Harry, or Lord Hadrian Griffindor-Slytherin-Potter-Peverell-Hufflepuff-Black as some people called him (crazy people *cough cough house elves cough cough*), groaned to himself as he stretched his bruised body. Great.
Damn that fairy! He'd been this close to ruling all of the fairies. But no. Some smarmy parmy princess diva had thrown a hissy fit because he didn't want to bear her children. Honestly. Some people just don't get how he can be soul bonded to a megalomaniac dark lord who was already defeated. Or dead. He had in fact mourned a bit when Tom died, it had been unexpected to find someone like Tom.
Harry had to admit. He never would have suspected Neville to kill his husband. Dumblebee's meddlings certainly went far.
But, here he was, returned to his four year old body, for the thirteenth time.
Becoming Master of Death had some unforeseen consequences, including being tricked by Death into an eternal cycle of rebirth. Basically, Harry had been young (ish, thirty wasn't that young) and had taken Option number 2. Oh, how he wished he could have told young naïve Harry just to move on with his life, it was pretty much meaningless anyway.
Option 2 was the option to redo his life.
Small thing he missed was that he had to redo it over and over and over every time he died.
Life number two, Harry had tried to defeat the dark lord as a four year old, which was a bit stupid, as his magical core had been bound by Dumbledore (not that he knew that) and beaten back by his uncle (not that he knew that either, who knew that abuse affected magic?). Plus he was four, and Death hadn't said anything about giving him super death powers, or the magic as he had last had it.
So, he broke out of his cupboard in the dead of night, and managed to apparate. Harry was okay, for a bit, (five seconds) before he died of magical drain. Since there was Dumbledore's bindings, a Tom leech, and the whole abused magic strain thing.
Life number two was pitifully short, and when he came back to his four year old body, aching as it was, he could only sigh in relief. At least he had another go.
In his third life he (smart guy he was) decided to run away and train his magic up a bit. Probably a smart idea.
Turns out the muggle world wasn't as inept as he first assumed, and had not thought to ignore a small three year old looking child wearing rags. He'd been taking in by social services, and, his magic still too weak, he decided just to go along with it. Surprisingly, when he had informed them of his 'wbig wbad wveletives' they had believed him, and launched an investigation into the Dursleys.
Upon finding the cupboard beneath the stairs, Harry's identity being protected based on the laws around minors names in the media (why didn't wizards have those laws, he had wondered at the time), he had been moved into a foster family. It was a mother, who was looking after three older children alone, after her husband and son had died two years earlier. She was a sweet lady, cared for Harry greatly, and he had to admit for almost four lives he had held onto that love for Sherry as the first mother to have truly cared about him.
Excluding Lily who he couldn't remember, and was slightly resentful of with new facts that had come to light. Sure, she sacrificed her life for him, but it Harry had already done that about five times.
...Not that he was immortal or anything.
However, things had only gone downhill when he realised that Mrs. Fig was his next door neighbour.
Sherry took an immediate shine to the lady, kind mother she was, and was even thankful for the baby sitting offer. Though, she refused, as she did not know Mrs. Fig and wouldn't trust Harry's safety with a stranger.
If only more people could have been like Sherry.
After a few months he was starting to have doubts over Dumbledore and his cronies. He thought over all those mysterious machinations, and Dumbledore's catch phrase (the same as Grindelwald's he would later discover, which was quite damning).
In his years growing up he searched out a few of the horcruxes, and destroyed them. He apparated to Grimmond Place when he was seven, making an ally of Kreacher, and used fiendfiere to kill the locket. Then he made his way to the Gaunt Shack to kill the ring, narrowly avoiding all the death traps that layed in wait.
Harry had been secretly visiting Diagon Alley for years, reading more about magic than he had ever before.
Many years later, basically left alone by Dumbledoom, when he turned eleven the real fun began.
With his second chance he knew the basics of what would happen, and was determined to live his life in a similar way, but destroy Tom a lot quicker. He went to school, convinced himself his friends were the same as last time (and they acted the same), and black mailed the hat into sorting him into Griffindor despite its protests.
Harry killed the Diadem in the first few weeks there, and fiddled around in the restricted section, wanting to better himself more than he had in his last life. Ron and Hermione became his best friends again, although he made sure no one had to face a troll, and he let Quirrel be for the time being, not entirely sure how to kill Tom in wraith form.
At the end of the year he snatched the philosopher's stone, for safe keeping, and burned Quirrel with his hands like last time.
The only visible difference of that year was that Snape (he acted a bit like a potions prodigy), the biased git, didn't hate him, and Dumbledore was suspicious. Why? He still didn't know.
In second year he snatched Tom Riddle's diary from Ginny's cauldron, burned it with all of his pent up hate (fiendfiere), and wondered if he should just forgo school and hunt horcruxes instead. But, he continued on, feeling a compulsion (pun.) to do so, and went back year after year.
