AUTHOR NOTE – Partial answer to Reptilia28 challenge

Harry Potter wasn't sure where he was. His memory felt… foggy. The last solid memory he had was Voldemort casting the death curse at him, and an oncoming blast of green light. Then… Dumbledore was there, maybe… he had a choice to make… he chose to ride a train… and then he was here.

Looking around, he saw that he was in a large room filled with thousands upon thousands of chairs. The chairs were occupied by people who appeared to be in various mental states ranging from fully sedated to mildly dazed and confused. They all were facing in the same direction, looking at a bored woman sitting at a basic wooden desk. Next to the woman was the only door in the entire room.

At random intervals, she would speak in a mumbled voice, and someone would rise from their chair and then walk to the door and enter whatever lay beyond. It was at that point that Harry noted that the chairs were always refilled instantly by a new person, with new chairs visibly being created and filled in the distance.

After an indeterminate amount of time, the lady called out "Harry James Potter". Without any sort of control of his body, he rose and walked forward. With a rising curiosity, he opened the door to see what lay beyond.

Harry Potter walked into a non-descript room. In the room sat a man at a desk. While he had never been in the office of a tax auditor, he was certain that it would have more character than this room. Though, he did imagine that the tax auditor would not look as angry (though that would likely depend on the person being audited).

The man didn't look up from the file folder he was reading and spoke in a brusque manner tinged with anger. "Sit down!"

Not seeing any reason to ignore the command, Harry sat down in the rickety wooden chair. He did not care for how uncomfortable the chair was, nor the straight back that didn't allow any sort of ability to backwards.

The man looked up at Harry, his voiced filled with an undercurrent of rage. "Are you trying to get me fired, Harry? I'm serious! Do you hate me for some reason?"

Harry raised an eyebrow in confusion. "I can't say that I have a reason to have anything against you. Then again, we just met, so I guess I could learn to want to have you fired. Let's see how things go."

The man blinked. "You're a bit mouthier then the last few times we've met. And we have met, Harry. I am Maurice, your Grim Reaper. You are dead… again!"

Harry chuckled. "I'm dead? How did that happen?"

"Do you remember stepping in front of Voldemort's killing curse?"

"Vaguely"

"Well, as a tip, the killing curse tends to kill those it hits. It's subtle, I know, but you can a see hint to the nature of the curse in how it is called the freaking KILLING curse! And not only that, when given a chance to move on to the afterlife or go back to finish the fight, you chose to come here! Do you know how infuriating that is!?"

Harry shrugged. "Honestly, I would imagine that you would find that rather helpful. After all, you're a Grim Reaper, and I apparently reaped myself for you. Congratulations on a job well done!"

Maurice rubbed his temples, trying to ward off a massive migraine. "Normally, you choosing to play the martyr wouldn't matter one bit to me. People die all the time, and we don't really care if they didn't meet their heaven-chosen life goals. But, not you! For some odd reason, you are a lynchpin for the Earth's continued existence. You need to meet your goals, or everyone suffers!"

Intrigued, Harry leaned forward. "And what goals could Heaven have for little ole Harry Potter?"

Maurice looked down at the folder and read from it a manner that made it clear he had read the list before. "You are meant to kill Voldemort, transition the Wizarding World to the light while rooting out the hatred and bigotry, marry your soul-mate… some Granger girl, and die at a ripe old age of 176 years old. What you are not meant to do is to die prematurely 6 times and then choose to stay dead before killing Voldemort, nor get in a relationship with the Weasley girl, nor let the Granger girl get taken by someone else."

Harry looked confused. "Hermione as a soul mate? I always got more of an annoying sibling vibe from her. I mean, what would even be the celebrity couple name for us? Herry? Ponger? Grotter? That just sounds silly."

Maurice stared at Harry with confusion. "What… in… the world, are you talking about? Who cares about your celebrity couple name? No, don't answer! Let's just move forward. Normally you start asking about your previous deaths, don't you want to know about those?"

Harry leaned back into his chair. "Hit me!"

Maurice was feeling very off his game. Normally he would just yell at Harry for dying, and Harry would act very upset, confused, and contrite. He had never dealt with someone who had died so many times, so maybe the soul went a bit weird after a while. He pressed on.

