TITLE: Beforewards

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter.

A/N: Don't forget to leave a review.

SUMMARY: At Kings Cross, Harry meets someone other than Dumbledore. That someone sends Harry back in time to change things. Can Harry, with his future knowledge and new mentor, change his future for good? Or will this time travel not have the desired effects?

CLARIFICATIONS:

'Merlin talking to Harry in his head'

'Harry talking to Merlin in his head'

CHAPTER: 20

Light consumed him, not darkness as one would expect. And then the pain. Screaming, writhing, furious pain. Burning through his mind, not unlike the Cruciatus Curse, but not alike it at all. The Cruciatus attacked the body and the mind, pain all over. This was his navel, his magic tug at his stomach, at his limbs, at his mind.

"He's dying! He's laying there dying and you're doing FUCK ALL!"

"Mr Weasley!"

"Look! Fix him! Fix him, right now or I swear to bloody Merlin-"

"Ronald, calm down-"

Voices echoed around in his mind. Ron's cracking voice screamed out, and Harry could picture his face, tears streaming. He had seen it before in the war, when the Horcrux had warped his mind. But this time, Ron was shouting for him, not at him. Harry could feel his accidental magic wrapping around him, Ron's core trying to feeling the need to protect and reaching out. He could also feel Hermione's gentler touch, her lighter magical core trying to help, but failing.

"Madam Pomfrey, Headmaster, Professor, can..please, just help him, please, please, please..."

"We cannot." Dumbledore's voice felt like a soother for his mind, it moved quickly and easily through his screeching, burning headache, cutting over Hermione's begging. Not stopping the pain, but gently reassuring him that he was there, like a guardian watching over him. "We cannot help him."

"But Albus-"

"There is nothing we can do, Minerva." A worn hand came over his forehead, and Harry recognised it immediately as Dumbledore's. A hand latched onto his own left one; McGonagall's. A warmth went through his heart, but it did nothing to quell his pain. "Harry must fight this himself." The man breathed a deep sigh, and leaned down to his ear so no one else could hear him but Harry. "Your destiny awaits you, Harry. Realise it, accept it and the Hallows shall come to you, wand, cloak, stone and all. Accept it, Harry. It's your birthright, your destiny." There was a pause. Another deep breath, causing his beard to tickle Harry's ear. "Go into your mind and remember, You are immune to His strengths as He is weak to yours. You are equals."

The shock of Dumbledore's knowledge pushed Harry over the edge and he screamed. Magic, his magic, Merlin's magic that he had grown so used to, surged out from beneath his skin and the windows of the Hospital Wing shattered in a symphony with his furious, pain-filled cries. All gathered around the bed were thrown back against the opposite wall with yells and frantic wand waving from the elders to protect the younger students. Ron stretched for Hermione the second he reached the ground, tucking her under his body as McGonagall performed a complex shield charm around them. Inside Harry's mind, a wave of black liquid, not unlike a dementors cloak, the blood of a horcrux, the fur of a Grimm, the feathers of a raven, the skin of a thestral flooded through.

Death's colour. Harry recognised that now. Death was everywhere, Merlin had said. Around us all. Whether loved, loving, thoughtless, thoughtful, living, dead, the ones who conform to time and the ones who don't. That had been Merlin's warning. The ones who don't conform to time. But Harry was a Peverell, the last of the Peverell's. He was Death's Master. And Dumbledore was right, Death is weak to his strengths as he was immune to Death's. It was not control, Harry thought as he focussed on trying to struggle his snarling magic back and trying to wrestle it down, it was an equal power. It was...

Respect.

His mind morphed at once into a large, open space. Black onyx all around, covering every inch of the room. 'The mind is a temple', was this his? His temple? A door appeared at the end of the room. Harry walked to it, his footsteps echoing against the floor into the silence. There was no handle. Just a dark black door with the sign of infinity burned onto it with fire, a glowing red sign. He rested a hand on it and pushed and it creaked open. As soon as he walked through, a large hand-like thing came down strongly on his shoulder and the door slammed shut with the familiar click of a lock. Harry took a deep breath and turned his head to see the cretaure on his left. The air he had just breathed in was punched out of him.

His mother. With her long, dark red hair, lithe structure and green eyes. Stood right in front of him, with her hand on his shoulder.

Tears filled his eyes immediately, "Mum?"

