Ascension of the Grey Lord

by AltruousAlliterator

After years of fighting, Harry Potter won the Second Blood War. Sadly, the plague that was unleashed by Voldemort killed almost all of the world's magical population. A meeting with Death sees Harry accepting a mission to save another dimension from a similar fate. With some major changes. His family is alive? Neville is the Boy-Who-Lived? Sporadic updates. H/Multi. M for a reason.

1. When One Door Closes

Author's Note:

This is a plot bunny that wouldn't leave me alone until I followed it down the rabbit hole. It literally kept me up at night until I decided to just type it out until I could stop thinking about it. This is not a main focus of mine so updates will be sporadic and will not follow any schedule so don't expect one. It will update when the inspiration hits. That is all.

Pairings is something I haven't decided. I will not be taking any suggestions.

The fic is currently and will stay rated M. Lot of swearing and violence. Probably some gore as well. If it's not your cup of tea, don't read.

I want to set everyone's expectations early on. I won't be reading the reviews on this as this is just something I'm using as writing practice (specifically dialogues and character interactions) for my other fics. If you enjoy it, great. If not, I don't care. I will not be taking any suggestions for this as it will go wherever the hell my mind takes me. There is no overall plot points and this journey will be taken by the seat of my pants.

Disclaimer: Once and for all, I do not own anything to do with Harry Potter. It belongs to the respective owners and I am having fun in the world. The only thing I own is my OCs.

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"There's no escape for you now, Potter! You've been a thorn in my side for too long, boy. I have walked further on the path of immortality than all before me. Death is your only recourse."

A pale figure stood among the ruins of a once proud castle. Malevolent tendrils of darkness slithered around him, cloaking his gaunt body in a pitch-black robe. With an inhumanly shaped head and ruby red irises with slitted pupils, Tom Marvolo Riddle aka Lord Voldemort looked like a monster out of a children's fairytale.

Standing opposite him was a younger man that was the opposite of everything Lord Voldemort was. Dressed like the powerful and imposing war-mages of old, the man was tall, broad shouldered and muscled. At nearly 6 feet 5 inches, his figure dwarfed the Dark Lord he opposed.

His ebony-colored hair was perfectly styled and concealed the underlying bird's nest he had inherited from his father. He was exceptionally handsome with high cheekbones, a strong, defined jawline and an aquiline nose. His eyes were a stunningly vibrant emerald green with a piercing quality.

Lord Henry "Harry" James Potter-Black had a roguish smirk on his face as he stared at the bane of his existence, Tom Riddle, the Dark Lord with severe daddy issues. The bastard that had ruined the lives of so many people and driven the population of Great Britain to near extinction.

They faced each other among the rubble that used to be the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The grand castle that had withstood several assaults from magical and muggle armies throughout history had fallen barely a year after the demise of his mentor Albus Dumbledore. He felt oddly comforted as he was cocooned in the familiar magic that emanated from the blocks of stone, despite the castle being destroyed.

"Come on, Tom. Don't you have any other lines? It's always the same threats of a torturous and gory death. Why don't you spice it up a little bit? Tell me all the filthy and depraved things your Death Eaters are going to do to the innocent women and children. Oh wait, you can't, because they're all dead."

Voldemort's eyes narrowed at the jab. "Don't worry, boy. You'll be joining them shortly."

Harry chuckled. "It's been more than a decade, Tom. You couldn't kill me at 11, and you haven't been able to kill me yet. I'm sure you've noticed that with every duel we've had, I have improved, while your skills remain stagnant. What's wrong? Dark rituals not as effective as they used to be?"

"Avada Kedavra!" The sickly green light of death shot towards Harry, crackling with ferocity.

Out of thin air, a raven materialized in front of the Killing Curse, absorbing it before falling to the ground with its life extinguished and subsequently disappearing.

"Touchy touchy, Tommy boy. Resorting to the Killing Curse against me? Surely your numerous failures against Albus would have taught you better." Harry wagged his finger, as if chastising a naughty child.

"Comparing yourself to your mentor, Harry? You're nothing but a pathetic child compared to Dumbledore's skill and knowledge, and I still killed him!" Voldemort cackled as he riposted.

Harry's only reaction to his jab was a raised eyebrow. "Really, Tom? You think there was any great skill involved in killing a man whose days were already numbered? Albus knew he was dying long before your duel. He simply decided to go out with a bang. Say what you will about him, but the man always had style. You underestimated him, and he got one over you."

Voldemort's response was a feral snarl. He remembered the duel well. The old fool had fought with abandon and they had been evenly matched for nearly an hour before Dumbledore couldn't go on any longer. A Severing Curse had sliced off an arm and leg and the old man had been on his last legs, his blood freely flowing onto the stone floor of the Great Hall.

It was then that he, Lord Voldemort, had made one of the greatest mistakes of his life. Instead of swiftly killing the old man, he had taunted him. In less than a second, Dumbledore caught him off guard and executed a ritual that permanently injured him.

He could never have imagined that the decrepit old wizard had willingly sacrificed an arm and a leg to draw him in. As he had been taunted and ridiculed, the blood leaking from his wounds had surreptitiously formed runes until a complete circle was created around them. Using the last of his magic and life as sacrifice to fuel the ritual, he trapped them both inside the circle and nearly killed him.

It was only due to luck that Lord Voldemort had not perished along with the Leader of the Light, and even after all these years, it galled him. The serene smile on the man's face as he drew his last breath taunted him in his dreams, letting him know just how close to death he had been.

The ritual that Dumbledore had executed was one that had targeted and crippled his body. When he had abducted his archnemesis Harry Potter during the Triwizard Tournament for the resurrection ritual, the result of the ritual had not been a true body, but a homunculus. A shell for a single piece of his tattered soul.

To this day, he still felt the dull ache of the energy that threatened to tear apart the construct he was inhabiting. The pain had initially been almost unbearable, but with perseverance and willpower, he had managed to execute multiple necromantic rituals to counteract the spell's effects. It was a painful lesson in humility, knowing that a dying man had almost destroyed him.

The experience was what caused him to obsess over the older magicks. In his desperate search for a cure, he had discovered ancient knowledge that had been hidden away for millennia. Knowledge that was deemed too dangerous for anyone to know, but could not be destroyed.

The scrolls he had procured spoke of ancient entities that once dwelled among humans. Powerful and near omnipotent beings that could bestow strength and immortality to those who offered the requisite number of sacrifices for it. It was a phenomenon known as a Wish.

After researching and delving into numerous ancient tomes, he learned of how to gather the souls for the offer. Ironically, his predecessor the Dark Lord Grindelwald had tried to follow this same path, using war as the method of securing souls for the requisite sacrifice. Despite the death and destruction the second World War had caused, he still hadn't been able to gather enough souls to get his Wish granted by the time he dueled and lost against Dumbledore.

Nevertheless, he was Lord Voldemort, and he would succeed where Grindelwald failed. Using his Slytherin cunning, he devised a nearly foolproof method of harvesting souls for the offering. Where Grindelwald used war, he would use sickness. It was insidious and wouldn't draw as much attention from the international magical community until it was too late.

With that idea in mind, he had tasked his best Potions Master, Severus Snape, to create a contagion similar to the Black Death, the plague that had ravaged Europe in the past. Snape decided to betray the light and develop the virus to secure his life and future prosperity.

The brainchild of his extensive experimentation was a virus so contagious and deadly that it dwarfed the bubonic plague when it came to fatality. The moment one was exposed to it, they were destined to die. Voldemort had also removed the possibility of a cure by killing Snape, who was the only one knowledgeable enough to cure it.

As the virus started rampaging through Britain, the rest of the world learned of its nature and started panicking. In an effort to save themselves, they isolated Britain and enforced a strict lockdown. Military vessels from several nations lined the shores, discouraging any from sailing or swimming out of the country.

Even the magical population hadn't been spared. Their hubris had been their downfall, as when the virus had presented itself as a strain of the bubonic plague, the magical public had let down its guard. After all, those with magic had been unaffected during that time in history, so this version wouldn't hurt them either. How wrong they had been.

By the time they realized their mistake, most of the population had already been infected. People started dying by the hundreds as they succumbed to the horrific effects of the plague. Voldemort and his Death Eaters had been safe from it due to the cure Snape had developed alongside the virus and it was something they offered to those who swore loyalty to Voldemort and his cause.

"Ah yes, the final, vain attempt of a weak old man to fight against the inevitable. Tell me, how did that work out for the Light side? You lost the only man who could have defeated me, or find a cure to my virus. All those people, Harry. You are the one solely responsible for their deaths. In your misguided fight against me, you have killed far more than I could ever hope to."

Harry's smirk melted as he heard Voldemort. An expression of cold apathy taking its place. This was the one thing he had never truly gotten over. It had torn apart his world view and left him in a horrible place from both a tactical and mental perspective.

Voldemort's offer of a cure was a major turning point in the war, as several Neutral and Light families chose to join the ranks of the Death Eaters in a bid to save themselves. The woman and children were treated horrendously, but the patriarchs of the family could do nothing against their tormentors. To many, their dignity and honor was a small price to pay for their continued survival.

Many members of the Resistance had chosen to bend the knee as well, turning traitor and exposing critical intelligence to save their own skins. When his two best friends had betrayed him to save their lives along with their families, he had felt lost. All hope had been drained and he had contemplated punching his own ticket to the "next great adventure".

Oh, how he had raged at their treachery. It was a sobering moment when he came to the realization that he honestly couldn't blame them. They had families to look out for. Parents, siblings, people who loved them. What was one man and his ideals worth when those they loved were faced with death?

