see true love if it stared at her in the face.

Potter fumed at the realisation that her client, one Hermione Granger was all for messing up what was written in the book of destinies long ago codified by people who did not understand just exactly what "free will" meant and how it would affect a book of "destiny" that currently had just about as much importance to the universe as a bag of stale crisps.

Although to be fair, a bag of stale crisps did sound really good right about now, having not eaten in a full day.

"Harry!" An all-too familiar voice rang in the offices of the Director, Wizarding Affairs, face shooting up from the document Potter had been reading. Sighing, Potter sat on her desk, waiting for the all-too-common reaction of the other person.

"Hermione!" Harry shouted, his arm still outstretched although there was no wand there now, just air.

"Right." The female who had not had a very good morning moved to settle things down between them, two cups of warm tea were waiting on the opposite side of the table, another on hers from which she took a sip.

"Good, you're both finally done with processing. Harry. Hermione."

The greeting had almost gone unnoticed until Harry Potter's head snapped towards that direction. "Mum!"

"Yes. Yes. Mum. It's me. It really is. Yes. You're dead. This time, from a very nasty Avada Kedavra curse, while Hermione here was hit with the same Killing Curse from jumping in front of you." Lily E. Potter did not look at her son, although she had wanted to. It was unfair. Life was unfair. Life was unfair because "destiny" and "free will" were very different things and yet the universe required a modicum of both to function properly.

Harry, however, was far too focused on seeing his mother for the first time although the joy of such a meeting was tempered greatly by a small fact. "Dead?" he croaked, then stopped, face paling at the thought while Hermione swooned at the same realisation beside him.

"Dead. Yes. Now go on, Harry Potter, you go drink your tea before it gets cold." Irrelevant, a part of her mind said. She could have just cast a warming spell on it but she was far too angry at herself to trust her wand holding abilities and the two were more worse for wear, not to mention the wands were still in Quarantine, and it didn't matter anyway. Harry James Potter would drink his bloody tea because his mother bloody told him to.

"You too, Hermione. Sit down." She snapped and Hermione jolting back into reality.

"But…" she tried to begin, her rational mind unwilling to accept the fact that she was dead when she was very much alive.

"No. Drink your bloody tea, Hermione Jean Granger. You will do that and keep quiet or so help me…" she trailed off, returning to the document that contained all of the important bits she would have to once again tell them.

The two slowly sat onto the comfortable chairs, far more comfortable than anything both had experienced in a very long time. Weeks of stress seemed to peel off, helped by the tea that was just the way that both wanted it.

"Mum." Harry finally said, still stricken by the primal fear of one's mother's anger.

"I love you too, Harry. But we've been through this six bloody times before. So there's really not much to say except I'm bloody disappointed in you." She eyed him, unable to contain the foul words.

"I mean seriously! Stupefy against Avada Kedavra? Bloody shite spellcraft, that's what it is." No one had ever told Harry that his mother was foul-mouthed, although he was starting to learn that now. Whether or not this part of Lily Potter was common was beyond him. After all, in his world, he had never seen his mother except now.

Hermione, for her part, slowly nodded, agreeing that perhaps a Stunning Spell was not the best choice of defence against the Killing Curse. In retrospect, of course it was clear, but she was hardpressed to find an alternative.

"Protego Maxima, then you hit the shield with an Expulso to deflect the Killing Curse." She answered Hermione's unspoken question. It was a novel idea, but one that had saved her many times when she was hard pressed to counter the curse directly.

"Ahhh…" she placed both hands on her faced, slowly peeling off what layers of stress she could as the two turned to each other, still processing the idea of casting a curse on a charm. "Protego Totalum could work too, or even just Protego, but dodge quick." She noted, then looked at the both of them.

The silence that erupted from the room was unbearable. Only the distraught breathing of Harry, who was still in the process of realising just how dead and in trouble he was, could be heard. The sharp inhalation prepared him for the next question in the long series of questions his mind was preparing.

