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Thanks for dropping by and giving this story a chance! I really hope you will not be disappointed and will hit the 'Follow' and 'Favorite' buttons when you finish reading the following chapters.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction, inspired by the characters of the Harry Potter universe whose sole credit goes to J.K. Rowling.

Chapter 1: King's Cross Again

Harry opened his eyes and found his sight blinded by a bright white mist. He realized that he was missing his glasses. Yet, his vision felt perfect. However, all he could see around him was the brilliant white light. Despite its intensity, the light lacked any glare and the longer he looked through the mist, the thinner it became.

Harry's first thought was that he was still in his bed, because that was the last thing he remembered doing after the quiet drinks celebrating Ron's birthday. But then, he could feel the cold floor under his back and wondered where his bed had disappeared to. As a matter of fact, his clothes had vanished too. Was this one of his weird dreams?

Harry quietly got up; and as he did, he felt that he was wearing his trousers. He could've sworn that he wasn't wearing them a minute ago. Confused, he searched his pockets in the hopes of finding his wand, but his pockets were completely empty. A nagging feeling at the back of his mind told him that whatever was about to happen next, was important. And, his instincts had yet to fail him.

Harry looked up to see that the mist had cleared to reveal a brilliant glass dome and he had a peculiar feeling that he had visited this place before. His mind seemed questionably clearer, and yet he distinctly remembered having much too many drinks with Ron and Hermione last night. In fact, they had both coerced him into drinking with them, uncharacteristically Hermione had joined in with Ron, insisting that it was only fair since they were meeting after such long time. And Harry had guiltily given in.

Harry began looking around him enquiringly. He wasn't able to find much, other than a couple of chairs right in front of him. They had just appeared out of thin air. Right then, he heard a familiar voice call cheerfully.

"Harry!"

No sooner did Harry turn around to meet his sudden visitor; he was enveloped into a bear hug. For a brief moment, Harry felt warm and content in the familiar embrace before his senses warned him of the identity of the person. He carefully pulled away, only to look at the face of a person he had thought he would never see again.

"..Sirius?"

His voice only came out as a croak. But the dark-haired man just chuckled at Harry's expressions and nodded merrily.

"But…"

Harry was confused; he had last seen his godfather fall through the Veil at the Ministry in his fifth school year and the memory was still etched clearly and painfully in his mind. He could never ever forget the moment when he had lost his godfather, the only chance he ever had of a family.

"Weren't you thinking about me for a while, Harry? Are you not happy to see me?"

Sirius was pouting; something Harry had never seen him do. And he looked so different; younger and handsome, with a lot less lines on his face. And his godfather was right; Harry had indeed been thinking about him a lot lately. Sirius had been the closest family he had known and now that Harry was used to spending his life mostly alone, he just couldn't help missing his godfather. And wondering what his life would have been if Sirius was still alive…

"Of course, I am happy to see you. But how did you know I have been thinking about you?" Harry questioned.

Sirius did not answer promptly. Instead he gave Harry a wide knowing grin and started looking around them with an amused look on his face. Harry followed his eyes and gasped. They were inside the King's Cross station which was completely deserted except for the two of them.

His first thought was 'No way this can be real!'; but as he gradually took in his surroundings, Harry knew that this was happening for the second time in his twenty one years of lifetime.

Harry eyed Sirius suspiciously who was still gazing at him with a knowing look, with his hands in his pockets, a picture of complete leisure. Harry knew that he should probably ask him directly about his queries to know what was going on. At least Sirius was not Dumbledore and would probably give him a straight answer rather than cryptic riddles.

"I don't understand. The last time I was here, I had been supposedly killed by Voldemort." Harry wondered aloud.

Sirius frowned, looking away. Harry had a feeling that he was trying to avoid his eyes.

"I am sorry to tell you Harry, but only a similar circumstance could have brought you here again." Sirius informed him in a solemn voice.

Harry's mind went into a whirlwind after these words. Somehow, it made sense. This was exactly the same empty King's Cross station he had visited the last time he escaped death. But Voldemort was already dead; then who had killed him this time? Harry was in perfect health; there was no way he would've died in his sleep of natural causes. He had gained considerable experience with magic by now to know that it wasn't possible.