"The first death was when the Dursleys left you in your cupboard for a month, and you died of dehydration"

"That would explain I had a thirst for vengeance as a kid"

"The second death was when you fell off your broom when Quirrell was cursing it."

"Well, I was young, I didn't really know how to comfortably hang out back then."

"Yes… well… the third death was when the basilisk's fang entered your heart instead of your shoulder."

"That bites"

"… What? Moving on, the fourth death was when Draco Malfoy tripped you and you fell from the top of the seventh-floor stairs."

"I thought you said was Hermione was my soulmate, but now you're saying I fell head over heals for Draco. Make up your mind!"

Maurice stared at Harry for a full minute, trying to gather his wits. "Are you taking this seriously?"

Harry leaned back further in his chair. "Nope"

Maurice looked back down at his list of deaths. There was only one more to go. "Listen, if you want to hear about the fifth death, the one before your most recent death, then you need to take this seriously!"

Harry spoke in a relaxed manner. "Then I guess I won't hear about the fifth death"

This was not how things were supposed to be going. He was a Grim Reaper, damnit! He was supposed to be in control of the situation, he was supposed to be respected, he wasn't supposed to be ignored like this, but still… "Come on, it was a good one. Don't you want to hear it?"

"Not really"

"Come oooooooon!"

Harry sighed. "… Fine"

"OK! Dumbledore didn't manage to subdue the Inferi in the lake of the Horcrux Cave. You had a running battle with the undead horde. You watched as Dumbledore fell to a horde of over fifty, buying you precious seconds to make it to the exit. You somehow managed to take out 37 of the fiends and made it one step out of the entrance when one tripped you. Another second, and you would have made it. They dragged you back in and then ripped you in to thousands of pieces. Even I was impressed by that one. Come on, you can't possibly feel like making a joke out of that one… can you?"

"Eh… I'm torn"

Maurice grunted in annoyance. "Fine, you don't care about your previous deaths. Whatever! Here's the deal. I am going to send you back into time, with your memories intact this time, so that you can fix everything that you messed up and meet your heavenly goals. This is your LAST chance! If you fail this time, then that is the end of all life on Earth. So, get up out of that ridiculous black massage chair and come along to meet with Fate so we can move things along. Huh, where did that chair even come from?"

At that point, the door to the office opened and a very nervous and confused Harry Potter walked into the room.

"What the hell!?"

Harry Potter walked into the drab office, and almost stepped back when a man angrily shouted, "What the hell!?"

Still, Harry was a Gryffindor, and he fully believed in the oft-disproved stereotypes that Gryffindors are courageous. So, he courageously didn't flee from the man who had yelled at no specific person, and the quietly spoke up politely. "Pardon me, I don't know what is going on. Is this the afterlife?"

A throat cleared, capturing Harry's attention. He looked down to see what appeared to be a very relaxed version of himself sitting in what looked to be the most comfortable chair he had ever seen.

The doppelganger spoke up. "Hi there Larry, I'm Dairy. I'll fill you in."

"My name is Harry"

"Sure, but you're the Local Harry, while I'm the Dimension Travelling Harry. So, you're Larry and I'm Dairy. Oh, but you're the Dead Harry while I'm the Living Harry. So, maybe I should be Larry and you should Dairy. Nah... that just sounds silly and confusing. Frankly, I don't think you trying to confuse me speaks very highly of you Larry."

"I'm ….sorry?"

"Apology accepted, Larry. Anyways, the short story is that you're dead. Your celebrity couple name was supposed to be Herotter or something like that. And your Grim Reaper is incompetent. Any questions?"

"Well…"

"Great, so do you want to go back in time and fix everything, or move on to the afterlife?"

"Go back? No, I chose to move forward. I'm just so tired, and I am ready to see my parents and everyone else again."

"Cool beans! Have fun." With that, a pillar of bright light covered Larry and sucked him up into the next step in the journey of the afterlife.

A stunned Maurice's mind finally caught up. "Who the hell are you? What did you just do?"