"I've been dead before?" he asked softly, his hand shaking, making the teacup shake with it.

"Six times. You too Hermione. Far too many to recall, but the highlights being not riding Buckbeak with a saddle." She paused at that. "Harry, that's why we invented saddles, dear. They're very useful in keeping you on the bird." She said pointedly.

"Then there was the time you insulted the snake before your first year, telling it that its mother was so fat…" she chuckled, unable to continue the joke. "I won't go there." She finally said, then looked at Hermione. "You too, young lady. It took you four times to get the Time Turner thing down pat. Once, you were so sleepy you toyed with it in your hand, turning back time so much that it was 1921 for you. The Universe, of course, instantly killed you for not being supposed to exist." She pursed her lips at that, the redhead, who didn't seem like she aged a day from the last time she held Harry in her arms was even more disappointed at Hermione.

Smartest bloody witch of her generation…

"But what are we doing here?" Harry was now slightly panicking, as was expected, looking around to try to make sense of it. His last view was a flash of green over the Hogwarts Courtyard, and then a flash of pink.

"Well, the sixth time you both died was today. Bad day to die, as it turns out. Since you're down to one last chance at living, with you being soulmates. Very bad." She expelled a humph at that.

"Soulmates?" Hermione finally spoke, looking at Harry.

"Soulmates." Lily replied, then beginning another narration.

"Here's the thing." She began. "Every person born in the world has a destiny. It's not clearcut, mind you. There's no point in a clear-cut destiny for anyone. It's really just a register of birthdates and death dates, what you do in between is all up to you. But once the death date is reached, the person dies by some way or another. Another department handles the hows, but from what I know, it can be as pretty as dying in your sleep, or as ugly as being hit by three reductos without much time to react." They all winced at the thought.

"Not important, though. We all know how you both died. And for the sixth time, I have the joy to tell you that it's not your time to die yet." Lily felt glad about that, at least. The smile was genuine, one that warmed both hearts. "From what the Bureau of Possibilities tell us, Harry James Potter was supposed to…" she trailed off, opening the file then continuing.

"Live until October 14, 2090 aged 110 married to…" she shot a look at Hermione, a very protective one. "Some Granger girl." She smiled a bit afterwards, however, to Hermione's relief. Lily Potter was scary. No wonder James Potter fell in love with her. "With several grandchildren." She finished, closing the file.

"Most of it was conjecture, of course. But the soul bound aspect did give us a clearer view of what was in store for you." Lily said. "Of course, fate and destiny and all the good things about free will just destroyed it." She sighed.

"Dead." Hermione's throat somehow gave the words that made it all the more real.

"Aren't we done with this part?" Lily snapped, eyes glaring, but sighing. "I know. It seems rather cool-hearted of me, but it is what it is." Her face broke into a smile at seeing her beloved son again. "Oh Harry." Her arm reached out towards their end of the table, Harry's reflecting the action.

"But Ron…?" Hermione was in no state to be thinking, much less realising that she was disturbing an extremely loving act between mother and child.

"Not yet dead. Still fighting. If the predictions are correct, he won't be dead for another two years, fighting the good guerilla fight." Lily returned to the cold voice that she used around her clients and subjects.

"Where are we?" Harry asked, looking around. It was daytime, the windows flooded sunlight so un-British that Harry and Hermione almost knew they were in another world.

"Reaper Ltd. Headquarters. Far away." Lily answered. "It's like the Afterlife, only with less pole dancers." She chuckled to herself.

"The point is, you're dead. And you're not supposed to be. Why you're dead is because Voldemort is an extremely powerful wizard." She paused, looking at them looking back at her expectantly.

"Yes. That's it. That's all there is to it, really." She shrugged. "Did you really think that a boy your age could defeat a Dark Wizard whose levels of remorse, the main battery for dark magic, amount to nil?" brows creasing, she continued.