His mother shook her head and smiled pityingly. She took her hand off of his shoulder, stepped back and her image faded. Harry stared at where she had been in shock. Where was he? A place in his mind that showed him cruel images of his mother?

"I apologise, Master," a raspy wheeze came from behind him and Harry spun, his hand coming up and wind blowing up to his call, getting ready to launch whoever it was off of their feet. He didn't like it when people snuck up on him. Especially people who called him...Master. Because there was only one who would ever call him Master.

He turned slowly on the spot, holding his hand out in front of him for protection, just in case. His eyes widened when he spotted the creature known as Death. It...was him. Not him now, but him, Harry Potter, as an adult. Dressed in all black; a button down tucked into slacks and over was a black pea coat. Not what he had expected Death to wear.

"You're me." Harry said, cautiously.

Death inclined his head and bowed, his arms behind his back. "I am Death."

Harry frowned, "Yes. But..why are you me?"

"You are my Master, as such were your ancestor's. I model myself after them."

So..not him, then. Now that he looked more closely, Death was a practically a twin, all apart from his eyes. Deep brown eyes, like his father's, like the Peverell's.

Harry gestured behind him, a little more relaxed, but ready to spring like a coil if he needed to, "Why was my mother's image there?"

Death appeared somewhat chastised, "I was testing you to see if you were my Master, or the clever wielder."

"Clever wielder?" Harry asked, frowning. But then it came to him and his face lit up, not a smile, but hope in his chest, "Merlin? Where is he?"

"Merlin of the Clan of Merlin is still in your mind, Master. He is my minion, he looks over my Master in a way I cannot."

"But why hasn't he said anything? Why hasn't he helped me?"

Death took a step closer, and Harry took a step back. The Eternity stopped, looking slightly down, but Harry wasn't about to trust Death. If that was what this thing said he was. "The wielders on earth have radical ideas. Perhaps he wishes for you to meet me without his guidance. Albus Dumbledore of the House of Dumbledore guided you as much as he, a mortal, could, so Merlin will perhaps await your return to the living. I do not pretend to understand him and his mind."

Harry shook his head, trying to understand. He looked Death straight in the eye, brown and white meeting together, "Why am I here? Why did I have Merlin explaining to me about my 'destiny', about my 'heritage' and then he goes silent and pain shoots through my skull like I'm dying?! Why did I have to suffer through so much shitty pain to just 'accept myself'?! I thought I had!"

Death gestured with a hand and two leather seats opposite each other with a table in the middle with a glass of blue liquid that Harry immediately recognised on it appeared out of thin air. Harry sighed, sunk into the seat and downed the pain potion in one. He grimaced at the taste but nodded slightly in thanks to Death, who smiled sympathetically. That was not something Harry thought he would ever see. Death steepled his hands and studied Harry over them for a minute before sighing and beginning to talk.

"Realisation and acceptance is a large part of magic, Master-"

"You can just call me Harry."

"Magic is not just want and it comes out to answer your call, Master. Anyone's magic will do so." Harry recalled feeling his friends' magic trying to help, but not being able to. "It doesn't matter if the wielder is weak or strong, whatever magic in their core, if they're desperate enough, will call up to answer their prayers. Sometimes, in more dangerous forms, the wielders on earth call this 'accidental magic'. For children, accidental is the correct wording. They don't mean to, they do not understand the relationship between a wielder and his magic. How if someone cares for one, the other will rise up and care for the other. When Merlin informed you of your status as my Master, realisation, not acceptance, occurred. The magic that came from Me, to give back to Merlin, to give to you in aid of your journey, Master, was accepted into you on your first night back in time. You accepted the magic as your own. But when the Peverell Death magic tried to melt into your core, your lack of acceptance prevented the merge, and as the magic is quite substantial as it is the magic of the most powerful Eternity, it tried to fight for its place in your core. To prove itself to its Master, as it would not accept anyone else. This meant that your core was at war with itself and your body went into a magical coma, where your mind stayed the same, even if there was a battle commencing. Right now we are in your mind 'temple' as you so accurately named it on your arrival. This is where Merlin resides when he aids your mission of survival, Master."

Harry was silent for a few minutes after the explanation. It made sense to him now, though he hadn't heard anyone ever talk about acceptance and magical acceptance.