After finally finishing off Voldemort for good, Harry had spent the next three years of his life chasing after the Death Eaters and bringing them to justice. For all his painstaking efforts, he had eventually succeeded. There wasn't a single supporter of the Dark Lord left on the entire continent since the last year. It hadn't been easy; not when his two best friends had decided that they'd had enough of the war. Both Ron and Hermione had in fact tried to persuade Harry to 'live' his life a little, but Harry knew that all his efforts and sacrifices would simply go to waste if even a single follower of Voldemort was left to continue professing his ideals.

Harry had intensively studied the Dark Arts and all the spells the Death Eaters could possibly know, mostly in order to prepare his strategy against them. Unexpectedly, he had found that the Dark Arts came quite easily to him. Hermione had been visibly worried at that discovery, and had only relented when Harry had explained his purpose and demonstrated to her his counter spells. It had then occurred to Harry that an entire branch of magic was still unexplored by him and how little he actually knew about magic.

However, this meant that Harry had no time for any relationships in his life. He had broken it off with Ginny after she had started complaining about how he could never give her enough time or attention. In fact, his friendships with Ron and Hermione had also been strained as well since all they wanted was to move ahead in their lives. They both had got engaged to each other only last year and Harry only wished them happiness in life. But he had still carried on with his mission alone.

While his crusade was quite difficult, it wasn't impossible. And Harry had wiped out every single Death Eater from England, and later Europe. After that however, Harry had lost his purpose and interest in life. He had spent the whole of last year in seclusion; except for the last night that is. Ron and Hermione had visited him with the reminder that it was Ron's birthday and they had forced him to have some drinks with them 'just like old times'.

Harry distinctly remembered returning to his own bed last night after the drinks. Did any one find and murder me in his sleep? Was there a Dark Lord supporter still left out?

"No. But you did die in your sleep. Well, kind of." Sirius shrugged while he tried to explain.

Harry realized he had spoken the last sentence out loud. Huh, so if no one had murdered him in his sleep, but he died in his sleep? That just meant that he was poisoned. But he had only met Ron and Hermione last night, since he had refused to go to the party at the Burrow. But that means... ?

"Did they…?"

Harry breathed the question and wished with all his heart that the answer would be 'No'.

"Yes." Came the blunt reply, shattering Harry's heart completely.

"Why?" Harry choked, overwhelmed with the unexpected blow.

"That's a bit hard to explain… Human emotions are always quite difficult to comprehend and I can only guess the reason. Are you sure you want to know?" Sirius asked in a concerned voice.

By now Harry was enraged to his core. Voldemort had been his enemy; but Ron and Hermione were his friends, at least he had thought them to be. He never even saw this betrayal coming. But now he had to know the reason.

"Yes. I'm sure." He hissed.

"Well, the way I see it, they must have misinterpreted some of Dumbledore's instructions." Sirius began, eyeing him.

"What?" Harry couldn't help being startled. Dumbledore had left some instructions to them regarding him?

"Dumbledore had left them some instructions pertaining to you. He suspected the possibility of you turning towards the darker realms of magic once you had nothing significant to occupy yourself with. And you being the owner of all the three Hallows, he couldn't risk the rise of another Dark Lord. An invincible Dark Lord at that!"

"But why would he think I would purposely become a Dark Lord when I had the first-hand experience of having suffered at the hands of one?" Harry interrupted, confused.

Sirius sighed.

"Being a Dark Lord doesn't necessarily mean being evil, Harry. I know you have always associated 'dark' as evil, since all you have only been familiar with the worse aspects of it. The truth is Harry, that you have a natural affinity for the Dark Arts."

"Yes, but how could Dumbledore know that when he died? I started studying them after the war!" Harry couldn't help being surprised again.

"Being a Parselmouth is one of the most telling signs of a dark wizard. Wasn't Slytherin always the first choice for you according to the Sorting Hat?" Sirius cocked a brow.

Harry was a bit startled, at the facts that were being relayed to him right now and also because he had never had the chance to tell the real Sirius about his conversation with the Hat. Also the Sirius Black he knew; definitely didn't hold the Dark Arts in such high regards. This man was definitely not the real Sirius Black. But he couldn't even be a creation of his mind; since Harry himself never knew about Dumbledore's instructions.