He was just a man with nothing to lose. One who was fighting till his last breath in an attempt to avenge those who died in his defense. The muggles had a saying that Hermione had often quoted to him. "Before you embark on a journey of revenge, dig two graves".

He snorted. 'Two graves my arse.'

The magical civil war had torn apart the entire country and killed more people than any war in both magical and muggle history. So many had died in terror and agony at the bastard's hands, and the day had finally come when they would end it once and for all.

When he had arrived at the ruins of the castle where he had created his most precious memories, he had come with a single goal in mind: Win at all cost.

"Yes. Our war has destroyed us Tom. Whether it was you through your virus and terrorism, or me killing your forces, we have both lost much. The world has suffered enough. It's time we end this."

The air around Harry crackled with power as a halo of magic manifested around his body. The stones around him started vibrating as waves of power rolled off of him.

"After all these years, here we find ourselves once more. Both orphans who found escape and belonging at Hogwarts. It is ironic how similar we are, Harry. If only you hadn't been so eager to oppose me!"

As he shouted, a dark red halo power formed around him as he summoned his strength. An insane grin decorated Lord Voldemort's face as he fired the opening salvo of the final battle that had been prophesied all those years ago.

"Expulso Viscer. Sanguis Conglacior. Crucio. Avada Kedavra!" His first spell-chain was a nasty one. An Entrail-Expelling Curse, a Blood-Freezing Curse, and two of the Unforgivables.

Harry immediately deflected the first two curses before summoning some stone blocks to take the two Unforgivables. The moment the spells obliterated the stone, with a practiced flick, he transfigured the debris into shards of glass and sent them hurtling towards Voldemort.

Voldemort held out his wand as a glowing barrier formed in front of him. The shards of glass all froze as they hit the barrier and with a swish and flick, he transfigured the glass into a burning fireball the size of a small car and sent it back towards Harry.

Instead of shielding, Harry jabbed his wand at the incoming fireball and transfigured it into water. He swept his wand to the right and the ball of water swirled as it surrounded him. The ball of water grew in size and took on a familiar shape. The giant squid that had inhabited the Black Lake.

Numerous tentacles sprouted from the central body and started lashing out at Voldemort from multiple directions. Voldemort dissolved into a black smoke as he escaped strikes aimed towards him. Reforming a small distance away, he cast a spell to counter the large water construct.

"Fiendfyre!" He hissed with rage.

A large gout of fire spewed forth from Voldemort's wand. As he pushed more magic into the spell, the flames took on a much darker color till they were nearly pitch black. A color that was unique to the feared sentient flames that devoured everything in their path, sometimes even the caster.

Animals of all kinds started forming from the conflagration as they charged towards Harry, intent upon his incineration. Harry leapt back as he urged his water construct forward. Albus had partnered with Sirius to teach him all about the Dark spells Voldemort and Death Eaters preferred along with their counters.

With Fiendfyre, the only way to contain it was to drown out the flames with an opposing elemental magic, specifically air or water.

"Aquacaveam!"

The Water Cage spell was an area of effect modification on the popular Water Sphere spell, which trapped a person in a sphere of water that would prevent the casting of any Bubble-Head Charms or Self-Transfiguration spells that would allow a person to breathe. It worked wonders when it came to forcefully containing the animals formed from magical fire that was the signature of Fiendfyre.

The only problem with this method of counter was both the time it took to completely snuff out the flames and also the amount of magic necessary to power the spell. With Voldemort being the caster, the animals were unusually controlled as they charged numerous times to pierce through their watery prison.

Harry could feel the push against his magic, just as Voldemort could feel the resistance from his cage. They struggled briefly, as they tried to overwhelm the other. After almost half a minute engaging in their magical tug of war, Voldemort swiftly abandoned the fight to reposition himself.

Without his control, the fiery animals rampaged around without any coordination, with some devouring the others and growing larger. Harry ended his control over the water cage and decided to take out the flame once and for all. Pumping his magic into the spell, he shouted "Obruo!"

The Drowning Curse took control over the tidal wave of water that formed after he cancelled his water cage and fell like a ton of bricks onto the fiery animals, ruthlessly submerging them. The water, infused with his magic, then suppressed them even further until they were completely extinguished.

The wave of water spread out as the Fiendfyre was extinguished and Harry decided to go on the offense. Taking a knee and touching the surface of the water, he shot a large pulse of magic through it, and the effect was instantaneous. The surface froze rapidly around him, extending all the way towards Voldemort's position.

Harry ran forward and jumped, wandlessly transfiguring his boots into ice skates. He hit the icy surface and glided towards Voldemort with his wand blazing. "Sanguinifer! Os Perfringo! Carnificare! Sectumsempra!" Dark spells flew one after the other towards Voldemort.

Voldemort sneered as he saw the incoming spells. "Absolvo Ancile."

Harry's spells collided with the shield and as they hit, they were all absorbed, making the shield grow brighter and more solid.

Harry's eyes narrowed. With an upwards flick, several pillars of ice shot up across the frozen battlefield. An overpowered wide-area Reducto caused four pillars near him to shatter simultaneously. Like a conductor of a symphony, Harry waved his wand in multiple complicated flourishes.

The shards of ice started taking on different forms as a lot of them were turned into metal spikes and the remaining were transfigured into different animals. Wolves, lions, tigers, hawks and other various predatory species of animals all let out a cacophony of battle cries as they charged towards Voldemort. Harry finished his preparations and with a sharp jab of his wand, sent hundreds of metal spikes flying towards Voldemort.

Voldemort switched from his shield and intercepted several of the spikes by casting an overpowered Deprimo, sending them down towards the stampede that was approaching him. Several of the transfigured animals were skewered as they went back to their original form.

With a grace belying his monstrous appearance, Voldemort glided towards the oncoming herd and started casting wide area Cutters and Exploding Curses, utterly ripping apart Harry's menagerie. As he was incinerating the last few with an Incendio several Cutting Curses sliced right through where he had been.

Harry stood on top of one of the central pillars chanting in Norwegian while twirling his wand towards the sky. "Jeg kaller på Herren Torden. La din vrede slå ned min fiende. Tordenvær! (I call upon the Lord of Thunder. Let your wrath strike down my enemy. Thunderstorm!)"

Dark, foreboding clouds quickly formed above them, crackling and booming with untold power. As he gazed at the sky, Voldemort felt something he hadn't in a very long time. Fear.

Harry Potter had become powerful beyond his estimation. He only had one option to retaliate, so he turned his wand on himself and slashed the veins on his wrist.

Letting his blood spill onto the ground, he coaxed his magic to guide the black ichor that kept him alive into the form of 13 Ancient Sumerian runes to form a circle. He started a chant in Greek, letting his consciousness go and using his magic to instinctively call out to the demonic entity that would grant his Wish.

"Kýrie ton katadikasménon. Sas parakaló na apodechteíte tin tapeiní mou prosforá kai na vgei. (O Lord of the Damned. I beseech you to accept my humble offering and come forth.)"

The moment the words left his lips, the surrounding shadows roiled and grew darker. Harry felt a disturbance and realized that Voldemort was attempting a counterattack. Fueling the spell with even more magic than necessary, he unleashed all the power he had built up into one large, devastating attack in a bid to obliterate Voldemort.

Harry's wand was brought down with a final intense slash, and the entire world stilled for a second. Almost in anticipation of the power that was going to be momentarily unleashed. With a flash that could be seen for thousands of kilometers, a single bolt of lightning that spanned several meters across struck towards Voldemort.

The resulting pressure wave generated from the strike flattened the remaining structures and leveled the Forbidden Forest, uprooting trees that had stood for more than a thousand years, and crushing any wildlife that had found refuge within, to a pulp.

Harry's pillar shattered into thousands of pieces as he quickly cast a Contego shield and Arresto Momentum to slow down his fall. His breath was ragged as he observed the smoking black crater where Voldemort had been. The steam still rising from the ground, he slowly made his way forward to ascertain the fate of his enemy.

With a swish of his wand, a short burstof wind cleared out the smoke. Harry's eyes widened as they saw a sight that chilled him to the bone. Voldemort was floating with his arms outstretched and his head tilted back within a dark red, pulsing runic shield. Droplets of his tar-like blood rose to the top of the shield, forming what looked like a tear in space.

Harry shivered as he gazed into the tear. Several whispers assaulted his ears as struggled to tear his gaze away. The effect was similar to the Veil of Death that had taken his godfather from him. He was being urged to give in and embrace death, promises of joining his loved ones in the afterlife filling his head.

He unconsciously took a step forward, and then another, and another as his body sought to get closer. It was then that a voice in his head brought him up short. 'Harry, the only limit when it comes to magic is your imagination. However, there are certain things that can be done, but should never be done. Always be wary of magic that seeks to control you, as nothing good dwells within the Dark.'

A startled gasp left him as he came out of his trance. His eyes widened as he saw how close he was to the runic circle. Had he taken a couple steps more, he would have crossed the barrier and been at the mercy of whatever foul thing lied beyond that hole in space.

A cold sense of dread that seemed to seep down to his very core shook him as he imagined the consequences. 'Thank Merlin for Albus' wise epithets and Occlumency.'

He had been taught Occlumency during his third year after suffering several bouts of accidental magic upon hearing that the man who betrayed his parents to Voldemort had escaped prison. Nobody had ever bothered to tell him about the man, and the anger he felt had caused his magic to subconsciously flare and start destroying things around him.

After breaking his fourth plate that couldn't be repaired with magic afterward, Albus had taken him aside and informed him that they would have "anger management" sessions to help keep his magic under control. It was only after he had made decent progress with his meditation and visualization exercises that he had been informed of the true goal behind the lessons: securing his mind from external invasion.

