Clearing in the Forbidden Forest, 2020

Harry could feel his wand against his chest, but he made no attempt to draw it. He knew that the snake was too well protected, knew that if he managed to point the wand at Nagini, fifty curses would hit him first. And still, Voldemort and Harry looked at each other, and now Voldemort tilted his head a little to the side, considering the boy standing before him, and a singularly mirthless smile curled the lipless mouth.

"Harry Potter," he said very softly. His voice might have been part of the spitting fire. "The Boy Who Lived."

None of the Death Eaters moved. They were waiting: Everything was waiting. Hagrid was struggling, and Bellatrix was panting, and Harry thought inexplicably of Ginny, and her blazing look, and the feel of her lips on his- Voldemort had raised his wand. His head was still tilted to one side, like a curious child, wondering what would happen if he proceeded. Harry looked back into the red eyes, and wanted it to happen now, quickly, while he could still stand, before he lost control, before he betrayed fear-

He saw the mouth move and a flash of green light, and everything was gone.

-Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

Time passed. Perhaps seconds, perhaps years, as Harry gradually adjusted to continued consciousness. He was content. There was no pain, no anxiety, responsibility, or tension. The more he thought about it, the more Harry realised he was comfortable, floating there. The temperature was pleasantly warm, and his mind felt clearer than he could ever recall, as though he had pierced through a haze that had obscured his thoughts all his life.

Harry wondered what the afterlife looked like, and no sooner had the thought crossed his mind than his eyes opened and he became aware of a great open white space, perfectly clean, yet not sterile, with pleasant warm white wood below his body.

A giggle, from behind him. It sounded like it belonged to a woman, and in the back of his brain, a familiar feeling stirred, a voice he would never forget, even though it had been nearly sixteen years since he heard it from the source. In that moment, the wonderful realization that the laugh belonged to his mother, his mother who was actually present, and everything that might have gone wrong in the world, every sorrow and loss, any residual worry about his friends was banished from his mind as happiness, love and joy powerful enough to cast a patronus brighter than the sun swept through his mind and body, he spun and ran to Lily Evans Potter, his mother, in the flesh.

Harry threw his arms around his mother, buried his face in her dark red hair, and wept with joy. Their emotions threatened to overwhelm them as they both experienced a love sixteen long, hard years in waiting. He inhaled the scent a baby never forgets, the scent of his mother, and the tears of joy just came harder and faster. When he pulled back, he gazed into her emerald green eyes- 'my eyes!' Harry thought happily- filled with a depth of love and caring kindness that made his heart ache, damp from tears as his no doubt were as well, (though he didn't care in the slightest.) They both had smiles so wide they threatened to split their faces, and a joy so pervasive it felt as though the very air was charged with emotion.

All of a sudden a glimmer of mischief appeared in Lily's eyes, as she choked out, "Honey, hic- you're- hic- naked!" she giggled wetly.

Mortified, Harry glanced down and flushed in embarrassment. No sooner than the thought formed, he was fully clothed in a white tee shirt and soft cotton pants. They stared at each other for a moment, before, "Mum!" Harry exclaimed, and they both collapsed into a fit of laughter and joy. Harry felt the simple thrill of pleasure at the use of 'mum' and in that moment, he knew he had never been happier.

"I am so proud of you, my son," Lily whispered to him, with an enormous smile.

"You have no idea how long I've waited to hear that," Harry whispered back.

"Yes, well, Alice owes me a Galleon, I bet her my son would be better than hers," she grinned. "How many people can claim to have killed a basilisk at twelve?"

Harry looked down bashfully, and muttered something about Fawkes, to which Lily replied with warm peals of laughter. "How is it possible that James is your father? Your ego is the exact opposite of his."

"My ego is perfectly sized, thank you very much!" Harry said in mock offense. "Besides, the environment I grew up in wasn't exactly conducive to arrogance."

Lily's eyes grew fiery, nearly incandescent with rage. Harry shuddered and suddenly understood why Voldemort would treat her as a greater threat than Alice Longbottom. "Yes, I imagine once dear Vernon ends up dead, the two of us shall be having words."

Harry tried to protest but the murderous look in her eyes stayed his tongue. To placate her, he extremely skillfully and subtly changed the subject of the conversation.

"I never did learn as much as I wanted to," Harry confessed disappointedly. "Hogwarts' classes gave a good grounding in mechanics, but the specific spells and whatnot we learned were useless, and I always had to focus on learning combat magic to survive."