Second year was dull, apart form the mysterious disappearance of Lockhart, related to a malfunctioning obliviate. The creep. Every life he ended up having to kill that man, whether accidental or not.
Third year he realised he hadn't freed his 'godfather', felt some guilt, and then manipulated events to have him free earlier. Turned out... he was a bit of a twit. Sirius didn't truly heal from Askaban, and was probably a twit before too (and a bully), and was quite certain that Harry was just like James. He was also a smidge biased against Slytherins.
But, they bonded, and became close again, because back then Harry was still deluded and doped up on potions enough to forget the Dudley similarities.
It was a rule of his for many lives that if someone displayed or developed too many Dudley similarities it was important for them to be eliminated.
...A lot of Death Eaters died when he was in charge.
In Fourth year he was entered in the tournament again, got a little pissed, and got a little more pissed when Ron and Hermione ditched him. Who would have thought that trolls were important for friendships? (plus friendships usually worked better with people who weren't just being payed to hang around you)
That year he talked a lot with Luna, who was a really nice girl, and didn't spill the beans when he told her he was from the sorta future. They spent a lot of the time in the Room of Requirement, a lot of studying was done, and it was with her help that he realised he was gay.
It was hard for a man with five children, and a loving wife, to admit he was gay, but Luna had eventually convinced him by them making out for a while. She only told him years after that she hadn't been trying to convince him, and that she had actually had a crush on him.
It was a bit awkward to talk about that in front of her husband Neville, who she had married not long ago.
Tom rose to power, looking like a fucking snake thing, and Harry shot a wandless Avada kedarva at him when he was tied to the gravestone. Everyone had been a bit shocked, and the Death Eaters had all popped away, before glancing about nervously.
That past year, with Luna's help, he had used a ritual to destroy the horcrux within him, and prevented Nagini from becoming one, by tracking her down and talking with her. She was actually quite sweet, Harry could understand why Tom had liked her.
Dumbledore lectured him about not murdering people.
Five years later, after an early marriage with Ginny (he deluded himself after many a love potion that he wasn't gay), Dumbledore plotted his murder, fucking hypocrite.
His ire for Dumbledee was something that seemed to rekindle every time he saw the man. He was just so terrible.
In life number five he had been full of pent up anger and aggression, giving Petunia the evil eye a lot, and planning the torturous deaths of his relatives.
Harry went through a dark patch, one that he never really got out of.
So, he used his mega awesome wandless magic, which he had studied in the late years of his third life, to torture and murder his family. Quite brutally. It also helped relieve a bit of stress and sadness over Dumbledamn and his 'friend's' betrayal.
Sadly, the blood wards around Privet Drive let Dumbledore to be aware of huge amounts of carnage going on. He fire travelled over and obliviated Harry of all knowledge up to six years old. He forgot everything, sadly, as his Occlumency shields did nothing against the obliviate.
At eight, a new teacher came along, someone which his heart begged him to listen to. They were a mediator from China, someone he hadn't really noticed before, and his hidden mind compelled him to learn meditation so he could regain his memories.
He eventually did, and all his memories were uncovered, along with a new wariness and anger and Dumbledore.
But, even with remembered memories, he still felt like a six year old, and that the memories weren't really his own. It was a bit weird. So, he continued on with his life, suspicious that he was actually insane.
That life he stayed with the Dursleys until he was eleven. After years of having given up, and being brainwashed, he was skittish and nervous and flinched a lot. He may have had the collective age of fifty eight, but he still had childish emotions, and he had been analysing his whole life.
He stayed at the Leaky Cauldron, ignoring how Hagrid wanted to return him to his relatives, and wondered if every life he had would be so full of pain.
Harry was sorted into Slytherin, finally, since he didn't want to deny the hat any further.
He placed on his blank mask, and ignored the other first years, remembering them as Death Eaters and feeling like he was betraying his past self.
Harry didn't think he would destroy Tom that life, he didn't want to, and decided to leave it to someone else.
That year, after two months, Snape had called him to his office. He demanded he removed his shirt, Harry had been about to AK the bastard when he realised Snape was probably wondering about the abuse (the awkward 'I thought you were a paedophile' moment). The signs were pretty obvious that time. He did, and Snape vowed to protect him. They bonded over shared scars.
He admitted to being Harry's godfather, much to Harry's shock, and he became quite the Slytherin that life.
Dumbledore had been quite suspicious, constantly trying to Legilimise him, much to Harry's anger.
Harry had to wonder what could have happened if he hadn't learnt Occlumency later on in his first life, and was quite glad that Dumbledore assumed that because of his abusive home life he had created a mind shield to spare him the pain. Also, some people were just Natural Occlumens, meaning shields just came to them.
What would they have done if they had realised he was the Master of Death?