"That's…" Hermione mumbled, before nodding in assent. Perhaps the combined abilities of more accomplished witches like McGonagall, Flitwick and Snape could have bested Riddle enough to allow Harry the killing blow – although Harry's ability to even cast the Killing Curse was debatable – but they did not have that luxury and in hindsight, they never truly did.

"But you said we were soul mates." Harry, finally, had gotten to the important bit of Lily's tirade.

"Yes. Soul mates. People whose souls are extremely intertwined that the fates, from beginning to end, have conspired to keep them together." She lifted a finger. "What the fates can't do is make them fall in love with each other."

She looked at the two expectantly, hoping to hit two birds with one stone by making them look at each other and seeing them fall madly in love. Of course, like many other things living or dead, it wasn't meant to be and they simply looked at each other in bewilderment.

"But I love Ron." Hermione said, looking at her best friend, her other best friend.

"And I…" Harry paused, swallowed then shook his head. Harry knew the answer to that. He had stopped being in love with Ginny a long time ago, long before the two of them were together in the forest, long before that feeling of despair sank that would have made him question if he was only feeling that way about his female best friend because of the stress of saving the Wizarding World.

"No." Hermione's eyes widened at that, lifting herself out of her chair. "Harry. No." she said, begging him to say that it wasn't so. She loved Ron. Harry was a good man, but not the one for her, she believed.

"Sorry." Harry whispered, looking down at his lap. "I thought I could just hide it." He chuckled mirthlessly. "But yes." He looked up at her, begging her to forgive him. He had long accepted that Hermione's heart did not belong to him. That the piece of unrequited love that he held in his heart was one of the many defeats he would have to endure. Voldemort was another, and he was surprisingly ambivalent about the fact that he had been defeated by both.

"Yes. Well. Sorry, son." Lily broke the awkward silence that had permeated between the two. She did not plan on outing Harry in front of his love, but it was a necessity. The boss had told her to give them full disclosure. This was as full as it got.

"Since you and about a hundred thousand other witches and muggles are a couple of decades early for your visit here at Reaper Ltd., we have been given permission to send you back in time, to when you could change the past. Maybe get a head start on the Horcrux hunt bit. Stop Dumbledore from being such a showoff, that sort of stuff." She pulled out a pen but was interrupted by Hermione who had sat down.

"Professor Dumbledore wasn't a showoff."

Hermione did not want the Headmaster's name sullied. For good reason, Lily supposed. She turned to Harry who nodded, vehemently.

"Then why in Merlin's name does he only appear when he can do the best good? And you'd think a wizard like him would be able to Apparate properly without being afraid of splinching. But no. He always bloody appears at the last minute." She said, smiling wryly at them.

"Keeping things secret from the whole order when the lot would give their lives to save Britain? Do you think things would be better if the lot of them just went out and looked for all the Horcruxes at the same time?" she growled now, growing angrier with every word. There were caveats to her argument, she knew, but none of them relevant. They were the Order of the Phoenix, after all, and they had all chose to lay down their lives for the greater good, even if it meant death. They could have helped, they knew they all could have helped. Why the old man kept it from them was a mystery.

"And let us not, please let us not, forget the catastrophe that was leaving you with Vernon." Lily spat the name out with more venom than all of the Order saying "Voldemort" combined.

"You know, Petunia used to be nice. I would think that she would find enough kindness to care for my son, her own nephew. But Vernon, the man's a menace! A reason to hate someone if there ever was one. Poisoned my own sister's thoughts." She sighed, near tears.

"Jealous, sure. Petunia was always jealous of my magic, but we had a good relationship, she and I. We were good to each other. But Vernon." She growled the name, then stopped, looking at the two with shame. Shame, perhaps, for her sister, and for the way her own blood treated her child.

Harry, however, was in no mood to speak of Aunt Petunia or Uncle Vernon, although they felt the better option to think or speak about entirely. Like any person, he was more focused on being revealed as falling in love with his own best friend, a best friend that was also in love with his other best friend. He was only half listening, half ashamed at himself. It's nice to know that we're soul mates… He thought.