Maurice, not waiting for a response from Harry, rushed over to his desk and picked up his phone. "I need Fate to come to my office immediately. We have an intruder and a level 10 emergency. Harry Potter just got sent on to the afterlife without meeting his goals!"

Maurice slammed down the phone, glaring at this intruder. "I don't know how you did that, but we'll fix it. It's what we do. You might as well take a seat in your ridiculous chair, because there is absolutely no way anyone can leave this room until Fate herself declares the level 10 emergency is over. And, when Fate gets her hands on you…" Maurice shuddered in a combination of horror and anticipation.

The stranger smiled at Maurice, then walked over to the door to the lobby. Maurice smirked, knowing that the door no longer connected to the lobby. There were countless offices that all connected to the lobby door, but only for the amount of time it took for the next appointment to enter. Right now, not only was the door sealed completely, but it connected to an infinite void. As such, Maurice could be excused for being left speechless when the man opened the door (which was impossible), the door was connected to the lobby (which it shouldn't have been), stuck his head out the door (the portal was one-way into the office), yelled out a name to summon a deceased soul (who should only ever be able to hear the reception's voice), and pulled in the soul of a dead red head (which is difficult to say five times fast).

"Hey Fred, how's death treating you?" said the man.

Fred Weasley looked at the man curiously. "Harry?"

"Well, Larry's gone, so I guess I'm Harry again. Sure. So, being dead… enjoying it?"

"It's a bit… dull"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I got that feeling. Seems perfect for Larry, but not for a Gred or Forge."

"You got that right. So, where is my less handsome twin?"

"Still alive. Apparently, he wasn't willing to die while taking the time to appreciate Percy telling a joke."

Fred sighed. "I blame the hole in his ear. It threw off his sense of inappropriately timed humor appreciation."

"Well, holy men aren't known for their senses of humor."

"Too true, too true. Being more handsome and funnier is a true burden to carry."

Fred sighed. "Or, at least, it WAS a burden to carry. I guess I don't get to carry much of anything now that I'm dead. What happens now, Harry?"

"I would like to know that as well" spoke a woman who had just materialized into the room. Harry took in her frizzy hair and pale eyes and got the image of what it would like if Hermione and Luna had a child, and then inserted Percy Weasley's attitude into the child.

"Hi there, I'm Harry. Who are you?" asked a smiling Harry.

"I am the one in charge of this place. I am the one who ensures the mortal realm continues to run according to plan. I am the one who is VERY pissed off at some interloper setting off a Level 10 emergency that will see all mortal life ending within a century! I AM FATE!"

An unperturbed Harry continued to smile. "Nice to meet you FATE, can I call you Fate? Or isn't the whole name capitalized? This is Fred." A nervous Fred waved.

Fate ignored Harry for the moment and turned to Maurice. "Where is Potter?"

Maurice nervously responded. "This intruder sent him on to the afterlife. The Level 10 activation should have called for him to be returned, and I don't know why he isn't back yet."

Fate huffed in annoyance. "Why am I surrounded by incompetence? Fine, I'll pull him back."

Fate closed her eyes, opened them up, and frowned. She closed her eyes again and seemed to be straining to do something. Sweat began to pour down her face in small rivers (which was odd, since anthropomorphic representations of universal constants should not sweat). The ever-present blaring alarms started to form the theme song to Final Jeopardy. Finally, she opened her eyes and looked at Harry in horror.

"I have never been blocked from pulling a soul back. How are you doing that?"

Harry looked to Fred. "Forge, does a prankster reveal how he pulled a prank?"

Fred just smiled, seeming much more relaxed (being in Harry's corner after all). "No, well not unless he is lying."

"Excellent point my dear Gred"

Harry turned back to Fate. "I'll go with a lie then. The answer is… Magic Llama"

Fred spoke up helpfully. "It helps if you don't tell the person that you are lying."

Harry shrugged. "Noted"

While Fate was not used to dealing with massively powerful beings that dwarfed her powers, she was a big enough anthropomorphic representation to admit when she was defeated.

"What do you want?"

Harry touched Fred's shoulder, infusing his soul with a golden energy. Then turned back to Fate. "You were going to send Larry back in time, do it with Fred instead. I'm not really interested in the whole 'bringing people back to life' thing, but who am I to judge if it's your bag."