Death, possibly reading his mind, said, "At your trial, the wielders asked you if you accepted your responsibilities as Lord Potter-Black-Peverell. They asked if you swore to uphold their traditions. You accepted. Your Lordship magic, your three House's Magic's moulded into your core. It is in society, this knowledge, just forgotten. Much like my Hallows."

Harry started at that name and immediately asked, "Do you know how Dumbledore knew about me? Being the Master of Death? Because he said right before i came in here that if I accepted my 'destiny' then the Hallows would appear to me."

Death thought for a moment before nodding and twisting his lips wryly in what Harry thought was maybe a smile, "House Dumbledore has always been more informed than they should have been about the magic of Eternity's, especially young Albus. So obsessed with me, defeating me, my magic, my mark, loving me, respecting me. He is interesting, I shall have to watch him more often." Death turned to him and met his eyes, "Trust in House Dumbledore, they are always on the right side of history, in the end. The same with House Prince."

Harry frowned, "House Prince?"

"Severus Snape is the rightful Lord to the Prince House. Trust in him, I know you know to after all, you have the future knowledge, but that is my advise. As for how Lord Dumbledore knew, he is clever. Most intelligent amongst the wielders. Question him if you wish to know truthfully." Then, Death stood, Harry followed, and then Death bowed, low.

"My Master. It was a pleasure. I shall return you now, you have accepted your magic." The Eternity walked over to him, and this time Harry stayed in the same place. He held out his arms on a whim and Death smiled and clasped his freezing hands around his wrists. "What is another scar, Master? Battle-scars mark the best warriors. Be warned, for many know this as another's mark." He removed his hands in the their places the sign of the Deathly Hallows, Deaths sign, was there surrounded by small infinity loops, they were tattooed into his skin. Death then reached and cupped Harry's cheek in a fond fatherly gesture.

"Master." was whispered as a raspy breeze and Harry's eyes glazed over and the next time he opened them, he was on a bed in the Hospital Wing in Hogwarts with Ron and Hermione standing warily over him and far apart from each other with slight blush on their cheeks. He didn't want to know what happened whilst he was out.

"Harry!" Ron laughed loudly and threw his arms around him. Harry groaned as his muscles spasmed and Ron released him quickly, apology on his face was masked by the huge, blinding smile. Hermione grasped his hand and smiled, happy tears shining in her eyes. Ron cleared his throat, looked behind him and clapped Harry's shoulder, not letting go once getting contact with his shoulder. When Ron moved aside, he found that sat on the bed was Neville, who was being treated for a broken arm by Madam Pomfrey, who looked over and promised to be over in a minute and Dumbledore's proud gaze.

"Well done, Harry. I am very proud of you." the Headmaster said, and Harry smiled back at the man.

"Thank you, Headmaster." Dumbledore nodded, answering the unasked question quickly.

"When you are feeling better, please come to my office, I would like to speak with you." He nodded to Hermione, Ron, Neville and Pomfrey and left the room at his normal quick pace.

Neville stood from the bed, and walked over as Ron explained what had happened, "Well, Nev' started shouting, course he did, screaming and shouting at us to wake up and that he was going to get McGonagall so, when Neville shouts, you move don't you? But the door was locked, Pomfrey said she reckoned it was your magic or something so Nev' started banging on the door and shouting at someone to get a Professor and that Harry was in trouble, so then obviously a load people started running for her office, and Dumbledore's, she looked proper shocked and scared when she showed as well so I reckon it was loads of them. But when she showed up, even she couldn't get the door open, so Nev' told us to stand back and ran at the door! Slammed into he did, his arm went right through it, knocked the whole thing down."

Neville grinned at Harry shyly and scratched the back of his neck with his good arm, "Broke my arm but it was worth it." His eyes grew concerned, "You alright, Harry? Madam Pomfrey said it was something to do with chaotic magic? Was it..like mine?"

Hermione and Ron looked interested, but Harry only shook his head at them and they didn't barge into the conversation. He looked to Neville, "Not quite, but similar I guess. How's the new wand working for you? Better?"

Nodding, Neville brought it out of his pocket and showed it to them, "Amazing. Thanks, Harry."

"No problem, 'Nev." He clapped his hands together. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a meeting with Dumbledore." And then ring searching, he thought to himself.

A/N: Listened and watched Harry Potter videos on youtube whilst writing this chapter, you know the ones that are edited amazingly and put together with music. Very inspirational. Hope you like it and don't forget to leave a review!