Not that anything would ever happen, of course. Like his mother said, everyone still had free will. So the living of old age with the Granger girl of his dreams with grandchildren was a fanciful rendition of "Never Gonna Happen, mate."

Perhaps, in a way, this was a good thing. He had been thinking for months on how to get over her. Perhaps inadvertently telling her – through his own dead mum – was the best way to do it. Even if it really hurt now. She rejected him, after all.

It was funny, really. For all the times Ron wanted to be Harry, it was sufficient payback that right now, Harry really wanted to be Ron.

"Then who can we trust?" his thoughts were broken by Hermione, who wasn't thinking about it at all and more focused on the mission.

"That really depends on you. Not everything is set in stone, you know." Lily smiled back at her. She was ignoring Harry for a reason, that being he still needed to get over the feeling that he was feeling. Just like his father. She thought, adding to the grin.

"I will give you my personal vouch for Remus, Sirius, and Severus. If no one else, those three know exactly what's going on. Not to mention that they're your father's and my best friends." Lily said, now returning to Harry who looked up.

"Dad was never best friends with Snape." Harry said, the only thing he could add to the conversation.

"Not publicly, but they were good friends, really. At first, they weren't, of course. He was my best friend up until James pirated me away from him. We all knew he loved me, but he was too much of a gentleman to do anything bad." Lily shrugged, looking far away to the wall of her office. "He accepted that a long time ago. And when he was a Death Eater, he realised that they would come after me and so he joined the Order through Dumbledore." Lily explained.

"At times, he would be the only one available to take watch upon the house. Those days when your father felt too cooped up, he would call on Severus when he was available to take care of me and you then go out and get some fresh air." She continued. "Over time, they started talking, long past the point of being mean to each other. And in a way, they became good friends. James would never admit it, and even now that he's very dead, he won't admit that Snape does have a place in his circle of best friends." She laughed. "Of course they had to pretend that they hated each other, but that was easy. Mostly because of habit than anything else. It helped that Severus was a brilliant occlumens and could hide those memories of them drinking tea and arguing over which spell and potion to best use when hit with a bat-bogey hex. But they, like me and him, very good friends."

It was enough of a story to shock Harry back from the pit of self-loathing that he was slowly creating. The image of Severus and his father in a friendly argument over Bat-Bogey Hex cures was enough to do so. It made sense, he knew, in a way. But he was institutionalised with the idea of Snape hating his father and vice-versa. Only now did it dawn upon him that his mother was an extremely powerful witch not due to some extreme form of magic, but because she had done the impossible of making Snape and Potter friends.

"When they needed to speak candidly, as friends, they would always tell each other a very particular line." Lily was now extremely nostalgic, but was pleased to note that Hermione was keeping notes in her head. "'Oil and Water, and Lillies.' They would always say." Lily drifted off for a moment, in a memory long past, of arguments over tea and hexes and curses, of the two of them laughing as if things from the past never truly happened.

"Dumbledore was against the possibility of them being friends, I think. How different they were, after all." She said quietly now, the anger returning.

She stood, however, clearing her head. "But that's done, and James is here, and Severus will be returning shortly when you do, his memories wiped of the Afterlife like everyone else." She looked at them now.

"Except the two of you."

Harry Potter's hopes that the reveal would be forgotten were dashed by that.

"You two, being soul mates, have your lives inextricably linked, and so we can't just leave Harry's memories intact but yours wiped. Nothing that happens to one of you won't have an effect on the other. Nothing fancy like getting hurt when he is, but when one of you dies, the other follows. It is imperative that you two keep yourselves together then." Lily said.

"I have the paperwork here, but what's missing is when we should bring you back." She began. "Because of temporal fluctuations, we can't go back any further than your fifth year. Voldemort must be reincarnated so that he can die properly, but the earliest I can place you is a week before your fifth year." She looked at the two, waiting for them to agree or disagree. Harry, she then noticed, was still looking at his lap, thinking, while Hermione who was normally very chatty, asking about things in general, was simply looking at her expectantly, completely out of her element. Or perhaps her mind froze at the multitude of questions to ask, Lily mused.