Unlike what many had thought, Albus had never fully trusted Snape. His oft repeated statement "I trust Severus with my life" was nothing but a platitude that hid his true thoughts. In his words, when Snape disregarded the potential deaths of James Potter and his son, but begged him to protect Lily, he had witnessed the man's true character. It was something that had made him very wary to trust the dour Potions Master with any truly critical information, like the complete prophecy.

After learning Occlumency directly from Albus, his mental shield had been upgraded from only feeble natural barriers to a solid fortress to protect his mind. After learning for most of the year, he had been given the assignment to continue further studies on his own. Then, Albus had moved on to the subtle art of Legilimency. That had been much harder than learning Occlumency, but after months of constant attempts, he was able to read surface thoughts with little effort.

Albus had warned him to not use it on his fellow students, but he had succumbed to temptation during the Triwizard Tournament in his fourth year. He had been illegally entered into the competition and summarily excommunicated from Gryffindor House for "behavior unbecoming of a member of the noble House of Gryffindor".

During his brief status as a houseless student, he had taken to scanning surface thoughts to get a general idea of how he was perceived by the student body. He had focused on gaining information from all four houses, and had stumbled onto Snape's treachery when he scanned one of the older Slytherin girls.

She had apparently been blackmailed into performing sexual acts when he threatened to expose her affair with a muggleborn from Ravenclaw to her family. The rage he had felt at that discovery had almost made him lose control. Especially after diving a little deeper and seeing that Snape made her Polyjuice into a likeness of his deceased mother before doing the deed.

He had taken the information straight to Albus and while he was thoroughly chastised for violating the privacy of other students, Albus had been horrified by the revelations. He had immediately summoned Mad-Eye to his office and Floo'd the Aurors.

Snape had somehow learned of his impending capture and ran like the coward he was, leaving everything he owned behind without a second thought. Harry hadn't seen him again until he had been portkeyed to the Little Hangleton cemetery for the resurrection ritual. Snape had played a crucial role in preparing the potion ingredients to create Voldemort's new body.

The pained and fearful look on Snape's face after he had interrogated and executed him was something Harry would remember for the rest of his life. An insane grin started forming on his face before it fell short.

'Why the bloody hell am I thinking about that? Why do I feel so happy about torturing Snape?'

Despite how justified it had been, with many Resistance members supporting his actions, he had always felt sick when he reflected on that memory. He had never once been happy about what he had done.

'Until now, that is.' Harry thought as he reinforced his Occlumency barriers and looked towards the tear in space. He was hit with a feeling of something foreign. Something that felt utterly wrong, deep down inside.

Even simply standing in its vicinity was taking a lot of effort. Only after he reinforced his mental barriers did he feel the subtle siren song that was attempting to pervert the sanctity of his mind. It was twisting his thoughts and exerting some sort of influence to make him lose himself to his bloodlust.

It was then that he saw a gigantic eye come into view. The iris was completely red, with a dirty yellow sclera and pitch-black slit pupils. It stared directly at him, and Harry started shaking in pure, unadulterated fear.

Whatever thing that eye belonged to made him feel like his soul had been stripped down and measured. Its unnatural power had ripped through his Occlumency barriers like they didn't exist. Immediately, he broke eye contact and did his best to not look directly at it.

He felt a moisture near his lips and subconsciously touched the area. Bringing it up to his eyes, he saw a dark crimson liquid staining his fingers. That mental attack had been strong enough to cause a nosebleed.

It was at this point that Harry started panicking. Nothing he had ever learned from Albus would help him against that thing Voldemort was summoning. He could feel the very magic around him slowly dying as the monster's presence started affecting their surroundings. It was as if the magic was screaming out in terror before it abruptly disappeared into the void.

He had personally learned how to summon elemental entities from Albus after being exposed to it during his preparation for the first task of the Triwizard Tournament. The magma golem he had summoned to fight the Hungarian Horntail he was pitched against had encouraged him to pursue in-depth studies on Rituals and Elemental Magic, along with Albus' specialties, Transfiguration and Alchemy.

His skills had been used extensively during the war against Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Most times, they had augmented the Resistance forces and saved many lives in the process. However, those were nothing in comparison to what Voldemort was attempting.

Just when he was about to succumb to the hopelessness of his situation, he heard a whisper at the back of his mind. 'Only those with the blood of Peverell will be able to truly unite the Hallows and wield their power.'

It seemed random, but his gut was telling him that he was missing something. Voldemort's ritual was still ongoing, so there was enough time for him to hopefully figure out how to stop him. He brought the fabled Elder Wand up to his eyes and started inspecting it, looking for clues.

Albus had made sure to cede control of it over to him before engaging Voldemort for the final time. All the while, he had insisted that one should not grow dependent on it. Thus, Harry mostly used his original holly and phoenix feather wand, but whenever he faced Voldemort, the Elder Wand was his go-to, so as to avoid the Priori Incantatem effect of their brother wands.

Looking at the heel of the wand he saw something that he originally hadn't noticed. A small groove was cut into the back end, as if something was meant to be slotted into it. Looking at his left hand, he caught a glimpse of the Resurrection Stone embedded on a golden ring. The shape matched perfectly with the groove at the base of the Elder Wand.

Slipping the ring off his finger, he willed his intent to liberate the stone from setting and sent a small pulse of magic into his hand. The gold immediately started tarnishing rapidly until it crumbled into dust. Harry blinked at the sight. He only wanted to remove the prongs holding the stone in place, not destroy the entire ring.

With an amused snort he rolled around the stone in his palm. It looked like a void in space, absorbing all the light coming towards it. The darkness within made him slightly wary about wielding it, but desperate times and all that.

He grasped the stone and carefully inserted it into the groove on the Elder Wand. The moment it was firmly seated, he felt the wand vibrate and hum. Silver and black sparks started showering out of the tip and Harry felt the wand's happiness at that moment.

The experience was very similar to when he was first united with his wand at Ollivander's. The only difference was that the power and resonance he felt with the Elder Wand far surpassed his other wand. It was like he had slipped on a glove that was custom made for him. The Elder Wand meshed perfectly with his magic and he was reveling in the new feeling of closeness and intimacy with his magic at that moment.

Harry frowned. 'Something's still not right.'

The whisper hadn't stopped. He was meant to do something more, but he just couldn't figure out what it was.

'Maybe my invisibility cloak has something to do with it?' Harry thought as he retrieved his family's ancestral cloak from his pocket. He tried to find if there was any method to attach it to the wand, but had no luck. He wore it and tried to cast a spell, but nothing seemed different than usual.

'I'm missing a piece of the puzzle. Come on, Harry. What do you know about the Deathly Hallows?' Harry frantically accessed all his memories about the Hallows and their history.

They were supposedly gifts given by Death to the Peverell brothers for crossing a river, or a gorge, or something wide and dangerous to cross. They used magic to get across, and Death was angry about their survival. Death offered gifts to try and trick them.

The eldest brother Antioch asked for an unbeatable wand. The second brother Cadmus asked for a stone that would allow him to summon the dead. The third brother Ignotus asked for a cloak that could conceal him, even from Death itself.

Antioch bragged about his wand and got himself killed. Cadmus committed suicide to join the woman he loved in Death's realm. Ignotus was the only brother that survived until he was able to have a family. In the end, he took off the cloak and passed it to his son before greeting Death as an old friend.

Albus had mentioned that the great-granddaughter of Ignotus, Iolanthe, had married the son of Linfred of Stinchcolmbe, more commonly known as The Potterer. That couple had officially started the Potter family, the family which he was now the only member. The dowry that Iolanthe brought consisted of the Peverell seat on the Wizard Council, and the fabled Cloak of Invisibility.

It always stunned him how a family with such a long and legendary history could have been whittled down to just him. Still, the fact that he had managed to secure all three Hallows, a feat that had been attempted by several notable figures throughout history and never accomplished was something he was proud of.

Deep down he had always felt that they were his belongings. Tom had given up any right to the stone after using it as a Horcrux, and Antioch's wand should have been passed down to the only remaining Peverell anyway.

It was then that Albus' parting words came to him again. Only those with the blood of Peverell will be able to truly unite the Hallows and wield their power.

'Only those with the blood of Peverell… Blood. It needs my blood!' Harry gasped as he realized the true meaning of the words. Uniting the Resurrection Stone and the Elder Wand was only half the puzzle, he needed to unite the Hallows using his blood.

Quickly placing the cloak on the ground in front of him, he laid the wand on top of it and withdrew his original holly wand. Casting a quick Diffindo on his palm, he made sure to allow the blood to drip down onto the wand, stone and cloak. The effect was almost immediate.

The wand hummed loudly and the stone took on a sinister red gleam, and the cloak started rustling as the blood slowly spread from the center across its surface. Harry's eyes widened as he saw the reaction. 'It worked! Hell yeah!'

That was his last thought before overwhelming pain overtook his senses. It felt like his body was on fire as he continued bleeding onto the artifacts. His eyes rolled to the back of his head and he knew no more.

Harry's eyes shot open and he gasped from the pain. It took him a moment to realize that his surroundings were different, and the pain had completely disappeared. He was now wearing a thin white tee shirt and pants made of some really soft material.

Looking around, he noticed that he seemed to be in King's Cross Station, except everything was white, and he was all alone.

"Hello Harry." A jovial voice came from behind him.

In an instant he turned around and flicked his wrist to curse whoever was stupid enough to sneak up on him. He was stunned when nothing happened, and doubly so when he saw who exactly had called out to him.

