Harry knew he was walking towards his death and yet... he was at peace. The chance to talk to Sirius and Remus again, as well as being blessed to finally be able to talk to his parents, left him at ease with his fate. As he drew the attention of Voldemort, he tuned out to whatever villain spiel he was saying, instead focusing on the Resurrection Stone he held in his fist. He originally planned on leaving it in the Forest, forgotten, but knowing how many lives had been lost, closure to the loved ones who had survived would be the kindest act. Was he being selfish? Keeping the Stone? Understanding the thrall of the Hallows, and knowing the fate of the Second Brother? He swore never to fall to the power of it, thinking instead of how making peace with the dead was how the Stone should be used. So instead, he dropped the Stone in his pocket, praying that it would not fall out. The familiar incarnation of the Killing Curse rang in his ears, and knew no more.
The next time Harry regained consciousness, he slowly opened his eyes, after realising that he could hear naught else but his own breathing. Climbing to his feet, and putting on robes, a voice he wasn't expecting drew his attention:
"What the hell were you thinking, Potter? Is roaring 'Constant Vigilance' not enough to get through to you?" Alastor Moody yelled, approaching a shocked Harry.
"Mad-Eye? But... where am I?" Harry spluttered, not expecting see him again, despite the Resurrection Stone.
"You're on the bridge, not alive but not dead, with either choice being yours," Lily's gentle voice explained, walking up next to Alastor. Harry looked past the two and recognised, with tears in his eyes, the fallen: the Potters, the Prewett twins, the Bones, the Lupins, the Blacks and many more. It was then that he realised that Moody was whole - no prosthetic limbs or missing chunks of his nose - and Remus' scars were gone.
"Why are you here? All of you?" Harry asked, the effect of Déjà Vu present as he once again conversed with the dead.
"You've been given a second chance at life, son," James explained. "Your sacrifice has blessed all those at Hogwarts, much like Lily's sacrifice which blessed you. But you do not have the answers you seek - not all of them."
"What do you mean? I found the Horcruxes, I know where Snape's true loyalties lied, I know that I was a Horcrux, what don't I know?" Harry asked, feeling frustrated, but nervous that he had missed something big.
"Your heritage," Sirius said simply. "Being the last of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Potter, you should have taken up the title of Lord when you were eleven, as per James and Lily's will."
The weight of what Sirius had said finally hit home. "Then... then why was I at the Dursleys?" Harry nearly whispered, aware that something in his life had gone very, very wrong.
"Dumbledore," James growled. "You never were meant to be with Vernon and Petunia. Never! It was a means of controlling you, so that by cutting you off from the Wizarding World until your Hogwarts letter, his 'grandfather figure' act and his stupid twinkling eyes would work perfectly on you. While he was alive, did you ever doubt him for a second?"
"No," Harry answered dejectedly. "Please, tell me what I need to know. Don't leave out anything." The Marauders looked at each other, all nodding.
"Very well. Your parents' will wanted you placed with Sirius; if not, then the Longbottoms, then the Bones'. You were never meant to go to Petunia," Remus began. "You were meant to be raised with all the knowledge of the Wizarding World, but unaware of your fame until your Hogwarts letter.
"Dumbledore fucked up your childhood! Those 'blood wards' may have protected you from Voldemort, but not from the Dursleys. You would have been just as safe with another Ancient and Most Noble Family. He wanted you weakened and easy to manipulate. All of the dangers at Hogwarts were controlled by him to 'train' you," Lupin finished, giving time for Harry to process.
"When I told him about the Philosopher's Stone and Flamel, he mentioned how I had "done it properly", like he expected me to try and find it," Harry realised. "I could've died!" he suddenly roared. "The basilisk, the dementors, the Triwizard fucking Tournament, I could've died!" Harry collapsed, tears streaming down his face as the past six years of trouble at school, the year on the run as well as eleven years of pain and anguish were for nothing. Lily knelt down and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him in for a hug.
"I'm sorry sweetheart, watching over you, being able to do nothing, was more painful than that night. James and I didn't die for you to suffer needlessly," Lily whispered. Pulling him to his feet, Harry saw in his father's eyes that there was more to explain.
"The Hallows, you know of them and you have two," James explained.
"Yes dad, your Cloak and the Stone," Harry confirmed.
"Dumbledore had the Cloak when we died, son. If he didn't take it, we would've survived. Instead, his selfish need for the Hallows ended our lives," James said. "There's more: did Hermione explain the Peverell brothers to you?"
"Yes, Antioch, Cadmus and Ignotus... Ignotus was my ancestor, wasn't he?" Harry asked. "It's how you got the cloak! From father to son!" James beamed at how quickly Harry had realised.
"Exactly, Harry! Exactly! The Cloak is truly yours! And as the last descendant and the future Head of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Peverell..." James began.
"The Halllows are my inheritance by blood," Harry finished, his eyes widening at the power of the Hallows - his Hallows - and their capabilities. James laid his hands on Harry's shoulders, knowing his next question.
"Don't worry about their power corrupting you. They never will. The Elder Wand will never make you overtly arrogant and confident, nor will the Resurrection Stone drive you mad. You are protected from their thrall, the blood of Ignotus Peverell, the youngest but wisest brother, protects you," James soothed. Harry snapped up, looking at his father.
"The Wand... Voldemort has it. With it, he can't be beaten," Harry whispered, all of the confidence slowly building up gone in an instant. James only smiled.
"He holds the Elder Wand, but he doesn't own it. Tell me, who defeated Dumbledore?" James asked.
"Snape," Harry said immediately. James shook his head.
"No, son. Who defeated Dumbledore?" James repeated.
"Draco," Harry whispered, aware that he was on to something. "So the Wand is his?"