"Right. Well, if you've got nothing else? I'll be sending you back to processing now so you can jump back through time to fix something that should have been done six times ago." She waited for more questions, begging them to ask so that they could be helped into fixing the mess that just wouldn't right itself.

It was Harry, however, not Hermione who raised a hand. "Can we tell anyone about this?"

Lily nodded, surprising them both. "Yes, but do so under only the most extreme circumstances. Or only to those you trust. I would suggest Lupin, Sirius, and Severus and whoever you think is worth telling it to. But you can only do so if you both agree on telling the person. If one of you disagrees, then the other will be physically incapable of doing so." She explained. "And remember, you two are intertwined in ways that we cannot even understand. From what we can tell, there's no fancy magic, or growing stronger when you're together, the only caveat being that you are both going to die at the same time. At best, a day late of each other. That's it." She looked at Hermione, expecting questions.

"Why do we have to do this?"

Hermione's question took Harry by surprise, who looked at her incredulously.

"I mean, if we died now, what difference would it make if we died in a hundred years?" She added quickly. Her tone said that she was not shirking from her responsibilities, but only through the mindset of one who had learned to accept death's permanence. To find out that she had died six times before and would live seven times was unfathomable to her rational brain.

"Because everyone who dies passes through the Door of Judgment. It's a useful little door that checks the destined death date of a person with the current date. Behind the door is the actual afterlife. This is more like… Death Management, really." Lily shrugged, unsure of how exactly to term it. "We make sure the book is right, if it's not, we keep the soul around until it does. That costs us money. Which means it's in the company's best interests to make sure people die when they're supposed to. Because really, if they don't, they fade away, and there's no hope of reincarnation or a happy death for them. Sad, isn't it? They're even denied a proper death." Lily tilted her head thoughtfully. In all her years working there, she had been posited the question many times and it was still hard to wrap her mind around it too.

"But Dad…?" Harry looked at her mother who laughed.

"Out watching the Quidditch game with his mates. He'll be called back in to work though, even if it's his day off. The sooner we get this done the faster your father and I can get back to having se-"

Harry raised a hand at that, eyes widening. "Didn't need to know that." He said quickly and his mother looked down, embarrassed.

"Yes. Of course. You're right. Any other questions?" she cleared her throat before asking.

"Just one more." Hermione raised her hand reflexively.

"What is it?" Lily pulled out her wand, looking at them.

"Where do we begin?"

"Easy, really. Make sure you do things your way. Think about it. You may not have the same feelings for each other but you two are soul mates, best mates for the rest of your lives and if you don't want to end with everyone dying, start from the beginning. Start from what you can change." Lily readied her wand and the two nodded, looking at each other, then looking back at Lily E. Potter, who smiled.

"Now I'll need you to sign here, and here, with your wands… they're in your pockets, dears, and just point and agree." Lily swished her wand and two parchments apparated in front of them, the two nodded slowly, seeing the words "Reaper Ltd. Memory Contract Form 0461-A" in heavy ink on the upper right side.

"When you're done, you'll instantly be sent to processing, the first thing you'll remember when you return to the MC…"

"MC?" Hermione couldn't resist asking.

"Mortal Coil, bit of tradespeak there, sorry. The last thing you'll remember is signing your names. Alright?" she looked at the two expectantly, and they nodded. Lily walked towards Harry and hugged him, who returned the hug gingerly, almost unsure as to what to do.

"It's alright, sweetie." She said, consoling her only son. It was bad enough that he had to die that day, but to be rejected was almost a foul.

"Thanks, mum." He whispered back and then looked at Hermione, who looked at him back, a million questions he didn't want answered raged behind those eyes as he felt the magic pulse through the wand and into the parchment, the world turning a blinding white as he did.