Standing in front of him, blue eyes twinkling in delight with barely hidden mischievousness, was his Master and surrogate grandfather, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. Dressed in all white with an immaculately groomed beard that went to his waist along with his trademark half-moon glasses, he looked like he hadn't aged a day from the last time Harry saw him.

"I must say, it took you far longer than I expected to realize the true meaning behind my words and make your journey here."

Harry blinked. He opened his mouth to respond, but then closed it. He blinked again, trying to understand what exactly it was he was seeing.

'Is this some sort of illusion Voldemort is showing me?' Harry's eyes flickered around, trying to search for any clues that would indicate the use of illusion magic.

"I assure you my dear boy, this is no illusion. Though I commend you for keeping constant vigilance. Alastor would be proud of how far you've come. Rest assured, you are here because you fulfilled the conditions to access this place."

Harry remained skeptical, but engaged the specter of Dumbledore. "Okay. Let's say I believe you for now. Where exactly is 'this place'?" he asked as his hand swept around.

With a genial smile, Albus gestured towards a bench and started walking towards it. Harry decided to follow his lead, but made sure to keep at least 3 steps behind him. Once they were both sitting, he started speaking.

"This is a rather unique place, or to be precise a unique plane of existence. It is the realm in between life and death, or Limbo, as I like to call it."

Harry absorbed the knowledge and it hit him. 'I'm dead? Or dying? Is that why I'm here?'

The questions fired off one after another as panic started to set it. He must have been quite obvious with his facial expressions as Albus managed to read him like a book and start answering all his questions one by one.

"You are far from dead, Harry. Neither are you dying as of this moment. You are here because the Hallows brought you here. Or more accurately, you used the Hallows to make the journey here. What happens next however, will be left solely up to you.

Fate guided you to discover and unite the Deathly Hallows. The Hallows guided you to claim them as your own. Now that you are here, a choice must be made. I am here on behalf of the… person that is offering the deal. They thought that you would be more receptive to a friendly face."

Harry squirmed under Albus' gaze. It had been so long since he had been in the presence of the man. He had nearly forgotten how even after all the trials and tribulations he had faced during the war, Albus could still make him feel like a school child that had just gotten caught doing something he wasn't supposed to.

He felt a hand on his shoulder. He snapped out of his thoughts and looked at Albus. "Harry. I have observed the entire war up until the moment you conducted the blood ritual on the Hallows. After all that I have seen you endure, I can't express in words how proud I am to have been your Master.

You are one of the finest young men I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. Your potential for good, despite the many obstacles you faced, inspired me to be a much better man than I was. The compassion and understanding for those that betrayed you, while it tore my heart to watch, it comforted me that I had made the right decision when I chose you as my successor.

After you came up from that Merlin damned chamber holding the Sword of Gryffindor, I knew right then and there, that you would be the perfect replacement for me. You have proved me right so far, and have sacrificed so much to end the threat of the Dark Lord Voldemort, Harry.

Tom was my mistake, and something that I had a duty to clean up. Sadly, I was too soft-hearted in my approach as I had long since tired of war and death after fighting against Gellert and his Acolytes. You were a far better leader to the Order than I ever was, my dear boy. It was your strength and charisma that inspired others to fight against Tom and his cadre. Even when in the face of despair and overwhelming odds."

Harry looked down with a pained expression. "It was also my foolhardiness and inexperience that led them to their deaths, Albus. How could I ever forgive myself for all the people I let die. All the orphans I created?"

The hand on his shoulder tightened. "Harry, look at me."

He refused, still wallowing in the shame he felt.

Albus' tone went from gentle to stern. "Look. At. Me."

Harry lifted his head and saw the icy blue orbs that he had come to associate with his mentor, except now they were filled with deep pain.

"They chose to sacrifice themselves so that others could live free from Tom's tyranny. All those orphans had parents who loved them deeply, and wanted them to live in a better world. Blaming yourself for their deaths is not something that should be done."

"That all sounds good Albus, but how can I not be haunted by their faces, knowing that I sent them to their deaths? I haven't had a proper night's sleep in the last 2 years. I was severely tempted to take Dreamless Sleep on many occasions, but I figured that it was my burden to bear."

Albus sighed deeply. "It is a common burden for leaders. My repetition of the saying 'We must all face the choice between what is right and what is easy' was more a reminder for myself than anyone else. When you get as old as I was, the lines between the two become more blurred with the passing of time.

At that point, a single decision can mean the difference between being a hero or a villain. That choice came for me when I allowed you to stay at Hogwarts after your second year. I could have easily made you go back to your relatives, and would have been able to justify my actions. It was seeing the desperation on your face, the desire to be free of them, that made me pause.

I left you at that house knowing that you would not be welcomed. I had no idea that their treatment of you would be so abominable, but my goal of keeping you safe was something I accomplished. Or so I had thought. I questioned myself constantly after I first laid eyes on you when you walked into the Great Hall to be Sorted."

Albus looked away as his eyes gained a misty, far off look. "The trepidation and fear in your every step, how you shied away from physical contact. Did you know I actually drank myself into a stupor for the first time in 2 decades after the feast? I wept harder that night than I did at the end of the first Blood War. I regretted everything, and yet, I forced you to go back at the end of the year.

Preserving the integrity of the blood wards that protected you became an obsession of mine. I justified my choice by thinking that even if they did not treat you as well as I hoped, at the very least, your safety would be ensured.

Thinking back, I was deluding myself, desperately trying to not confront my obvious failings. It pained me deeply that you never experienced the childhood I wanted you to enjoy. The one you so richly deserved."

Harry stayed silent throughout Albus' monologue. They had never had such a heart to heart before. The regret in his voice surprised him. Despite being Albus' apprentice, he had always held a bit of a grudge for an abusive childhood and growing up in a cupboard.

Due to their preparations to fight against Voldemort being more important, they never wasted any time during their sessions. All of it was focused on improving his skills and knowledge. They were conducted with the singular goal of molding him into a wizard strong enough to fight against their enemy on equal footing and a leader able to bear the burden of a general.

His youth and inexperience were tempered by the brutal dueling sessions he had with Moody, Sirius, Remus, and Kingsley. All of them had been veterans of the first Blood War, and hadn't pulled any punches during training. He had become better at a much faster rate than any of them expected, and yet, nothing could have ever truly prepared him for what he went through.

It felt weird that they were finally having this long overdue conversation in Limbo. Hearing Albus' confession and numerous regrets in regards to him lifted an invisible weight he had never noticed. All the resentment and anger he had bottled up and tossed to the deepest recesses of his mind had vanished.

Seeing his mentor looking so pained, his voice wavering as he shared a vulnerable side of him practically no one had ever seen before, made him forget all his problems momentarily. His childhood, or lack thereof, was just another part of him. It did not define him, and he most certainly didn't solely blame Albus for it.

Placing a consoling hand on Albus' shoulder, he replied. "It took me a long time to come to terms with what I experienced. To be honest, I did blame you when I heard that you were the one to place me with the Dursleys. While they never got too physical, it still hurt me as a child growing up in a house where I was treated like dirt.

However, you redeemed yourself in my eyes when you allowed me to stay over the summer after the Chamber of Secrets fiasco. Children who suffer abuse learn to be very observant, Albus. It took time for me to understand your motivations, and though growing up with the Dursleys was hard, it taught me how to deal with adversity.

Your actions in freeing Sirius upon discovering his innocence was something that made a world of difference to an orphan like me. You gave me a family. A place to call home.

No matter how much I hated you for placing me with my aunt and uncle, your efforts to rectify your mistakes did not go unnoticed by me. This is something I should have done long before you faced Voldemort for the last time Albus."

He leaned forward and embraced his mentor. "I forgive you for everything. Thank you for all you did to help make things right."

He felt Albus still before leaning into the embrace, his shoulders shaking lightly as tears dampened his collar.

Breaking their hug, Albus took off his glasses as he wiped his eyes. "Thank you, Harry. You have no idea how much your forgiveness means to me. I made a lot of mistakes when it came to you my dear boy, but know this. Out of all the things I ever accomplished throughout my many years, you are, and always will be, my greatest legacy."

Harry was touched by his statement, but was brought out of his thoughts by a shadowy figure at the periphery. Turning to face it, he saw a sight that made his mouth go dry.

The most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on stood in front of him. She wore a black dress with a plunging neckline that showed off her bountiful assets while hugging her voluptuous curves. One her neck, she wore a pendant of a scythe and as he looked into her amethyst-colored eyes, he became lost within them.

He didn't know how long he had stared at her until the silence was broken by a light giggle. Blinking to regain control, Harry realized that his jaw had literally dropped and he had been staring at her, drooling like an idiot for Merlin knew how long.

A fierce blush crept up his neck and shone brightly on his cheeks. He had never acted like such even under the influence of Veela. What was it about this woman that made him do something like that?

"Welcome to my realm, Henry James Potter. I trust Albus has informed you about where we are and why you are here?"

Harry cleared his throat and avoided looking up as he answered. "Yes Ma'am. He informed me that this place is somewhere between life and death, and that I have a choice to make."

He could hear the amusement in the lady's tone when she replied. "That is an accurate description. Have you been informed on what exactly the choices are?"

Harry shook his head. "No Ma'am. Not yet."

She looked at Albus chidingly. "Albus. I entrusted you to meet with young Henry and tell him about the choice he has to make. Why has he yet to be told?"

From the corner of his eye, Harry saw Albus get up from the bench and bow deeply towards the lady in black. "I sincerely apologize, My Lady. We were having a conversation that should have been had when I was still alive. It distracted me from informing Harry about the choice he has to make."

'My Lady? What the hell is he talking about?' Harry thought.

