Author's note: This is my first ever fanfiction! It's an idea that I've been wanting to write for a while now but I never actually got round to doing it until now, I'd really appreciate it if you left a quick review because I'd love to know what you think of it! This chapter might seem quite slow moving but it's just as a bit of a prologue rather than the actual story itself.

Disclaimer: No, I obviously don't own Harry Potter.

Forever is Composed of Nows.

Chapter 1

It was the last day of November 1998, the first snowfall of the year. 1998. The year that Lord Voldemort had been defeated, the year where the final battle had finally commenced. The year that the wizarding world had been promised peace once again. He should've been happier. Merlin knows everybody else was. Harry Potter stood on the edge of the great lake, relishing what had been a rare ten minutes of silence and solitude away from awed gazes and warmth-filled words of thanks around every corner. He should've been prouder.

Looking up at the beautiful castle above him, one would never have known of the terror and tragedy that had taken place within those old stone walls just a mere six months beforehand. The school stood tall and magical, safe again. The winter sunlight was reflecting off the windows, and the snow was layered atop the many roofs and turrets that Hogwarts possessed. The mountains behind it were tall and white, contrasting sharply with the clear blue sky, bordering it and keeping its secrets safe. It was a happy picture - similar to the opening scene of a muggle movie, or a picture from a fairytale. At least, it should've been a happy picture, but Harry couldn't bring himself to see beyond the horror. To see beyond the final battle like everybody else had. Everywhere he laid his eyes on for too long brought back gruesome memories he'd never be able to forget.

Take the astronomy tower as an example, it was one of the five main towers of Hogwarts, directly in the centre of the magnificent building. Unlike the four other towers which were situated on each corner, the astronomy tower didn't have a spired roof, instead it had a turreted wall encircling it, making it perfect for stargazing. It was slightly taller than the others, making it the highest part of the building and undeniably breathtaking. If Harry shut his eyes, he saw flashes of red and green curses being thrown, two Ravenclaw students who were clearly underage lying on the stone floor, unseeing, dead. Professor Albus Dumbledore, the greatest wizard in centuries, falling, falling..

"Harry!" Hermione's voice thankfully shook him out of his trance. The brown haired witch was heading towards him, hand in hand with Ron and a big smile plastered on her face. Ron's nose was red from the cold air as they trudged through the snow. Despite his previous low mood, Harry couldn't help but return the smile - after years of denying their feelings for one another his two best friends had finally started dating and that, at least, was something to be happy about.

"We've been looking for you," she continued as they reached him, "everything alright?"

Harry sighed and looked back up to the castle. "Yeah," he replied, "I just can't believe after all this time it's finally finished."

Ron made a small grunt of agreement. "Tell you what mate, helping put those wards back up drained the life out of me, I could quite happily fall asleep right here and not wake up 'til Christmas." Today marked the day that the reconstruction of Hogwarts was finally, entirely complete. From patching up the smallest tapestry to fixing every last smashed window to reconstructing the fallen walls in the great hall and finally, the last job, reapplying the various protective wards around the school and its vast grounds.

Classes had been reintroduced slowly since september - due to a shortage in staff and an increased number of students (what with all the new eighth years who had missed out on their seventh year) the school wouldn't be reopening normally until after the christmas break. Harry himself, would not be returning for his eighth year, instead opting to go straight into auror training with Ron. Despite not having any NEWT qualifications for obvious reasons, the ministry had been more than happy to take The Chosen One and his best friend on board. The Chosen One, Merlin how he hated that title. The only reason the two boys were even at Hogwarts currently was to help finish off the castle repairs. Hermione, of course, was repeating her seventh year, she was hoping to get a job at the ministry once she graduated, something to do with that SPEW organisation of hers. She would undoubtedly achieve her goals, Hermione Granger was incredibly determined, and they didn't call her the brightest witch of her age for nothing.

The three Gryffindors made their way towards the entrance half of the castle, the light was dimming outside and dinner would be starting soon. As they walked, Harry was reminded just how grateful he was for them as he laughed at a joke Ron had just told. Hermione gave a mock disapproving look as the redhead basked in the glory of not having to complete his NEWTs, adding "Being best friends with the most famous boy in the wizarding world does have its perks I guess," with a cheeky grin at Harry. Harry just rolled his eyes and smirked.