Probably locked him up somewhere and tortured him for the rest of his life.
In first year he climbed the Slytherin hierarchy, having lots of fun making Malfoy a scapegoat (for no reason since they'd never fought in that life) and sitting in a throne surrounded by snakes. He ruled fiercely, indulging his sadistic side on many an occasion, and let his conscience go for a while. Morals had been boring, after all.
His best friends were Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini, both boys were sharp with an acidic tongue and had done well as his minions.
That year he ignored Dumbledore's manipulation attempts and scorned Griffindors with everyone else. Neville became his spy, as he hated to see such a powerful wizard be cowed so like he used to be.
In the mirror of Erised he saw himself, with people bowing down before him, and swore to himself he would make it come true.
Harry let Tom take the stone, deciding not to bother with the war, and continued on with his own manipulations.
That summer he got emancipated by the goblins and took his Potter and Black Lordships. Gaining the first of many titles. Hadrian James Potter, Master of Death, Lord Potter-Black, Traveller through time.
It still made his nose scrunch up to think of being like Dumbledore with his many titles, at the time he had been enamoured with them, having gained a large ego thanks to his Slytherin House rule. Never mind that he was an old man playing children like fiddles to his whims, Harry never claimed he was a good man.
In that life he never returned to the Dursleys.
In second year he stole the diary horcrux, not to destroy, but have for safe keeping. They balanced him somewhat, made him less psycho. He took up the hobby of collecting horcruxes and putting them in a Fidelius charmed box with himself as the secret keeper.
He befriended the basilisk, and saw her as a pseudo mother, a bit like Sherry. Harry put Luna under his protection, as a 'thank you' for her past actions, and knowing she was the same girl as before (Luna never truly changed through the worlds, she was a set point, and he often asked her if she was Death in disguise. She would only give him a mysterious smile and continue whatever crazy scheme she was doing.)
That year he delved into the Dark Arts, manipulated those around him, and made his actual godfather worry for him.
In third year he distanced himself from his peers, gained red eyes as a consequence for his magical growth, and avoided traps set by Dumbledore. His boggart had been his obliviated six year old self, covered in bruises, with no memories of Dumblebee's actions. His best friends had gotten worried, with good reason.
That year he added the diadem, ring, and cup to his collection (using his title as Lord Potter-Black to gain entrance to Bellatrix Lestrange Nee Black's vault, since she was imprisoned). Having them all together brought him great peace and completeness, something he pushed aside.
In Fourth year he learned the 'in's and 'out's of pure-blood politics and society. It was known that someone had taken up the Black Lordship, but not who. Harry experimented with Metamorph powers, failed since he had none, and ended up casting a serious of complicated glamours to make him look older.
He became a pure-blood prince, pompous, seductive, and wooed many to his views. That magic was all that was important, and that muggles were scum. Many of Light, Dark and Neutral descent fell to the song he played them by.
That year he did not participate in the tournament, getting by a rule that 'someone cannot be entered into a contract without their or their guardian's consent'. Since Dumbledore was not his guardian, he was emancipated, he did not have to compete. It was something that made him cast a lot of very nasty curses.
At the time he had wondered how Tom would have resurrected himself.
Tom had already risen to power, with the philosopher's stone, and had not actually needed his blood for the ritual. He had been reconnecting with his magic, and wondering about his sanity, not that Harry knew that at the time.
In Fifth year Harry killed Umbridge, not giving her a chance, and they were settled with a more harmless person from the Ministry. He essentially created a fourth side to the war, with new views, and a larger amount of wizards.
He was kidnapped by the Order of the Phoenix, and all his efforts went to waste, as he eventually had to kill himself to stop their torture, constant Legilimency attempts (Snape, that bastardous traitor) and Veritasium poisonings. Blaise had betrayed him, not agreeing with his views, and joined the Light.
Harry still had a few suspicions that he had been drugged.
In life number five, Harry had felt a bit sick of war and politics and life, and had only wanted friends that didn't betray him (stupid Snape). He just wanted someone to love him unconditionally, since everyone except Sherry had always had an agenda. For quite a while he hadn't even bothered removing himself from the Dursley's abusive care, simply letting himself be beaten and screamed at.
He fell into a dark pit which he couldn't get himself out of.
When his Hogwarts letter arrived he was a shell of a person, sick of war and hatred and violence, only wanting peace from his everlasting life. Hagrid picked him up like normal, assumed he was deaf since he never spoke, and took him around Diagon Alley like normal.
He spoke to no one, barely reacted, and was in the belief that he was a worthless freak cursed by fate. Harry was an old man, sick of his old life, and wanting for nothing but an end to it all.
Hedwig cried for him, as he had no more tears left to shed. His wand was different, the Holly wand no longer sung for him, and instead he gained an Ash and Dragon heart-string wand. One suited for the broad of mind, low of spirit, and aligned with Darkness. It suited him well at the time, and Ollivander warned him of the possible risks of it.