'This is the realm in between life and death. The lady has to be someone really important by how Albus is acting. My Lady seems like quite a title, especially in this place. Wait a minute…' His eyes widened as he realized who exactly he was conversing with.

Looking up, he saw a teasing smile on the lady's face. "It seems that young Henry has finally figured out who I am."

Harry stood and bowed deeply. "Greetings, Lady Death. I sincerely apologize for my previous disrespect and beg for your forgiveness."

The lady in black he now knew as Death chuckled. "There is no need for apologies, young Henry. I am glad that you are finally here. Plus, it is always nice to be complimented by a handsome man such as yourself."

Harry's blush deepened.

"However, that is not why I am here. Albus has not told you of the decision you must make, so I will do so now. As we speak, the Demonic God Abaddon has been summoned to fulfill the Wish of Tom Riddle. The virus that led to the deaths of tens of millions of people was for the specific purpose of gathering the requisite number of souls as a sacrificial offering."

Harry's mind was blown by that statement. Demonic God Abaddon? The virus was to kill enough for a ritualistic sacrifice? The Resistance had always believed the virus was Voldemort trying to thin out the population of magicals that would fight against him. The fact that it also affected muggles was a mere afterthought. Voldemort hated them with a passion as well, so their deaths were probably just a bonus.

Death had put the entire war into a different perspective. One that spoke of Voldemort playing a very long, drawn out game with the granting of some Wish being the endgame. No doubt it would be immortality he would ask for, as that had been his obsession for the longest time.

If his Wish was fulfilled by Abaddon, there was no way he could stop him from taking over Britain, and subsequently, the rest of the world. That was a nightmarish scenario he didn't want to think about.

As if a flip had been switched, he let go of all other thoughts and focused intently on the end goal. "Lady Death. What can I do to stop him? I'm ready to pay any price."

Death raised a single eyebrow at his declaration. "Anything, young Henry? Be very careful when making such statements in the presence of the divine. There are far worse things than myself."

Harry spoke with confidence. "I'm certain you won't do anything bad to me on purpose. Otherwise, there was no reason for you to give me the inspiration to come here through your Hallows. You need me to do something, and it has to do with Tom and Abaddon."

Death's purple eyes glinted as she elegantly glided over to him. "Oh? You put that much trust in me, Henry? Do you truly believe that I have your best interests in mind?"

Harry gulped lightly. Even though she was the picture of feminine perfection, it was still intimidating as hell to stand in her presence. He gathered his nerves before carefully replying.

"I don't honestly believe I'm all that important in the larger picture. Then again, I doubt most people are lucky enough to be able to make any decisions of importance within your realm."

Her eyes pierced into his and he felt her presence in his mind. He gave up all semblance of resistance and let down his barriers willingly for the first time in more than a decade. Like Abaddon, she would have no problem tearing right through them, but he had a feeling that she wouldn't harm him.

A bright laughter lit up the surroundings. "My oh my. You are a very interesting mortal, young Henry. Though there is something I must correct you on. You are quite important. After all, there are very few mortals whose lives are worthy of my sister's attention.

Have you ever heard of the multiverse theory? I'm sure your former friend Ms. Granger spoke about it once or twice, no doubt after my sister influenced her to raise the topic."

Harry looked through his memories and after a few seconds, he was able to find the conversation where Hermione mentioned it. "She was talking from a perspective of time travel, back when we researched maybe sending our souls back in time to stop Voldemort early on."

Death nodded. "She was only partially correct. Time is but one of myriad factors that determine the creation of a certain world. In fact, there are billions of different worlds where alternate identities of you exist.

There are worlds where you are born a girl, one where your parents never died to Tom Riddle, even one where you became a Dark Lord yourself. There are also worlds where my other sister Magic doesn't exist the same way as she does in yours. Where the rules that govern her are radically different than what you're used to.

The thing I need you to understand, is that as cosmic entities, we do our best to preserve worlds, not destroy them. Even though we have billions of different ones under us, we still care about them all. There are some worlds where Tom Riddle wins, but we always make sure to end him another way as recompense for the destruction he causes. In fact, there have been several instances where we have indirectly interfered to save them from certain doom.

My problem is that one of the most important worlds, what I like to refer to as a linchpin world, is in deep trouble. My sister, in her infinite wisdom, has designated Neville Longbottom as the Boy-Who-Lived in that world. While this is not exactly a bad thing per se, I would be remiss if I didn't mention that whenever you were chosen as the Boy-Who-Lived, you triumphed against Tom Riddle far more often than he did.

Neville Longbottom is a curious case. With him already being part of the magical world, born to a well-known Pureblood family, he is never truly alone throughout his childhood. If his parents sacrificed themselves, his grandmother's overbearing attitude tends to stifle his growth as a young man.

You witnessed this first hand. He eventually becomes a well-adjusted, strong, and confident man, but Augusta Longbottom's influence hampers him far more than it ever helps.

On the other hand, if his grandmother sacrifices herself and his parents survive, they tend to also stifle him, but in a more protective manner. They shield him from any outside harm or danger, oftentimes strictly guiding him down their desired path of development. When they are taken away from him, he is helpless, not being able to independently function.

In those worlds where his parents live, he tends to grow overly arrogant and conceited but my sister fixes that sometime in the middle of his Hogwarts career. Usually by scaring him straight. Right before he has to confront a newly resurrected Tom Riddle."

Harry felt an odd sense of pride at learning how successful he was in fighting and winning against Voldemort in other worlds. Nevertheless, he cleared his throat to politely requested some clarification. "While this is all fascinating to hear, how exactly does this pertain to me?"

"This involves you, because I need you to go and help Neville in another world. In the linchpin world I described, he is destined to lose. The problem with his loss in that particular world is the potentially cataclysmic effect it will have on several thousands of others.

I won't give you the specifics, but let's say that Tom Riddle uncovers an ancient artifact that he could use to gain an unprecedented amount of power. This would be very bad, not only for us, but the cascading effect could destroy far more than just a single world. As we are restricted by the laws governing the multiverse to never directly interfere, you will be interceding in the conflict on our behalf."

Harry's temper flared slightly. Disregarding the stupidity of going against Death herself, his tone was venomous as he replied. "I will not be your enslaved puppet in another world. I've sacrificed far too much in this one and all I want to do is pass on and meet my parents and all those I love. I've had enough of Fate and her prophecies. My life is my own, and I refuse to fight that monster again."

For a short second, he thought he was going to suffer Death's displeasure, and he braced himself for punishment. Instead, Death merely nodded. "That is one of your choices, Henry. Far be it from me to take away that opportunity from one who has given so much in the protection of others. However, I believe that there is an opportunity I can present you, seeing as this realm is under my control. Why don't you confer with a few others before making your decision?"

He saw four figures materialize behind her, and felt his heart stop as he saw the newcomers' faces.

"Mum? Dad?" he choked out as he saw the faces that haunted his dreams as a young boy. The same ones that had greeted him in the Mirror of Erised during his first year at Hogwarts.

His mother gave a tearful smile. "My baby" she cried out as she ran towards him. Death smiled and stepped to the side.

He ran into his mother's embrace and felt emotionally overwhelmed at finally being able to hold her. She felt warm to his touch. Her breath tickled his neck and he felt her hot tears dampening his shirt collar. His father came to their side and wrapped them both in a hug.

It was a dream come true for Harry, finally being able to see the parents everyone had remarked on. Looking at his father, he could see exactly why everyone told him that he was a carbon copy of the man. As his mother looked up at him, he saw the stunning eyes that he had inherited from her.

His father spoke first. "It's nice to finally meet you, son. Your mother and I have looked forward to this moment for such a long time. We didn't anticipate meeting under such circumstances, but we certainly aren't complaining.

His mother chuckled lightly. "Let mummy look at you darling." She said as her hands cupped his face. Lowering himself, he saw his parents look at his face, seemingly lost in their memories.

"I can't believe that my baby grew up to be such a wonderful man. We always watched over you. From the moment we arrived we kept track of your life. I was so angry when I saw your upbringing at my sister's house. There were so many times I cried out helplessly, wanting to save you from the torment of those beasts in human skin."

His father nodded. "I never wanted to hurt someone more than I did your aunt and uncle, Harry. Their treatment of you was the worst I could have imagined. Your mother and I celebrated the day Albus finally realized his mistake and took you away from them.

When Sirius was finally freed from Azkaban and adopted you, we were both overjoyed. You finally got the family that we wanted you to have. Then the war against Voldemort started, and suddenly, everything was never the same. Sirius, Remus, Kingsley, Moody, Albus… all of your mentors died one by one. It was difficult watching you suffer all those losses and keep on fighting.

I felt so proud watching you become the man I knew you were meant to be. A charismatic and great leader, a loyal friend, a man who did not bow to evil and fought for what was right. You gave me a gift that few fathers ever receive. You became a far better man than I ever was."

Harry interrupted him. "That's not true, Dad. Don't sell yourself short. You just never had the chance to become all you were meant to be."

His father laughed warmly, the sound echoing throughout the station. "I appreciate what you think so highly of me, son. I know what kind of man I was, and trust me when I say I would have made far more mistakes than you would think. Lily and I were both only 19 when you came into our lives. I was so worried, as I wanted to be a better father to you than mine had been to me.

While your grandfather loved me dearly, both he and your grandmother didn't take any measures to curb my arrogance. When I met your mother on my first ride on the Hogwarts Express, I was an insufferable prat. It took 6 years and the loss of my parents for me to grow up, and I wanted to do right by you. Sadly, I wasn't able to be there for you when you needed me most."

His mother put a comforting hand on his father's shoulder. "Your father is correct when he said he was insufferable when we first met. However, he fails to mention that I would have been there to help correct any such behavior early on. After all, he could never say no to his Lily-flower."