It's true, being famous did have its perks but the boy-who-lived couldn't help being a bit resentful about it all. He never asked for this, any of this. And he'd swap his fame anyday if it meant that all the innocent lives lost in the war could be returned. Merlin, he'd give his life up again and again just for Remus and Tonks to be able to watch Teddy grow up, for Colin Creevey to be able to see the world of magic beyond Hogwarts, for Fred to be returned to his family, smiling and laughing with George. As if he hadn't tried, but fate just didn't seem to want him to die. Harry shook his head once, sharply. No matter what, his train of thought always seemed to end up in the same place, this place. His emotion always ended up the same, guilt. Harry could feel this guilt again now, he should be happy, like everybody else. Voldemort was dead! He'd killed him! He should be able to laugh freely and do everything that eighteen year olds did. Instead his mind was stuck in this endless, tiresome cycle of what could've beens. He'd given the rest of the world their hope, so where was his own?

Dinner in the great hall passed in a blur, he laughed and chatted and smiled with everybody else, and when it was time to leave he kissed Ginny goodnight. Harry felt a smile tugging at his lips as he thought of the beautiful redhead he was lucky enough to call his girlfriend. In a world in which he was lost, she above all was keeping him afloat. Instead of heading to the Gryffindor common room with the group as he usually did in the evenings, he excused himself straight to his private dorms claiming tiredness. Although to a certain extent it was true, Harry knew that sleep wouldn't find him tonight. This low mood always hit him at the most random of times, ambushing him when he least expected it.

Mumbling the password to the portrait outside his dorms, he stepped inside and collapsed onto the sofa. He dropped his head and pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers, squeezing his eyes tight shut. He, of course being The Chosen One had been given private dorms, as had Ron and Hermione, although they tended to share.

Harry stayed in this position for a good few minutes, his head spinning slightly. Opening his eyes at last, Harry flicked his wand limply at the fireplace and it burst into flames, crackling too merrily in the grate and filling the silence of his room with white noise.

"Oh, dear lad," muttered a voice. Harry's head snapped up and he jumped to his feet, his wand clutched in his right hand as his heart rate sped up rapidly.

"Who's there?" he asked into his empty living quarters with false confidence. He hadn't survived this long just to be attacked by some runaway Death Eater now.

The voice chuckled slightly, "Look up, boy," it commanded, though the voice was surprisingly soft.

Glancing up, Harry noticed a portrait above the fireplace which was certainly not there before. "Hello?" he asked, "Who... who are you?" Harry wasn't even sure if it was a who, or a human, for that matter. In the large painting above the fire a shadowed figure loomed, it didn't seem to have a face - or perhaps it's black cloak was just hiding it. But no, what was really worrying Harry wasn't the cloak or the darkness surrounding the figure, it was it's hands. Harry could quite confidently say that no human he'd ever met had hands like that. Long and bony, they were the size of a small acromantula. This thing definitely wasn't human. Harry couldn't decide whether to be awed or terrified of this thing, and settled for a bit of both.

"Why, my friend, don't you recognise me?" the figure asked. Harry, who was now feeling slightly eased at being referred to as 'friend' did not recognise him, as a matter of fact, but before he could answer the portrait continued. "You see it's rather funny, I'm as old as time itself, many a witch or wizard has tried to conquer me," he paused ponderingly. "None have succeeded of course, not until now. You, just eighteen years old and with the weight of the world on your shoulders at the time, became the first master of death."

Harry sucked in a breath of air. "Wait, Death? You're Death?" he asked, shocked.

The portrait, Death, seemed rather smug. "Oh, indeed I am, boy - or should I say Master?" he stopped, suddenly. "No, sorry boy, facts aside, my pride has been damaged enough at being defeated by an eighteen year old, I can't bring myself to call you Master. Just take pride in the knowledge that you are, in fact the Master of Death."

