A/N
Welcome to a Brothers Second Chance, and thank you for reading! Quick note before we begin, this book has two main characters, Harry Potter(Obviously) and his OC twin brother, Jacob Potter. Now I know what that looks like a recipe for, another horrible Wrong Boy Who lived fic, filled with cliches and tropes. And…yeah, there will be bits of that I'm sure. But I'm trying to do something that I feel is different and special with the "classic" idea, and I'm grateful for everyone who comes along for the ride! Without further ado, please enjoy A Brothers Second Chance!
The whole world shrunk down to a single pin prick, all he could see was the swirling black curtains supported by deep gray stone. To his eyes no other thing seemed to matter in this moment. And not just his sight, but every sense Jacob Potter had was focused on just this one moment, oblivious to the battle around him. The battle taking place to buy him time for what he must do.
He couldn't smell the burning flesh or the fresh blood falling around him. All his nose was filled with was the cold mist of death, painful to breathe but oddly refreshing to his exhausted soul. All he could feel as he stepped forward into that curtain that flickered without a wind, was the shimmering silver cloak on his back that seemed to itch and wiggle straight through his dragonhide coat. The ring that weighed on his finger like a thousand pound boulder, and the almost imperceptible, yet somehow bludger-like pull of the wand in his right hand. Like it was fighting to be freed from his fingers.
Jacob didn't hear the spell fire, the screams and cries and begging. All he heard was the angry whispers of the stone in his ring. Not whispers of the dead like many would have heard. No, the stone itself screamed at Jacob in those soft whispers. His cloak, a gift from his own Father, a family heirloom, swore at him in waves of contempt and rage. The rebellious wand in his fingers, taken from his brothers murderer by his own spellcraft and hard won skill, screamed disrespect at the man who dared call himself it's master.
The Deathly Hallows continued their silent screams even as Jacob reached up with the Elder Wand and tapped the dented and cracked time turner on his neck. The last time turner left in magical Britain.
"Vertere Maxima" He whispered, his voice half choked as the mists of the veil wormed their way deeper into his throat with every step he took towards it.
As the overpowered Spinning Hex took hold on the time turner and it began to glow with a blinding golden light, Jacob took the last step into the mists of the veil.
A strangled scream of rage was torn from a certain Dark Lord, followed by a stream of complex dark curses aimed where the grizzled young man once wrongly called the Boy-Who-Lived had stood mere seconds before. But the curses of Lord Voldemort came much too late as the mists of the Veil wrapped around the body of Jacob Potter like a long lost lover, and jealously ripped him away from the world of the living.
Jacob Potter blinked his eyes as the weight of the Deathly Hallows suddenly disappeared from his body and his soul. His constant, judging companions for the last five years had finally left his mind and magic free. And for one brief, quiet moment as he hung in a void of gray, Jacob was terrified. Terrified that he had failed. That he had been lied to by the hallows, seduced by those artifacts because he had failed their true master, and they could never bring him back.
"Do not doubt my Hallows, young Courier. Tempt though they may many mortal souls, lie? That they have never done." A silken voice said through the floating void, feminine in it's timbers and tones, but at the same time utterly inhuman to any being's ears.
Jacob whirled in the void, seeing nothing around him, not a figure, not even a floor or sky. Only empty gray.
"Are-Are you Death, perchance?"
The Lion of Gryffindor's voice was perhaps a tad shakym but its deep strength and confidence, once rattled by the loss of his brother returned to his throat and tongue at this moment when his goal seemed so close.
"Hmmmm. Indeed. That is the name the wizards of your home have given me, my Courier." the voice said with a humorous tinge, or what might pass as such to a voice beyond description and name.
"Courier?" Jacob whispered softly into the mass of gray clouds "Does that mean what I think it means? It has too, right? You can't be a courier without someone to deliver something too!"
A deep, rolling chuckle echoed from the rolling gray void.
"So presumptuous, little Courier! You hear one small title, and you assume all that you seek has unfolded before you."
Jacob's face fell and his body sagged, thoughts rushing through his mind at Death's words.
"Oh, chin up, Courier." Death whispered in both his ears at once, as a smoky tendril lifted Jacobs chin up to look forward "I did not say you were wrong, merely presumptuous."
"You mean…?"
"Yes, little Courier. Everything you have slaved for five years to reach is within your grasp. And mine. I am a timeless being, my Courier, but even I have grown impatient and anxious in this mere pittance of your years. To be masterless for so long, to feel my Hallows cry out in loss every moment of their time on your plane, is as close to pain as I can ever feel."
Jacob released a sight into this airless space, before squaring his shoulder and straightening his back.
"You can do it then? You can bring Harry back? With the power of the Hallows you can finally fix everything?"
"The Hallows do not Augment my power, Courier, only bestow a fragment of them to mortals. And I am afraid truly resurrecting what has fully passed on is beyond even my powers, my Courier."
"Dammit!" Jacob swore into the aether "All of this is for nothing then? I thought you could save Harry now? You said what I had worked for was within my grasp!"
"Calm yourself, Courier. There is more than one way to save a lost soul. As I said, it is beyond even my power to bring back a soul that has fully passed. But so long as a soul still lives but has crossed into my domain, I have options. Death and Life are not restricted by the concept of time. I can claim any soul not touched by that infernal ritual across any time, including the soul of your past self."
Jacob raised an eyebrow, but remained calm as he listened.
"How does killing me some time in the past help us now?"
"Because at this moment, you are both alive and dead in this domain. Your soul has entered into a timeless realm without dissipating. I can remove your past soul and mind from your body and replace it with the soul and mind of the you that exists right in this moment. Complete with all your memories, skills, and magical power.
I cannot save my Master, I cannot directly smite his enemies down and guide him to safety, but I can send you. I can send his strong, loyal, fierce brother to keep him safe. A brother who has seen every threat and pitfall that once tore my Master apart. A wizened brother to protect him, and a strong, dedicated Courier to guide him to my Hallows where they lie in his present."
Silence reigned in the wake of Death's words, ticking on seemingly forever in that timeless void between Life and Oblivion.
"What if I fail him again?" Jacobs' voice finally asked through the oppressive sheet of quiet "What if I just screw everything up again? What if I try to help him, and I hurt him more than I did before?"
"Oh, my Courier." Death whispered, the gray forms swirling around his tall, scarred form "Never have you failed my Master, nor have you ever truly hurt him. No, no never you. Did you misunderstand him? Fear him at times? Ignore him when you should have welcomed his words and help? Yes. But my Masters death was never on your head, Courier. That crime rests on your father for abandoning his own son, on Albus Dumbledore for meddling in forces no mortal man could ever control. And most importantly, most importantly, it is on the retched, conniving Tom Riddle, who ripped reality by abusing a cursed ritual that should never have existed.
Do you understand my Courier? You are not a spear that has ripped through my Master that I now send to fight for him, you are a shield that broke in my master's defense who I am giving a second chance to protect him. Do you understand your place? Your purpose? Your…. Destiny?"
Jacob felt a bolt of lightning jolt up his spines at those last words, and his lips tightened into a grim line. He nodded curtly once.
"I do. I'm ready. Send me back, I failed him once, I won't fail Harry again."
"Then, my courier, GO!"
With that single mighty word, a word infused with more magic than any spell, the gray mists of this plane beyond time surged forward, and slammed into the waiting form of Jacob Potter.