His father looked thoughtful. "Your mother raises a good point, Harry. Perhaps I wouldn't have been as bad as I thought. Still, it hurts that you were never properly trained in the ways of the Marauders. It was something all of us were looking forward to." He laughed at the face his mother was making.

"Speaking of Marauders…" She turned to the two figures standing away from the group. At her nod, they started making their way over and he gasped as he saw the faces of his godfather Sirius Black, along with Remus Lupin.

"Hello Harry. It's been a while. How's the weather up there?" Sirius grinned.

Harry snorted. "Really, Sirius? Do you know how many times I've gotten that question?"

Sirius barked in laughter. "To be fair, I didn't get the opportunity to tease you with that. You only shot up a couple years after what would have been your final year at Hogwarts. It seems like you've taken after your grandfather Charlus, more than your father.

You always were on the shorter side, and I knew you would eventually shoot up, as that's what happened to your father. I didn't expect it would be this much though."

He embraced Sirius. "It's been so long, Sirius. I never got to say goodbye."

He choked slightly as he held back tears. Sirius had died on a hostage rescue mission for the Order. His sacrifice had saved the lives of several muggleborns who had been shipped off to concentration camps under Voldemort's Ministry. Learning of his death had been a devastating blow to him early on in the war.

Sirius comfortingly stroked his back. "There, there. I made my choice, Harry. It is simply the price of war. I felt happy that my death held some meaning.

As I seem to recall, those muggleborns went on to become your most loyal and bravest fighters. They fought with you to the end, and sacrificed themselves so others could live free in a Voldie-free world."

Harry nodded as he broke the hug. "Still, it hurt a lot."

"I'm sure it did, Harry. It hurt me too. Once I was here and was able to finally meet your parents, I broke down. I kept on apologizing for being a hotheaded idiot and leaving you with Hagrid that dreadful night.

For being incarcerated in Azkaban while you suffered under the Dursleys. While they have forgiven me for it, I still haven't been able to forgive myself. As your godfather, I failed in my duty to both you and your parents.

Still, seeing you grow into the great wizard you became was a treat. Knowing that I had helped influence and prepare you for the war also gave me some comfort. Especially when the going got tough for you and the Resistance."

Remus interjected. "Sirius is far from the only one with regrets, Harry. I too had some responsibility as your honorary uncle to check in and look out for you. The fact that you didn't even know who I was until your third year was a regret, I took with me to my grave. It shouldn't have happened, and I also felt terrible when I met your parents."

He briefly hugged the man before replying. "While you could have been, it's fine that you weren't. What counts is that you were there for me when I needed you the most. Your Patronus lessons saved both mine and Sirius' lives. It also gave me another connection to my parents. For that, I was always grateful.

They all reminisced and had a tearful reunion as he attempted to learn more about his parents directly from them. It was fun hearing all of their stories, and it filled a hole that had always been there due to never having known them growing up.

He didn't know how much time had passed when he heard someone clearing their throat. Turning around, he saw Death smiling warmly at him. "This is all quite wonderful, and I have no doubt that young Henry is overjoyed to meet you all, we must get to the crux of this meeting."

Harry nodded, slightly regretfully. He didn't want this to end. He wanted to stay here and enjoy a well-earned break from all the war and death.

"While I also feel that you have earned your place here in the afterlife young Henry, I need your help. That world is critical to the survival of tens of thousands of other ones. You are mine and my sister's only hope to help stop the Tom Riddle of that world."

Harry was about to immediately reply in the negative, but a hand stopped him. His mother was looking at him pleadingly. "Please, darling. I know that you have suffered throughout your life, and I feel like the worst mother in the world for asking this of you. But all those worlds, with all those people. Can you really let them suffer while standing by?"

Harry gulped. He didn't know how to feel. Part of him wanted to yell at his mother and tell her to stuff it. That he had enough of it all and only wanted to enjoy Death's hospitality now that his world was doomed.

The other part wanted to go and help. It was a personality trait that defined him. He felt a sense of obligation towards being the protector of those who couldn't protect themselves. He couldn't stand by and watch while injustice and torment were inflicted upon the innocent.

His father also spoke up. "Harry, I just want you to know that your mother and I completely support your decision, whatever it is. I would love to be able to see you every day and for us to be a family again. You will always be our son, and no one will think any less of you for rejecting Lady Death's request and choosing to stay here with us."

Sirius and Remus both nodded in the background, affirming his father's words.

He stared into the distance, not knowing what to do. It was a tough decision, leaving behind something he had wished for. Still, if Death herself was asking him for help in that other world, the fallout of Voldemort's victory must be very bad. That it would potentially lead to the destruction of tens of thousands of other worlds was something he couldn't fathom.

He focused on his parents and saw the supportive looks they were giving him. He could feel that they were genuine when they said no one would judge him for his choice. Taking a deep breath, he exhaled slowly, calming himself before he would make a monumental choice.

'Merlin damn my hero complex and sense of honor.' With a sigh, he hugged his parents tightly.

"You have no idea how badly I want to just stay with you both. Even though we just met, I feel like I've known you both for my whole life. I love you, Mum and Dad."

They hugged it out and he turned to Sirius and Remus. "Don't think I forgot about you, you old dogs. Come here."

They both joined the group hug and he closed his eyes, searing this memory into his mind. The greatest and happiest memory he would ever have.

Releasing them, he looked at Death and saw her smiling brightly. "I see you've made your choice, young Henry."

Harry nodded. "I'm willing to help you, but I have a few questions before you send me."

"Ask away, and I'll answer if I'm allowed."

"Fair enough. What's going to happen to this world? Now that Tom is in the process of summoning Abaddon."

Death smirked. "Ah yes. You will have to defeat him first before your journey to your 'next great adventure'."

Harry gaped at her. "How in Merlin's name do you expect me to defeat that abomination he's gone and summoned?! You called him a Demonic God! I'm just one wizard! There's no way I can do anything against it."

Death giggled. "Do not worry, Henry. You will be provided with some support, but it must come with a sacrifice."

Her tone became foreboding. "Forget defeat. While you are the strongest wizard alive in your world, you are but an insignificant insect to a being like Abaddon. Therefore, a sacrificial ritual similar to the one your mother used to protect you is your only option."

Harry sputtered. "You want me to die?!"

Death nodded. "You must. It is the only way I can move your soul to the other world without breaking any natural laws and ensure that I am not directly interfering in the world."

Harry's shoulders slumped. "Wow. It's a little tough for me to hear that. Don't get me wrong, I am willing to sacrifice my life, but I at least thought spending eternity with all the people I lost in the war would be my reward. Not being sent to a completely different world where I'm expected to fight Tom all over again."

Death approached him silently. With a finger, she caressed his cheek and made him face her. "I would never ask such a thing if it was not absolutely necessary, Henry. Unfortunately, this is the only way I can keep my actions from violating the laws that bind me. Know that if there was any other way, I would gladly allow you that option."

Harry closed his eyes, making peace with his circumstances before opening them. Steely determination glinted within the bright green orbs that met the fiery purple ones of Death. "I'm ready. Let's get this show on the road."

Death nodded and placed her hands on his temples. "The knowledge of the ritual is something that only I know, as you will be invoking my presence to push back against Abaddon's. The sacrifice involved is your soul, which will then come back here to Limbo before I send you off to your destination."

"Will this ritual affect my magic at all? I don't want to lose everything I worked hard for." Harry pleaded with her.

Death shook her head. "That is part of the sacrifice, Henry. It is not something that can be circumvented, unless you want the ritual to fail. Don't worry, your magic will be very similar in the next world. You can regain all that you lost if you work hard."

Harry sighed. "Damn it. It's looking like I'll have to start from zero… again."

Albus interjected in their conversation. "One moment, Lady Death. I implore you to hear my suggestion."

Death seemed to be expecting his intervention, so she looked at him and nodded.

Albus walked up and said "Could we please have some privacy for this conversation?"

Death waved her hand, and suddenly, Harry couldn't hear anything anymore. He only saw a blur where Albus' lips were. Glancing at his parents and uncles, he saw their confused expressions, meaning he wasn't alone.

He didn't know how much time had passed, but Albus' hand waving had become erratic and his body language seemed like he was desperate to get his request approved. This persisted for some time until he said something and Death finally looked like she agreed.

Suddenly, he could hear and see everything clearly again. Albus had a solemn look on his face and Death seemed resigned. Albus approached him. "My dear boy, I want to give you some advice for your journey. I ask that you not approach me until you are capable of fully defending yourself from my machinations.

The temptations of power and influence slowly corrupted me after decades of dealing with politicians and making backroom deals to gather support for my agenda. I do not know if my alternate self will have learned from his mistakes by the time you meet him.

Seeing as it is a different world, I cannot tell if my history will be the same all the way to when you were born. Lady Death could only inform me of the basics, but there are a few things that I found to be the same as ours. Show him this if you want to convince him about your origin. It is something irrefutable and known only to myself. I doubt he would have told anyone willingly either."

Albus placed his finger on his temple and withdrew a silvery strand. He twirled his finger and formed it into a shining ball of light. He reached out and touched Harry's forehead. The ball of light dissolved into Harry's head and his brain was assaulted by a string of memories.

Several scenes flashed through his mind. A young girl struck down by a Killing Curses. A woman in a bridal veil looking up at him in love and happiness. Albus holding the body of that same woman among a pile of bodies, screaming in rage and heartache as tears flowed down his cheeks.

Albus fighting like a madman on the streets of Berlin, butchering hundreds of wizards as he cut a path towards Grindelwald. The famous duel that forever cemented his legacy as the defeater of one of the deadliest Dark Lords in history.

