To say that Hazel was confused would be the understatement of the Wizarding World.

She had woken up from death on a overly puffy couch, been told by a tall guy in a suit to enter the room labeled 'Grim Reaper Clifford Jones'. Upon meeting GR Jones, she had been told that she had died nine times, including the latest death, and only had one shot a long happy life.

Then, she was supposed to follow this GR Jones bloke to follow him to the Renewal Chamber to be sent back in time to her eleven year old (by less than a second) self so that she could save hundreds of lives by defeating Voldemort early.

Yay.

Cliff smiled and called back, "You alright back there Harzel?"

And Hazel groaned. Then Harry moaned. "Come on, GR Jones," Harry complained. "Don't call us Harzel for God's sake."

"I don't know about for God, he's got nothin' much to do with death compared to Freyja and Hades and Donn and Nergal and Supay and Shinigami and Osiris and Tuonni and Mors and El Tío and Yama and Mara and Ankou and Grim Reaper and Azrael and, and, and- damn, their gonna kill me! I forgot most of the death deities out there! Anyways, in my, or any other death person's presence, use Freyja of Yama."

Hazel just shrugged.

"They're the most forgiving when you use their name in such a way." Cliff explained with an easy grin, which was surprisingly calm considering a half hour before he was practically trying to kill the Harzel- if you call me that I'll kill you -twins.

The Renewal Chamber was a large, stone room with ornately carved walls.

A receptionist sat at a beautifully carved stone desk. "Hello, Reaper Jones. These two are trying for renewal?"

Cliff nodded decisively. "Hazel Sage Potter and Harry James Potter of the Wizarding World would like to return to the Living Realm."

"Praeteritum or praesens?"

"Praeteritum, please. July 31, 12 A.M., the Hut-On-The-Sea, 1991, if that's possible, Restitutor Smith." Cliff replied.

"Of course it's possible, Reaper. So these are the infamous Potter twins. I've been wondering when they would show up on my shift. Good luck you two!"

Restitutor Smith ordered the Harzel- if you call me that I'll kill you -twins into the center of the chamber, where a series of carved runes was. The first rune Hazel recognized as Reditum, the rune for returning, and the second as Factum, the rune for passing.

The pair were ordered to stand on two seperate runes, each a sub-rune of Reditum.

With a single double tap of the foot on the base of the rune and a trickle of magic, they returned to the Living Realm.

Hazel found herself staring at the immense and dark figure standing in the doorway.

"Couldn't make us a cup o' tea, could yeh? It's not been an easy journey..." Said the figure Hazel and Harry knew to be Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Hagrid strode to where Dudley was cowering on the couch. "Budge over, yeh great lump."

He turned to look at Harry and I. "An' here's Harry and Hazel! Why when I last saw you two, you were no older than fif'een months!"

He reached into his massive travelers cloak to pull out an immense package. "Uh, I got somethin' for ya. Here it is, might be a bi' squashed, but I reckon it'll still taste good."

Nervously (or perhaps not as he knew what it was), Harry accepted the package from the half-giant. "Thank you, Mr. Hagrid."

Hagrid laughed, a booming, loud laugh at the statement. "Mr. Hagrid, nah, jus' call me Hagrid."

"Okay..." Hazel trailed off. In Hagrid's delight, he hadn't even realized that neither she or Harry were supposed to know his name, but no one ever said Hagrid was suspicious of others, just that he didn't think a person (or monster) could do any wrong whatsoever. Yeah, those damn Blast Ended Screwts nearly killed both multiple times and his whole dragon obsession could have just as easily ended their lives (especially because of fourth year...), just saying they wanted to play with the twins.

Harry opened the package and within was the birthday cake we had recieved seven years before (sort of, anyways. Hazel was not sure if it actually counted properly. Damn! All of this time-travel stuff was so confusing!)

"Don't eat anything he gives you, Dudley," Uncle Vernon warned.

"Shut up, Dursley you great prune! Yer son doesn't need no more fattenin' up!" Hagrid thundered loudly, pointing his pink umbrella at Dudley.

A bright pink, curly little tail sprouted from Dudley's rear end. Horrified screams echoed form each of the Dursleys' mouths at once.

Aunt Petunia started wailing about her Diddy Darling Duddykins while Uncle Vernon thundered, "I'll press charges for this!" and Dudley began to howl in pain.

Hazel threw her hands to her mouth as she watched the whole scene play out infront of her. To say avoiding laughter was easy would be a lie. To be perfectly honest, both Harry and Hazel wer forced to resort to biting their toungues so hard that a wash of salty blood filled the mouthes of both.

Disgusted, Hazel pulled her hands away from her mouth, turned green and spat out a glob of red blood. "Blah!"

Harry smiled sympathetically. Naturally, it was a slightly bloody smile, and the younger Potter twin looked as though he were a vampire and had recently sucked the blood of a poor, unsuspecting mortal. What a lovely thought. Well, no. Completely and utterly gross.

When there fit of cruel laughter was over, Hagrid smiled indulgently at them, before insisting that they both ate a slice of birthday cake, despite the early hour (it wasn't yet 12:30 A.M.).

After a small slice of rockhard cake for each twin, Hagrid gave them each a sleeping draught, having forgotten that neither twin should know anything about the wizarding world.

It was around eight when the draughts wore off, and by that time, both had amassed an extremely confused persona in their sleep. A confused and curious persona, that is.

"Hagrid," Harry asked over a breakfast of sausages, "Why are you here?"

The half-giant boomed with laughter. "I fergot 'ya didn' know! Yer a wizard Harry." The younger of the Harzel- if you call me that I'll kill you -twins dropped to the floor in a dead, fake faint, while Hazel drained the blood from her face with highly developed acting skills and began to stammer.

Hazel didn't react, just stared absently into the distance until a few minutes later when she yelped as the thought finally processed. "W-what!?" Her acting skills were extraordinarily good.

Something, Hagrid decided, was possitively strange about the Potter twins. The elder, Hazel, was the exact image of her mother at that age. But mentally, the petite girl couldn't be more different from her mother.

While Lily had been bright and outgoing, to-the-point and clever, young Hazel was quite different. She had a dreamy air to her, and a soft, whispering voice almost like the wind whistling through tree branches or the soft music of a wooden flute. It had taken a few minutes for the realization of what Hagrid had said to fully sink in, which, while wasn't surprising, was hardly normal.

Harry seemed far more mature than his father had been, almost too much so for Hagrid's tastes. His father had never missed a moment to play a prank, but Harry didn't look like he would play a prank if not doing so would kill him. Very different from his father indeed.

"And ye', Haze, are a witch," Hagrid whispered conspiratorilly.

"Oh dear," the girl replied brightly. "I do believe you've had to much to drink, Hagrid."