Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Oregairu

Magic, the power to bend reality to your will and exercise control over the world, something to be used with care and reverence for the betterment of everyone right?

Wrong.

Instead, magic should be used to remove the memories of people around you when you do something embarrassing, like asking a girl out who you thought had feelings for you but was really just being kind. Or for when you answer somebody that you thought was talking to you but in reality they were talking to someone behind you. Truly, the need for magic in those scenarios trumped any moral obligation to help society.

Standing frozen in that suffocatingly narrow hallway, I weighed the pros and cons of apparating right out of the crowd of people that just witnessed my embarrassment. If only Death had been kind enough to grace me with a WAND to go with my shitty magic powers I could have just performed a mass Obliviation on the witnesses with enough control to not cause permanent brain damage.

With no other option I had to resort to the tried and true method... of running away with my tail between my legs.

What a shitty learning experience this second life is turning out to be.

I lost. Voldemort and his party of masquerading menaces had eventually defeated me, boy-wonder himself, while the rest of the wizarding world twiddled their thumbs, causing them to be totally unprepared for war that came for them. Not even my brief resurrection was enough to stop Tom from defeating me and taking me prisoner as he committed muggle-born genocide. All who opposed him were swiftly defeated and assured a slow and painful death.

Dumbledore's half-assed prophecy was completed, and the Boy-who-Lived died at the age of 19 to the big man himself. In all honesty it was a relief to finally go.

What I hadn't accounted for at the time was Death itself.

"So, Harry Potter returns once more. It's… a pleasure to finally meet you, I am Death." A figure dressed in black loomed over me, menacing for sure, but I couldn't bring myself to feel frightened, in fact, I couldn't feel much of anything at all. Where are my arms?

"Where am I? Who are you really? And what's with that tacky getup?" I asked this so-called Death, I tried to move my body but nothing was responding, only my thoughts and voice were available to me.

"I assure you, I am who I say I am, and you Harry Potter, are dead." The figure emphasized this with a wave of his hands, transforming the void around us into the last thing I could remember: being surrounded on all sides by Death Eaters as Tom Riddle took the final shot at me, with a curse of his own design.

If this really was Death, and not some delusion, then once Voldemort finally died he would definitely get a kick out of how similar the mask of Death was to that of his death eaters. After he cried about how unfair it was and how he wasn't allowed to die, of course.

"Okay, 'Death', what do you want from me? Isn't it time for me to move on to my next great adventure?" I asked sardonically, I was tired and wanted nothing more than to be reunited with my friends and family.

"You are not quite ready, Harry Potter. For though you have mastered Death, you have not even begun to master Life."

"What the bloody hell is that supposed to me—" Before I could retort, an immense pain wracked my mind for what felt like an eternity. By the time I was coherent the figure had disappeared and everything was dark once more.

After that I sat in the void of nothingness for an indiscernible amount of time, unable to move, speak, or feel. And so I dreamt of Death, and of the Hallows. As it turns out, because I had at one point held each of the hallows I was the "Master of Death", though I really didn't feel like I was in control of anything at this point.

My fathers old Invisibility Cloak, the Resurrection Stone confined within Gaunt ring, and the wand I had stolen from Malfoy's cold hands. I could feel the Hallows residing in the deepest parts of my subconscious thanks to the meager Occlumency that Snape had drilled into me. They sat behind what I assumed to be heavy protections that I was in no position to break, nor did I have any inclination to try.

The memories of previous Masters were scattered around near the hallows, and from what I had seen so far they held nothing but sadness and regret, so I avoided them religiously. I was sure that if those memories were assimilated into my mind that I would break and may never recover, especially with the loss of all I held dear still fresh in my head.

"Hehehe," A low, grating sound suddenly pierced my mind as I floated, Death was chuckling.

"Something funny?" I asked, equal parts irritated and eager for something to finally do. He paused and seemed to stare straight into my soul for a moment.

"Not yet."

With those ominous parting words I was immediately assaulted with feeling once more. A feeling of being squeezed through a small tube, not unlike apparition.