His former friend and honorary brother Gellert Grindelwald begging for death, but him unable to do it. Grindelwald's look of despair as he shut the door of the cell that would imprison him for the rest of his life.

The final picture was Albus standing in front of a pristine marble gravestone with a beautiful statue of the woman depicted as an angel. He sobbed and fell to his knees. Darkness overtook him as the memory ended.

Harry was shell-shocked by the revelations. "Albus… You were married?" he whispered disbelievingly.

Albus nodded. "Yes. It was for a brief period of my life, but I had never been happier. Not until you came along and helped guide me out of the dark labyrinth I had lost myself in. My darling Katerina…" His eyes became misty. "She completed me in a way I never thought possible. She was a guiding light for me during dark times, much like yourself."

Harry didn't know what to say, as he discovered something that completely changed the way he viewed his mentor. He had to admit Skeeter's book had colored some of his opinions. With salacious comments from interviews with Bathilda Bagshot and other associates, she had painted the picture of a man that had been Gellert Grindelwald's lover, a sexual deviant, and a weak man who couldn't face the Dark Lord he had helped create.

He remembered how incensed he had been when he read the first chapter of that dumpster fire of a book. It hadn't survived his magic's wrath after he saw the sheeple lapping up the lies she had spun. Degrading and dishonoring the man's legacy was something he felt wasn't right, but some of it had laid the seeds of doubt in his mind.

His Master was a highly private individual. Most of their time together was spent delving into the intricacies of magic and him being educated in fields that would be useful when it came time to fight against Voldemort and his forces openly. They had never had many private conversations, including the one they had earlier on the bench that should have happened while the man was alive.

The memories were a kick in the teeth. What the public would have thought if the cold hard truth slapped them in the face like it had him. Albus Dumbledore having been married and the way he had cut through the wizards and witches in Grindelwald's ranks would have been a testament to the kind of man he was. A scholar and a warrior, who loved his wife with all his heart, and was willing to get his hands dirty to avenge her.

A feeling of profound shame and guilt washed over him as he looked at the face of his Master, the man who had helped him become the powerful wizard he was. Shame that he had let such lies corrupt his legacy and image after his sacrifice. For not fighting hard enough to redeem him.

Albus just kept his trademark grandfatherly smile on his face. "You need not feel guilty, Harry. When I passed, I was comfortable with the legacy I had left behind. I knew that despite whatever slanders would undoubtedly be thrown my way, those who I was lucky enough to call friends would never believe them. Rita Skeeter always was quite the talented liesmith. Still, it did not sway those like you, who knew me as the man I truly was."

"Albus. I'm so sorry. I should've done something about Skeeter's claptrap. I was just so busy with Voldemort and the war. Could you ever forgive me?"

He felt a hand on his shoulder. "My dear boy, there is nothing to forgive. I know in my heart that even though the seeds of doubt were sown in your mind, you never did give in to the propaganda. Death can give one such an interesting perspective into the minds of others. Know that I do not blame you or anyone else for succumbing to Ms. Skeeter's deception."

It felt good being vindicated, but something felt weird at the moment. He was missing something, and the unusually emotional and drawn-out conversation with Albus was making his suspicions rise.

"What exactly is going to happen, Albus? I have accepted Lady Death's task, but I don't know how I'm going to get there. What did you say to her?"

Albus' eyes twinkled merrily. "That, my dear boy, is a secret. All I can tell you that it involves your journey, specifically the… method with which you will use to get to your new world."

Harry growled. "Albus. You know that we agreed to not keep secrets from each other, especially after Sirius."

His mentor looked down. "I truly wish I could tell you, Harry. It is a secret that is between me and Lady Death. That is all you need to know. I ask that you trust me, Harry."

Harry sighed. While as a young boy, he had often willingly placed his blind trust onto others, he was loath to do so now. The war had made him a paranoid bastard and he found himself emulating Albus in many ways when leading the Resistance. The only difference was that Albus preferred non-violent solutions, whereas he opted to neutralize the enemy with proactive measures and lethal force.

Even though it went against his every instinct, he steeled himself and made a decision. "I trust you, Albus. Never think I wouldn't."

Death interrupted. "Well then, time to get this show on the road as you mortals say. Say your goodbyes, young Henry."

Harry walked over and gave his loved ones a hug. When Albus offered a handshake, he took the old wizard by surprise and pulled him into a hug. After a few seconds they parted and Harry made his way over to Death.

"I'm ready, my Lady. Though there's one thing I still don't know. How exactly is Voldemort going to be defeated?"

Death smiled slyly. "Do not worry about that, Henry. It will be taken care of the moment you return to your body."

Harry nodded and waved one last time before taking Death's hand. A glow emanated from them, dying his surroundings a brilliant white. He closed his eyes as it got too bright to see anything, and felt a suction force dragging him down. Letting himself go with the flow, Harry relaxed and felt like he had been submerged into water for a brief second before opening his eyes.

In front of him was the scene he had last witnessed before the Hallows dragged his consciousness to Limbo. Except now, Voldemort seemed to have regained consciousness and was kneeling within the ritual circle, gasping as the dark power of the Demonic God Abaddon crashed down upon him.

A green stream of screaming ghosts was flowing directly into the tear. Taking his conversation with Lady Death into the picture, Harry realized with horror that they were not ghosts, but the souls of those who had fallen victim to the plague. Abaddon was feasting on them as Voldemort fueled the ritual.

His red eyes lit up as they saw him wake up. "Back already, Potter. I thought you had given up when you turned your wand on yourself. My Wish is about to be granted. Soon, Lord Voldemort will be the first and only true immortal to ever walk the Earth. I will reign supreme over all beings, magical and muggle!"

A longing expression was on his face as he chuckled sinisterly.

Suddenly, a small white glow materialized in front of Harry. Within seconds, it started growing larger and larger. It looked much like a corporeal Patronus, except the figure within the light was human judging by the shape.

Just as quickly as it appeared, the light dissipated, leaving a smiling Albus Dumbledore in its wake. Voldemort's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. "You!" he venomously hissed. "What trickery is this?! I killed you myself!"

Albus chuckled. "Chalk it down to one of the many wonders of magic you would never be able to understand, Tom. You always were fearful of Death."

"You're too late to save your apprentice, Dumbledore. He has already lost, and there's nothing you can do to stop me from claiming what is rightfully mine!"

Albus lost his cheerful expression. A cold, hardened warrior, took his place. He drew himself up to his full height and projected his magical aura. The world trembled as the full might of Albus Dumbledore was unleashed towards the Dark Lord Voldemort.

A staff of light formed in his hands as he walked forward. Looking above Voldemort's position, he directly addressed the being that lay beyond the tear in reality. "Cease your actions at once, Demon God Abaddon! Those souls are not yours to take as you please. Go back to the Void from whence you came!" he yelled as he flexed his magic.

An evil presence bared down upon all of them after Albus spoke. A cacophony of a thousand layered voices sounded out in their minds.

"Who are you to deny me my spoils, filthy mortal? After I am finished with my meal, your soul will be next!"

Harry was driven to his knees as he couldn't fight against the pressure that the mere presence of Abaddon generated. Albus however, was unaffected.

Albus turned back to Harry with an expression of pure joy on his face. "It is time for me to finally fulfill a long abiding dream of mine."

Turning back to the tear, a bright light shone from the jewel embedded on top of his staff. "Evil such as yourself will never prevail against the Light. Good men will always stand against you. Now that you are trying to encroach upon this world, Lady Death has granted me the power to relay a message from her."

A laugh that echoed in thousands of pitches and tones sounded out. Harry grit his teeth as he felt blood pouring down his ears from the grating sound that shook his soul. "Ehahahahah! You dare to stand in my way proclaiming yourself Death's champion? I will enjoy tearing your soul into tiny pieces as I destroy your insignificant world."

"The message is as follows." Albus continued, ignoring Abaddon's threats. He lifted his staff high into the air. "You. Shall. Not. Pass!" he shouted with all his might. Slamming the staff down, a bright dome of light erupted around him and expanded. Upon hitting the tear, they heard thousands of tortured screams of pain simultaneously.

The tear immediately started getting smaller, and the stream of souls that were entering scattered. The shield around Voldemort's ritual shattered as he screamed in agony. The light seemed to cleanse the surrounding area, as it washed away Abaddon's leftover presence. The tear continued to gradually grow smaller until it disappeared.

Harry was blinking the stars out of his eyes and was greeted by a grinning Albus Dumbledore. Albus took him by the hand and helped him up. "I've always wanted to do that ever since I first read the books. I must say, that was quite an experience."

Harry laughed. "Big Tolkien fan, eh?"

Albus nodded. "Gandalf was a rather large inspiration for me. He was everything I wanted to be when I grew old. Slightly eccentric, but reliable. Strong and wise, yet willing to accept counsel and take responsibility for his failures. My ostentatious outfits though, were my own unique touch on the beloved character I emulated."

"I can totally see it now. I really did like Gandalf when I read the books. I picked up on the resemblance when Hermione first introduced the series to me after second year. The robes did throw me off though, seeing as Gandalf tended to dress like a pauper."

Albus scoffed. "While there were many things I appreciated about the character, I could never dress myself like that. A wizard's robes speak of status, and while mine were a bit wacky, it drew eyes to me, allowing me to command attention when I walked into a room. That and it allowed me to play the slightly dotty old man when my political opponents thought they were outsmarting me."

Harry grinned. "Wow. Never knew there were actual reasons behind those crimes against fashion you called robes."