"No," James said confidently. "You defeated him at Malfoy Manor, winning a wand from him. The Wand is yours Harry! Voldemort cannot defeat you!" Harry grinned as much as his father.
"I can win this!" Harry announced. "I will win this, so I can live with my friends again, with Ginny!" He was shocked when the grins of his family disappeared.
"What? Did-did I say something wrong?" Harry questioned. James and Lily hesitated.
"Harry, Fabian and Gideon are only here because they were our friends. We never wanted to be connected to Molly, and through her, the Weasleys," James began.
"You know that Arthur was given a love potion by Molly at Hogwarts. She was lucky that he loved her without it. Arthur is a good man, but he is too easily submissive to Molly. She had the gall to approach us with betrothal contracts for you and their first daughter when you were born!" Lily exclaimed. Harry was still confused.
"But we're together now, isn't that a good thing?" Harry asked, the familiar sense of dread returning.
"No, Harry. No. As you know, Ginny grew up as a fan of the Boy-Who-Lived. Even now, she loves her hero, her knight in shining armour. But never Harry Potter. You saving her in the Chamber of Secrets cemented that," James answered. Harry's heart plummeted, as he realised who Ginny really was. She was never a special woman, someone who truly wanted to know him, she was still just another fan girl. He had truly believed that she had grown out of that mind set. It made him sick.
"Why? Some kind of Love potion?" Harry asked.
"Yes, Harry. And more," Lily whispered, tears beginning to fall from her beautiful face. "Sixth year. You were suddenly jealous of Ginny when she would date other boys. You never considered her before. Why now?"
"And why would you suddenly drift away from a woman whose near-death experience at the Department of Mysteries nearly stopped your heart?" James concluded gently. Harry's tears began to fall again.
"A hate potion? To Hermione?" he whispered. Lily was softly crying now.
"Yes Harry, so the Weasleys could have you both," James explained gently, the pain of telling his only son how much of his life had been manipulated clearly tearing him apart. "You, for your wealth and fame, and Hermione, for her beauty and intelligence.
"During your time at Hogwarts, who did Hermione end up spending more time with? Ron. Hogsmeade in your third year, watching the Tri-Wizard Tournament and being hostages in the Second Task during your fourth year, spending more time together at the Burrow and Grimmauld Place and both being prefects in your fifth and sixth year," Remus continued. "Plain and simple separation. Dumbledore manipulated your time spent - or not spent - with Hermione so that the potions would be more effective."
"When Ron abandoned you on the horcrux hunt, Lily and I prayed that he didn't return. The potions were wearing off, and would've been gone completely a few days after finding the Sword. Watching over you, we were just about to celebrate. Your moment at our graves was the most touching scene I've ever felt! Your dance with her brought tears to our eyes! But he came back. And stole her from you," James finished, placing his hand on Harry's heart. Immediately, a beam of periwinkle-blue streamed out from his chest; the realisation of what it meant hitting Harry like a truck.
"The Yule Ball... her dress..." Harry murmured. He never ended up admitting it, but she had never been more beautiful. And she had never lost that beauty.
"Your souls are connected, in more ways than one. She has stood by you for all these years. Never forget that," Lily reminded him. "Without her, you will be lost, misguided by those who wish to do you harm. Losing her to another will be a worse fate than death." Harry was speechless. So much of his life was not his choice. With so much of his foundation naught but lies, he needed the truth to have a chance to ground himself again.
"Which Weasleys can I trust? Despite the potions, they are still kind, and always have been," Harry inquired. James and Lily paused for a moment, looking at each other. With a small nod, they turned back to Harry.
"Arthur has faith in his family, but despises manipulation - quite ironic considering how he is oblivious to the machinations of his wife. Fleur, despite her haughty behaviour during the Tri-Wizard Tournament, has mellowed out; she still owes you for saving her sister, and has spoken highly of you to Bill. They can both be trusted. Charlie too. George has always shown you kindness alongside Fred-" Lily explained.
"And always will, Harry," Fred finished, walking up to Harry. "On behalf of the Weasley family, I apologise, and I beg you to stop mum, Ron and Ginny, by any means," Fred begged, making Harry take a step back, shocked due to never having heard the Twins speak so seriously. Harry nodded and firmly shook Fred's hand. He pulled Fred into a hug, and promised to take care of George. Turning back to his parents, he saw in their eyes, sadness and pain for him, but also determination and love beyond description.
"When we were in the Forest of Dean, Hermione suggested that we should stay there, grow old... knowing what I know now, that's actually a great option," Harry remembered, grinning to himself.
"When you return Harry, you must set things right. Free yourself from the chains of Dumbledore and the Weasleys, free Hermione and kill Voldemort," James explained. "Go to Dumbledore's portrait in the Headmistress's Office; as the Deputy, Minerva will claim the role. Ask her to force his portrait to tell the truth - they are charmed to never lie to the Headmaster or Headmistress." Lily walked up and took Harry's hands in her own.
"We are so proud of you Harry. This has been a blessing to us," she whispered, placing a hand on his cheek; a mother's touch, his mother's touch. As they began to fade away, he once again felt at peace, finally being able to talk, and hug, his loved ones. Perhaps this is what is meant by being Master of Death. Not by being afraid of it, but by understanding that Death takes all, and accepting it. As this world faded to white, he closed his eyes and steeled himself for the fight yet to come.
A/N: First Chapter done! I always wondered what would happen if he kept the Stone. And it's his keeping the Stone that changed who he met in Limbo. The souls of the dead were able to watch Harry's life from a viewer's perspective and could pick up on what went wrong. Yeah, Dumbledore could've been seen as a kindly grandfather figure, but in this AU, he's nothing of the sort. But was he ever in canon?