Sirius just gave him a charming smile, as if he knew what conclusion Harry had reached in his mind. But right now, Harry wanted some answers to the questions he had almost been distracted from.

"So what exactly were the instructions left by Dumbledore?" Harry asked, couldn't help keeping a bit of venom in his voice.

Sirius turned thoughtful at the question. "He may have implied that if you start turning your back from living your life and alienating your friends; and start gravitating towards the Dark Arts, then they should be warned that these were clear signs of you inclining on becoming the next Dark Lord."

"Really? That's all someone has to do to start becoming the next Dark Lord?" Harry was feeling betrayed as well as furious at Dumbledore for thinking him the same as Voldemort. How could the man predict his future just by stating a few signs! And then something clicked.

"Hang on, he never told them to murder me, did he?" Harry enquired, his eyebrows fading into his messy hair.

"No." Sirius replied quietly. He seemed to think a bit before adding, "Albus Dumbledore was always a firm believer in the ability of humans to make their own choices."

So, Ron and Hermione themselves had decided that he was beyond redemption. Or they just wanted to spend their perfect lives in peace instead of worrying about the rise of another Dark Lord. Yes, that actually made sense. He glanced at Sirius who was giving him a sheepish look, as if confirming his suspicions.

Harry let out a long sigh as he sank down into one of the seats. He had a lot of new information to wrap his mind around. He still couldn't believe that his closest friends had betrayed him enough to murder him in his sleep; even Voldemort hadn't been that cruel. And how could they think that he could become a Dark Lord; didn't they know him well enough. At least they could've asked him about his isolation; surely he wouldn't have murdered them for asking questions.

He was distracted from his musings when he felt his companion join him at the adjacent seat. Sirius put a comforting hand around his shoulders in an effort to console him, but it only served to turn Harry's attention on his person. Why was Sirius here instead of Dumbledore, like the last time?

"You aren't really Sirius Black, are you?" Harry asked.

Sirius gave him an amused glance before saying in an emotionless tone, "You have grown quite perceptive over the years. Sadly, the Sirius Black you knew is dead."

"This isn't really happening inside my head, is it?" Harry asked after a few moments of contemplation over the fact that he still deeply missed his godfather.

"No." came a short reply.

"But why Dumbledore, the last time?" Harry couldn't help asking.

This time his lips twitched a little before explaining, "The last time you were here, you needed Dumbledore's guidance. He was the person you wished was still alive to instruct you about how to proceed. This time however, you required your godfather."

Harry could only nod in acceptance. He thought over his situation once again.

"So, what choices do I have this time?" He asked bluntly, knowing that it was inevitable. There was no point in delaying the decision; the sooner he knew his options the better.

"Infinite, actually."

Harry stared at the man beside him, who was smiling a bit smugly.

"Explain." He prodded, when the man didn't elaborate.

"You can do anything you want. You could go back to the very bed you were sleeping in before you died, and continue your life from there. Or you could go back and relive your whole life with all the knowledge and power you already possess. Just back in time though, not to the future since it doesn't already exist."

Harry thought about what he had just heard. Now, this was entirely different from the last time. He only had two choices then and he had chosen to go back where he had left. He wondered if he would've gotten these choices then, would his decision have been any different. Harry knew one thing for sure: he wasn't going back to his time. There was nothing left to go back to.

"And who are you really?" Harry asked. The question had been bugging him for quite some time now.

"Anyone you want me to be; since I do not have a mortal form. I am Death." The man replied solemnly, in a very non-Sirius way.

Harry did not feel surprised at the declaration; he had suspected it but was just glad to be confirmed. Everyone knew that he had lost the Resurrection Stone in the forest, but the fact was that the next day he had found the stone right beside him when he awoke and he had kept that a secret. Harry indeed had all the three Deathly Hallows in his possession ever since he became their Master since the last four years. The Hallows had given him their allegiance and nothing could keep them finding their way to him even when Harry kept misplacing them.

"I do not want to go back to the time I just left. And I don't even want to relive my entire life once again; not when I know where that life led me to. I must admit however, the temptation to teach all of them a lesson does exist." Harry admitted aloud.