Harry just stood, dumbfounded. "Is this some sort of a cruel trick? Is Voldemort going to jump out and yell 'surprise' now?" he asked suddenly stonily. "Because I can tell you right now that I am sick and tired of his stupid games."

Death snorted. Snorted? Can Death snort? Apparently. The thought made Harry oddly uncomfortable. "No of course I'm not, boy!" casually stepping out of his portrait, he carried on, "I always did hate that man, although it was quite amusing how terrified he was of me, I must admit. He'd do anything to evade me. But death always catches up in the end."

Harry hardly heard the last part because he was too fixated on the fact that Death, yes Death, was standing in his living area. Unconsciously, he shifted towards the door a bit. "And are you here to kill me?" he asked. "When I've finally got something to live for, you've come to kill me?"

Death was at least a good eight feet tall, not that he could really tell because he seemed to be floating. He reminded Harry eerily of a dementor. "My, my, you are rather slow on the uptake, aren't you? You're the Master of Death, the first Master of Death for that matter. You were in possession of all three Deathly Hallows at the same time. I can't harm you."

Harry blinked. "But, how? I never claimed the title, I may have had all three hallows, but I didn't care, I didn't even mean to do it, and I snapped the Elder Wand!"

Death glared a bit. "Thanks for that, by the way. But as I was saying, it doesn't matter whether you meant to do it or not, you had all the Hallows at once, something nobody else has ever been able to accomplish. Not only that, perhaps most importantly, you didn't fear me. When it was your time to go, you accepted Death and, as the story goes, greeted me as an old friend. It doesn't matter that you didn't actually die, didn't work out for any of us there. Except you."

"So, I'm the master of Death, I can't die?"

"Not if you don't want to, no. You could live forever if you wanted. Which, by the time you're six hundred, you probably won't."

Harry stared at Death rather blatantly, this was certainly a lot to take in. "Wait so I could be immortal, really? Voldemort spent his whole life trying to achieve immortality and I've had it given to me on a silver platter?" He could help but smirk. "I mean, what… What else can I do?" Harry's eyes suddenly lit up. "Can you bring people back from the dead?"

Death huffed, "That's one of the only things I can't do, and even if I could they'd become bitter. The dead don't belong in the mortal world, you know that."

Harry plonked himself back down on the sofa. "Then what's the point?"

"There is something else I could do though.. Indirectly, I suppose, you could bring people back from the dead, or prevent their deaths. It's risky though, you could leave the world a worse place than it was when you started. You'd have to do it right."

"I'm not following," Harry said.

"Well, I said you could live forever, it doesn't necessarily have to be in your body. You could be reincarnated as somebody else, you could stop the war at its heart."

"Okay, I think I'm following, but that's crazy," he breathed.

Death shrugged, heading back towards the portrait. "Yes, but you can think about it, I suppose. Anyway, I must head off, important business I need to attend to."

"No, wait!" Harry shouted. "I'll do it, I'll do it!"

Death turned back around, "You're sure?" he asked.

"Yes, I'm sure. But, where will I go?"

"Now that would take the fun out of it, wouldn't it?" Death smirked. "There has to be something in it for me too, you know. But I'll tell you this, you'll be reincarnated into a different body, at a different time. Not too far from the present, though. You'll keep your memories."

Harry nodded slowly. "But what about here? What will everybody think when I'm suddenly gone?"

"Let me take care of that, I'm not called Death for nothing. You're still up for it?"

Before Harry could even think of answering, Death was gone. "Wait! Where are you?" His answer fell into an empty silence as he was lifted up. He felt a sharp tug behind his navel reminding him of the sensation of travelling via portkey. But it was rather more pleasant, he decided. He was floating up slowly, peacefully, and when he looked down, Harry Potter was lying on the sofa, unbreathing. His eyes were shut peacefully, but he was clearly dead. Wait, Harry Potter was lying dead on the sofa! But he was Harry Potter! And suddenly he was spinning. Spinning away from the room, away from the castle and into an inky darkness. His last thought before he blacked out was fuck.

Soooo, that's the first chapter done! Hope you liked it and please leave a quick review so I know what you think. Bye!