Albus stared at him over his glasses with a disappointed look. "Now Harry, it is not nice to poke fun at your elders. Especially seeing that it was Martha Malkins who picked out the patterns for my robes. I am convinced that I was the guinea pig for her more… avant garde pieces."

This time it was Harry's turn to snort in amusement.

A moan interrupted their conversation and they both turned to see Voldemort unsteadily swaying on his feet. The smudged black stains surrounding him were the only proof that a sinister ritual had been attempted.

The effort of simply getting back to his feet seemed to be too much, as he was panting roughly at the exertion. The man who had brought the entire world to its knees was now doing his utmost just to stay standing as he glared at them.

"What have you fools done?!" he choked out as he gasped in pain.

Dumbledore saw his sad state and sighed. "Oh Tom. All this destruction. For what? To lord over a world of ashes? You were such a promising young man. Where did it all go wrong?" he whispered. His words carried across the silence.

Voldemort's laugh was low and raspy. "It was all because of you, Dumbledore. Your insistence that I return to those muggle scum who hated what I was. You are the sole reason I became Lord Voldemort. Your actions helped me realize that only power would allow me to escape the control of others."

It was a childish tactic to try and foist all the blame on Albus, and Harry knew it. A person had to have some accountability for their actions. Apparently, Albus understood this as well.

"I agree I made mistakes in sending you back over the summer, Tom. However, let us not pretend that you did not abuse the magic that you were blessed with to cause harm to others. Even before I delivered your letter, the seeds of darkness had already taken ahold of you.

I did my utmost to guide you towards a better, more righteous path. I may have gone about it the wrong way, but make no mistake, you were the one who chose to create those foul perversions of magic. You were the one who terrorized and ended many innocent lives. Do not presume that I alone will accept the blame for the monster you became, Tom."

Voldemort's shoulders slumped. "Do it then. Destroy the monster you created, Dumbledore."

Surprisingly, Albus didn't immediately follow through on the invitation, but turned around to him instead. He spoke slowly as he smiled. "It is time for this old man to clean up his mess. I wish you all the best on your next great adventure, my boy."

Harry heard a foreboding finality in Albus' words and tried to respond. That was when he felt his body go stiff, the familiar feeling of a Body-Bind cocooning him tightly. His eyes widened as Albus thrust his staff forwards and it sank into him.

He felt a brief yet violent shove as his soul was pushed out of his body. His new astral form left him weightless and disoriented as he desperately tried to acclimate to the situation. Albus smiled warmly and stepped forward, his soul entering the now empty body.

Harry saw his body convulse lightly before breaking the body bind. His voice sounded out. "Ahh. I long since forgot what being young felt like. I must say, it is excellent after languishing in Limbo for so long as an old man well beyond his prime."

Tom Riddle was both confused and horrified at what he had seen. Potter had been trapped in a body bind momentarily, and the old fool had disappeared soon after. Then, Potter's body shuddered and suddenly, his eyes opened. Instead of the green of the Killing Curse, they were an icy blue that glowed with hidden power.

The comment of being young drew his attention. 'Dumbledore took over Potter's body? Then where is Potter?'

His eyes flickered around, looking for a clue on what was happening in front of him. Then he saw it. His wand was on the ground trapped beneath a pile of rocks a few meters away. The ritual had disrupted his magic badly, so he was unsure whether he could successfully summon it from that far away. He decided to try it anyway, as a last-ditch effort. His desperation and will to survive started fueling his magic, and he could see his wand slowly being coaxed towards him.

Turning back to Dumbledore(?), he saw him calmly chanting with his eyes closed and his wand in front of him, pointing towards the sky. The chant was being whispered too quickly to translate, but he felt the immense power that was being coalesced. Whatever the old man was attempting to cast, it was something that he didn't want to be on the other end of.

He looked towards his wand with fear on his mind. If Dumbledore completed his spell, he was doomed, no two ways about it. However, if he managed to get his wand and kill him before he finished, there very well might be a way out for him.

The sounds faded away as he focused all his attention on his wand and reached out with his hand, willing it to come to him. It moved slightly more, but not quickly enough. Sweat rolled down his face as his arm shook from the effort, once his wand reached him, he had a single chance to kill Dumbledore. If he missed, or was too late… He dismissed all other thoughts and pushed his magic to bring his want to him.

Meanwhile, Dumbledore was continuing his chant uninterrupted. He was forging on, not paying the least bit of attention to his opponent's actions. Harry was panicking, loudly trying to get Albus' attention. He heard the complicated chant and didn't touch him, not wanting to mess it up.

When he was right about to lose hope and approach Albus, a powerful presence descended upon him. It was calm and comforting, nothing like the evil and frightening one of Abaddon. Looking around him, he saw that Lady Death had managed to sneak up on him, and was observing the situation with an unperturbed gaze.

The Elder Wand in Albus' hand started floating as he let go of it. The cloak on the ground flapped as it started floating as well, joining the wand and stone. The whispering stopped as Albus opened his eyes. Upon finishing, the Hallows started to wither away. In two breaths time, they had been reduced to dust in the wind.

"What the hell?! Why would Albus destroy the Hallows? How's he going to defeat Voldemort without them?!" Harry fretted.

"Be calm, child. Albus did not destroy them. He simply returned them to their rightful owner. It is part of the sacrifice for this ritual."

"What's the other part?" Harry promptly asked, despite knowing he wasn't going to like the answer.

"Body, magic, and soul of the caster." Death said without any emotion.

Harry turned back to the scene, and saw Albus waiting for Voldemort to summon his wand. 'How is he going to sacrifice his magic and soul if he's already dead?' That part didn't make any sense to him.

Death proved her near omniscience by answering the question he had asked in his head. "Once one reaches the afterlife, technically, their soul is all they have left. Their magic disappears to my sister's domain. When Albus pushed you out of your body, his soul took its place."

Harry was intrigued yet worried at the same time. "You said that magic disappears when a soul reaches your realm. How is he going to power a ritual without any magic?"

Death sighed. "That is a little more complicated to answer. Our bargain said that in exchange for half of your magic, he would take your place as the caster in the ritual. However, the price he is paying is far higher than what you would have paid."

Harry grit his teeth. 'Damn it Albus what kind of bargain did you make?'

It was then that he saw Voldemort manage to summon his wand. Without another word he cast the only spell that would kill his opponent for good.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Harry didn't know how the bastard could still have enough power to cast the Killing Curse. He saw the spell leave the wand, and all of a sudden time slowed down. The neon green beam of death slowly made its way towards Albus, except instead of dodging, Albus closed his eyes and stood there without lifting a finger in defense.

"Watch closely, Henry James Potter. Albus is making a sacrifice that many would never make." Death instructed him.

"What sacrifice is he making? He took my body and half my magic. He's already dead, so won't his soul just return to Limbo?"

Death shook her head. "Once a person dies, there is nothing else they can offer in a ritual. What Albus is offering in the place of the caster's soul, is his very essence. He is giving up his place in the afterlife and all he is so you can keep half of your magic on your journey to the next world.

Albus Dumbledore will be unable to reunite with his wife, as he never truly passed on. He chose to stay in Limbo indefinitely, waiting for your arrival. If I didn't know any better, I would say he predicted this very situation and this was always his plan."

Harry didn't know if souls could cry, but the sadness he felt threatened to overcome him. Albus was giving up his chance at the afterlife? For him? Knowing that his master was paying such a heavy price, he felt that he wasn't worth it.

'So what if I lost most of my magic? I could work my way back up. Merlin knows I'm able to work hard and persevere. He should know that! Why the hell would he do this?!'

Harry couldn't turn away. Listening to Death's instructions he watched unblinkingly. He saw Albus look back and their eyes met. He gave him a serene smile that said so many things. Harry smiled back and nodded.

Satisfied, Albus turned around and met the Killing Curse head on, with his arms splayed out to the sides. The curse struck him and Harry saw the light in his eyes fade. He let out a choked sob as he saw his master die for the second time in his life.

Seconds later, Harry's body started glowing brightly, and the magic started pulsing around it. With a great explosion of light, Harry saw his body disintegrate and a holy light spread out from where it had fallen. The light grew larger as it flew towards Voldemort. Before he could even yell out in terror, the light hit him and his body exploded.

Death put a hand on his shoulder and brought them higher. Harry saw the light continue it's path, spreading out across the entire globe from Scotland.

"The ritual that Albus completed was a divine cleansing ritual. The leftover remnants of Abaddon's energy along with that virus have been completely eliminated from the world. It will take decades, but slowly, the blessing of magic will start to return and more magicals will be born. With his sacrifice, Albus has saved this world from the brink of destruction." Death spoke softly.

Harry's shoulders slumped as he saw the light finally complete it's travel across the globe and disappear. "The price was too high. I could have paid it myself and gone to the other world as you offered. There was no need for Albus to do this."

"That is where you are wrong Henry. Albus chose to do this because of what little information I was allowed to give him. He felt that having your magic, even if it was halved, would be worth it. You were stronger than he was during his prime, and weren't that far off in knowledge either.

Granted he had more than a century of experience, but you were his successor, and they did a very good job training you. Not to mention, in the next world, your magic has the opportunity to grow further than it did here."

Harry sadly nodded and his determination to succeed skyrocketed. He would ensure that Albus' sacrifice wasn't in vain.

"It is time." Death's airy voice sounded out in his ears, bringing him out of his thoughts. He felt her hand on his shoulder.

"Good luck, young Henry. I hope you enjoy the new life you have been granted."

That was the last thing he heard before he felt himself being stretched and pulled across the cosmos. A bright multicolored tunnel formed around him as he was whisked to his destination.

'Well, hopefully my next life is better than this' Harry thought as his soul flew towards a bright light at the end of the tunnel.