He didn't want Harry becoming another Tom.
Ha! Too late idiot.
Ron tried to approach him on the train, but took one look at him and left. Since Harry had so many scars on his face they assumed he was not the fabled hero. Hermione knocked on the door, asking about Neville's toad, but left in a huff when he didn't speak. Harry only sat there, staring, face completely blank, out the window.
...Harry was traumatised. It was easier to admit now than it was in his fifth life. He had been abused extremely that life, his boldness gone once the Dursleys used his depression for their own gain, and... he was broken.
It had been worse that life, the worst of all the lives. One might have thought the Dursleys wouldn't have been so damn evil to him when he was so sad, but that was wrong. They thrived on his pain and treated him worse than ever, having no restraint since he never resisted and never told a soul.
Harry had scars on almost every inch of his body, from the torture they put him through. Scars on his face, long knife cutes and a crookedness in his nose from multiple breaks. The word 'freak' and 'whore' had been carved on his back. His fingers had all been broken at one point in time, and he couldn't hold them out straight.
He was small, dead looking, pale, and littered with evidence of their torture.
It had been an even darker time in his life than the fourth life, when he basically became a Dark Lord, since he had been so broken and out of control. At that point Harry cared for nobody and nothing, not even himself, and was left with the terrifying truth that life was a never-ending curse.
Before the sorting a few children had come over to ask what happened, most scared off with his withering never-ending stare. It seared into their souls and looked out the other side.
Surprisingly enough it had been Zacharias Smith who had sat himself down beside Harry. In all his other lives Harry had known the boy as a bully, but back then, perhaps, for the first time, he had learnt that all people weren't so two dimensional. The boy had talked to him that whole train trip, spoke of the wizarding world (assuming he was muggleborn) and the storied his grandmother said of the Noble House of Hufflepuff.
For all the kid could have known he was brain dead, or completely insane (he was a bit), but he simply continued on, babbling away of how great Hogwarts would be and how many friends they could both make. At many points he asked Harry about the scars on his face and arms, asked if he was alright, but when he didn't answer he said it was fine.
Zach said Harry didn't have to talk.
When he entered the hall he noticed many eyes on him, Snape (that evil git) was one of them. Whispers followed the backs of his robes, kissing it like Tom had his followers do, and he simply walked, even paced, face blank as a board, and scars blazing.
When his name was called,
"Potter, Harry."
Silence rung out. Since it was so blaringly obvious that he had been abused.
My my, Mr. Potter... Oh my... Well then. There is only one place for you that will help you heal,
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
Harry walked steadily, ignoring everyone, and sat alone.
That night he was taken to the infirmary. No one managed to get him to speak.
Those years passed quickly, with him not playing the role expected, instead stuck in his own little world. The only people he spoke to in that life were Zach and Luna, no matter how many times Dumbledore tried to pass his impenetrable Occlumency shields.
Harry didn't do what they wanted.
He was a perfect student, got top scores on all his tests, and cast spells (all silently in the beginning as he had become mute because of all his trauma) as if he had cast them his whole life (which he kinda had). But, he didn't play the hero or enemy that life. He used that life to heal himself.
He let Tom get the stone.
He let Tom's diary kill Ginny.
He let his 'godfather' get the dementor's kiss.
He let Tom win.
It was nice to know that without him the Light side would have lost. Even if he hadn't appreciated it at the time.
That life of healing had been one of his longest lives, since Tom had not killed him like everyone expected. No, as a reward for not going against him (and once he found out Harry was a horcrux), and as a hope to heal him, he was let to live his life in the new world order just as everyone else was. Tom's world was a bit insane, he had to admit, and back then Tom had been only working with a sixth of a soul (he never made Nagini), so Tom was a bit insane.
All muggleborn were killed at birth. All half-bloods had less rights than others. Creatures were enslaved worse than before.
But, it wasn't all bad. Dark arts were no longer banned. Magical orphanages were instated. Werewolves and vampires were given more rights. And Harry had a little cottage up on a hill, where he was allowed to have his garden, and watch his children grow old.
It had been a peaceful life in the end, he had married Zach, having five children (three were parstlemouths, good to know it was a naturally gained ability), and had gained the title Lord Potter-Hufflepuff-Black, along with accepting a lot of things he hadn't accepted before. For one it had been all the suffering he had endured, another had been the power he possessed, and lastly had been the fucking amazing feeling of gay sex.
Truly since Harry had never done it before he had been a bit on edge, even if he had been a bit numb, but it ended up feeling amazing. Who knew a Hufflepuff could be such a sex fiend?
In future lives whenever he looked at Zach, even as an eleven year old, he would blush at the thought of what he had done. Honestly. Sometimes he just couldn't meet his eyes.
Lord!