"Congratulations Hikigaya-san, you are now the mother of a… beautiful baby boy." A doctor hesitantly proclaimed, holding up an eerily quiet baby with the strangest green eyes either of the boy's parents had ever seen, along with a single strand of hair pointing up to the sky. Dr. Yukimura decided that he would have to look the baby up in 20 years, as the baby would definitely be on some sort of yakuza watchlist... someone with those fishy eyes was sure to cause trouble.

The doctor slowly moved the baby over to the mother, and Hikigaya Hisako held the baby in her arms lovingly, gently resting him on her chest, her eyes glossy with unshed tears.

"He's beautiful," she said.

Hikigaya Daichi gave a small chuckle, "Yes he is dear, I know our baby boy is going to do great things." (A certain wand maker sneezed, before giving a slight smile, great and terrible things indeed).

"Have you decided on a name for him?" the doctor asked

""Hachiman""

This had to be some sort of punishment for something I'd done, but for the life of me I couldn't figure out what it was.

After the squeezing sensation was over, I could hear muffled noise coming from the mish mash of colors that was holding me, then movement, before another blur of colors held me, then more noise. Perhaps I was in some sort of Purgatory for not delivering Voldemort to his well deserved end.

Death, could you kindly please stop laughing, my eternal damnation isn't funny damn it!

It was about 2 weeks into my apparent torture when I finally came to terms with what had happened to me. I was once again born into the world, to a married Japanese couple that seemed to be very exited and loved me dearly, it was a novel experience to say the least. I figured Death must fancy himself a prankster and was waiting patiently for him to end this elaborate scheme, bringing me back into the nothingness, but he never came.

My skill with the Japanese language was nonexistent, but I did figure out that my new name was Hikigaya Hachiman. First name Hachiman last name Hikigaya, and what a mouthful that is, I think I'd rather just stick with Harry, thank you very much.

As a baby I was stuck being reliant on my two new parents, which still felt weird for me to say. Imagine that! All it took for me to finally have a family was to die to the snake-human Dark Lord. I could still feel my magic flowing through my veins, pushing my development a little faster than that of a muggle baby, but I had yet to see my parents perform any magic at all, so I was unsure if they were magical.

I spent most of my time practicing the limited wandless magic I knew in the secrecy of my crib, and attempting to speak and move my arms and legs. For a couple of months I sank in and out of consciousness, during that time I endured countless embarrassing and humiliating moments of a grown man breastfeeding in the body of a child.

Before I knew it, I was able to crawl my way around to explore this new territory I now lived in.

The Hikigaya residence was about the size of my 'home' in Surrey, with an upper and lower floor. Thankfully, there was no cupboard under the stairs, and though I doubted my new family would resort to such a thing, I had yet to see their reaction to any accidental magic.

I decided early on that if they weren't magical I would spare my parents the worry of giving birth to a freak, and kept my magic to myself. It would be absolutely devastating if I spent two lives without having any loving family to come back home to.

The first word that my Mother and Father had heard from me in this new life was 'Kaa-chan', which was what my Mother would point to herself and say several times every day. My next word was 'Tou-chan' after my Father utilized a similar tactic.

After that they started to point out numerous different items around the house and said the word in Japanese, hoping for me to repeat it. It was exceedingly difficult for me to dissociate myself from constant English, but it had to be done to grow up normally in this new life.

I quickly came to realize that my parents were rarely in the house together, I figured that they must be working a job that requires frequent travels and that they had to switch off to take care of me. If daycare was anywhere near as expensive in Japan as it was in Britain I could understand their reason for taking off work instead of paying for a stranger to take care of me.

I spent my days enjoying my time with one or both parents, simply basking in the feeling of family, and my nights practicing my speech, a bit of wandless magic, as well as trying to strengthen my little arms and legs. Death seemed to want me here for a reason, and I wasn't too sure if I would have to face off against a Dark Lord again.

At 10 months old I was finally able to take my first few steps... before falling and nailing my head against the ground. My parents were initially frantic, but after they saw no damage they actually seemed relieved that I was able to cry after all, as it was a rare occurrence.

It was hard for me to not worry for my new parents, I had no idea what the situation with Voldemort was, if he was still alive, or anything at all about what was happening in the world around me.

One thing I knew for sure was that no matter what happened I would take care of my family, even if they came to hate me because of what I could do, it would be worth it if they were protected.

AN: This is my first attempt at writing a story. If you've got any advice for me leave a review. Thanks!