"I can't let him keep his memories from after his return."

Harry shrugged. "Makes sense. It would spoil the fun to know what is coming."

"He's not the chosen one, Voldemort will still win."

"Well, I chose him to go back. He's the only one I chose. Hence, he's a chosen one. That's just science!"

"That's not how it works… eh… whatever, it's only all life on the planet, right!?" Fate finished in the most sarcastic voice she could manage (it should be noted that the last time Fate was at her most sarcastic, she unintentionally caused the extinction of the dinosaurs. So, she could manage a decent level of sarcasm).

Harry, unaffected by the sarcasm, smiled. "That's the spirit! Now, chop chop!"

Fate huffed again in irritation, clapped her hands and Fred Weasley woke up in his bed. It was the morning he was to head off for his fifth year at Hogwarts ("also Harry's third year" he randomly decided to speak as exposition to himself).

Fate looked at the insufferable powerful being. "Are you happy now?"

Harry looked at her in confusion. "I never stopped being happy. Well, see later crocodile!"

With that, Harry walked over to Maurice's desk, and jumped into his Outbox Tray. He then disappeared from the dimension to the sound of someone saying "Goodbye" that would be irritatingly familiar to anyone who used AOL.

It ended up taking some time for Fate to understand what Harry had done. This was after she had returned to her office and discovered a button labeled "Selectively Suppress Fate's Powers", that was being pressed by the hoof a happy looking llama (wearing a button saying "Hello My Name Is Magic Llama").

She eventually learned that Fred indeed did not remember anything from his 5th year and beyond, but things had quickly changed anyway from his reinsertion. As best as she could tell, the golden light had given Fred permanent good luck, but he nor anyone else noticed the fact since the luck often took incredibly circuitous routes that rarely gave him what he aimed for but gave him something he liked even better. Also, there was now a new prophecy that explicitly made it clear that Fred was the Chosen One.

She didn't even bother trying to figure out how the local Harry Potter was still around on the mortal plain while his soul also was happily resting in the after-life with his parents. Yes, it was impossible, but at this point, barely anything was impossible anymore.

Of course, the dimension travelling Harry suspected all the above would occur.

What he would never know was how Fate would eventually retire and put her new pet llama in charge of the universe (which led to a Golden Age that lasted millions of years). Nor how Dumbledore ended up dancing an impressively spry jig around the Great Hall after leaving the Department of Mysteries where he verified Trelawney's latest prophecy "The old prophecy is voided. Fate's chosen is now Fred Weasley. He will easily defeat Voldemort. The defeater of Grindelwald can stop worrying, and just focus on his passion for teaching (or whatever). Also, the sexy lightning bolt scar is now curse free. Oh, and the defeater of Grindelwald would be well served to try out Lemon Heads. Prophecy Out!". As it turned out Dumbledore did not care for Lemon Heads, but it did lead to his discovery of Skittles (which he enjoyed immensely, and people actually accepted when offered).

He also wouldn't know of the many pranks that were pulled by Fred and George. There was the prank with the koala and bubble gum which ended up having Britain being annexed by Australia. There was the prank with the two tons of chocolate and single toothpick which ended up developing a perpetual motion machine that provide infinite power to the world. There was the prank which started with convincing Ron that he was invisible, getting him to sneak into the girls' showers, and a few more intermediary steps (many of which involved healing Ron's multiple contusions and concussions), eventually leading towards a joke business empire spanning multiple galaxies and a small kiosk in Harrods. There was also a small prank that Fred felt compelled to perform, which involved having three monkeys stand on each other's shoulders, dressed in a trench coat, and successfully sneaking them into an R rated movie.

Maurice ended up being demoted to receptionist, and the receptionist (Rebecca) took his job. It was quickly proven that Rebecca was a natural at the job, and apparently Maurice had just been that incompetent (he only messed up in his job as receptionist about 30% of the time).

As for the local Harry Potter, he ended up marrying an Australian Quidditch Seeker named Lorelai Granger (no relation to Hermione Granger). Teen Witch's headline to the marriage was "HaLo Married: A Match Made in Heaven".