Sirius/Death merely gave him an understanding look, as if to say that whatever decision he made will be acceptable to him.

They both sat in companionable silence for a while as Harry thought about what he wanted to do. He just couldn't think of a time he wanted to go back to.

"I only want one thing." Harry finally said.

"And what might that be?" Sirius/Death enquired.

"I want to learn. Everything there is to learn about magic. I want you to teach me everything I can learn and help me become the best wizard that I could always be. I have realized that my magical education has been far from complete." Harry added the last bit bitterly.

This time, Sirius/Death smiled.

"A fitting request. Not that I undermine your own efforts in learning whatever you could in the past few years of your life, I do think that you've had the worst set of teachers possible during your magical education, except of course a few." He added after Harry raised his eyebrow. "There is a reason wizards and witches are educated from the age of eleven to seventeen; your magical core grows and suitably changes with your advancements."

Harry was confused why Death was telling him about all this now. He was well past the growing stage now. And then it struck him.

"You are planning to send me back to being eleven, aren't you?" he accused.

Sirius merely raised his eyebrow, amused.

"I am not planning anything, Harry. However, it is you who plans to learn as much as you can." He stated, matter-of-factly.

Harry bowed his head into his hands and tried to think about all that it would mean for him.

"I'll still have my memory intact, won't I?" he asked worriedly, dreading a negative answer.

"Of course. You did retain your memory the last time we chatted, didn't you? However, if you don't want to, I can oblige you."

"No." Harry answered quickly. A bit too quickly, judging by the smug smile on Sirius's face. "I mean, no thank you."

Sirius merely shrugged, indifferent to his choice.

"Do I have to change my name?" Harry queried.

"Unfortunately, yes. Your last name just… stands out a bit. Don't you worry, I have the perfect name for you."

Harry wanted to ask about the name Death himself had settled for him, but there was a more important question, at the back of his mind.

"Will you come with me? Wherever I'll be going?"

Sirius looked at him, his grey eyes losing the usual haughtiness. "I'm afraid I won't; I can't stay in the living world for too long."

"But the whole point is for you to teach me everything. How can you do that if you don't come with me?"

"Don't you worry about that, I can always bring you back to this plane whenever required. I'll always answer to your call, Master of Death." Sirius said, bowing to him, though mockingly.

"Hmm, so I'll have to be eleven again as well as an orphan. Why don't I just stay here instead of going back to the living world?" Harry mused.

"Because you don't belong here; you belong to the living world. Besides, this plane doesn't even exist in time, so you can't turn eleven here. And don't worry about being an orphan, I know you like living independently so I'll arrange things accordingly. I said that I can't stay in the living world for a long time, not that I can't stay at all." Sirius explained, with a wink.

"Oh." Harry had a feeling that for once, he could trust someone to take care of his choices. Besides, Death did make a great impression of Sirius.

"You haven't decided the time, Harry." Sirius reminded him after Harry had gone silent for a long time.

"Any time is fine, as long as I don't meet any familiar faces." Harry replied.

Sirius looked thoughtful for a minute. "Avoiding all of them wouldn't be possible, without sending you back to a very conservative and medieval age. And that won't do."

"I just don't want to be reminded about all the people I have lost. Some of whom, I never even had a chance to know about. I really don't want that." Harry half explained, half pleaded. He wasn't ready to meet his parents just yet, or Sirius. Well, the real Sirius or Remus!

"I'll keep that in mind." Sirius answered, solemnly.

Harry nodded.

He suddenly heard a familiar train whistle and soon the scarlet steam engine of Hogwarts Express enveloped in her own smoke stopped right in front of their seats.

Harry looked at Sirius, but he just shrugged.

"Your choice, Harry."

Harry knew exactly what he wanted to do and boarded the train without any word. When the train started moving, he heard Sirius's booming voice calling to him, "Don't forget to have fun while you're at it, Harry. For all your pains, you do deserve that."

Harry suddenly wondered exactly what Death had planned for him. Whatever it was, he was going to follow Death's advice for sure!

Author's Note:

I would love to have your feedback for the chapter. Please do leave your opinions in the reviews. Next chapter will be up soon.

Happy reading!