Lily made a disdainful noise. "Honey, your combat magic is terrible. I mean honestly, who defeats Tommy with a disarming charm? At least my way had gravitas and panache. Nothing like willing human sacrifice to power a life-for-a-life trade. Besides, books on magic beyond complicated charms like the fidelius are mostly just suggestions and ideas. Magic is first and foremost about intent, and occasionally will, sacrifice, and symbolism. Once I got over the novelty of magic, I realized that nearly all wizards are stupid, and the rules they impose upon themselves are nonsensical. I mean really, relying on a stick for 100% of their magic, chanting nonsense and wearing pajamas? Your incredible skill was your willpower. You are the only recorded person to ever throw off Voldemort's Imperius curse. And you managed to do it right after being tortured!"

Lily looked at Harry with a proud smile. "You consistently beat Voldemort in direct battles of wills. And that was with a piece of soul lodged in your head constantly sapping your strength. Harry, you can do whatever you want and excel at it, through sheer stubbornness. I've watched your entire life, and I know you can excel at magic. Even with a parasitic soul leech sucking on you for your entire childhood, you were apparating around, color changing, and vanishing with no formal training."

Harry sighed. "Not anymore. Unless…" he thought about wanting his wand in hand, a smooth and unbroken length of holly wood with a phoenix feather from a friend. The desire took shape in his head and was instantly fulfilled. He held his wand happily, luxuriating in the warmth of his magic responding to its touch." Glancing at Lily mischievously, Harry twitched his wand and giggled when his mum's red hair turned blue.

Lily noticed it, grinned impishly, and summoned her own wand. Soon the two of them were shooting harmless spells at each other, laughing, and generally having a great time. Harry felt a deeper connection than ever to his wand while bobbing and weaving around prank jinxes. The magic he called for raced down his arm eagerly, warming him to his very heart. It was an ecstatic feeling, the ease at which his spells formed at the tip of his wand, shooting forth at his mere suggestion.

He noticed while trying to corner his mother that she was good. All her shots would land where he was moving were he not to change directions. Harry kept having to shield from Lily's accurate spellfire. Conversely, his shots, while pinpoint accurate too, were generally blocked by shield charms he had never seen and occasionally, a transfigured obstacle.

When they stopped the mock fight, Harry and Lily were both grinning like loons. He flopped onto his back, breathing heavily. "You'd give James a run for his money during his school days," Lily complimented. "Your accuracy is incredible, if your spell selection is a bit lackluster. I've not had to move like that since Hogwarts!"

Harry beamed at her praise. "Thanks. You know more spells than I've even heard of. I don't think I saw you use the same shield charm twice!" He turned thoughtful. "Where is dad, anyways? If you're here, shouldn't we be able to meet the other dead?"

"I'm not sure," Lily peered around the empty open space. The only stuff there besides the floor was the obstacles they had transfigured during their mock duel. "I don't really know what I expected of death, honestly. For so long, it's just been watching my baby boy grow up." She favored her son with a fond smile.

"Probably because you weren't dead," A new voice observed. The white fog ahead gave way to a modest house, the speaker sitting on a rocking chair holding a pair of knitting needles. Hanging off of those implements was a breathtaking quilt the figure seemed to be knitting almost absentmindedly. Glorious colors, crimson reds, blues so beautiful the word 'blue' hardly seemed to do it justice, and verdant greens mere nature seemed incapable of matching, all mixed together so skillfully to tell a story as to be incomprehensible. Yet for all of its beauty, neither mother nor son could understand or grasp the tapestry, for something of such beauty could only be a tapestry, despite its shape as a quilt. The shapes seemed to fall just short of comprehension, yet they knew with certainty the story it told was majestic and grand.

Behind the wicker chair an old rusty sword was propped against the wall. The woman on the chair was hands down the most beautiful person Harry had ever seen. She made Fleur Delacour look like a tramp in her seventies wearing a paper bag smeared in mud. Everything about her glowed with an inner light, as if her body alone couldn't contain her power. Eyes like a kaleidoscope of color, dark lashes, silky black hair, and a kind smile.

She set aside her knitting needles and introduced herself. "Hi, I'm God!" She beamed.


Lily's eyes sparkled in a way that made Harry's breath catch as questions spilled out of her. He watched in wonder as she leaned in, green eyes sparkling in interest, and listened intently at the answers given.

"Are you the only God? Do you get offended if people worship gods other than yourself? Are you always female or do you switch at all? Which religion is closest to real?

God laughed, and the sound was unlike anything Harry had ever heard. It sounded like the peal of a great bell, the happy noises a baby makes, the sound of warm rain on a great field, a great clap of thunder, all at once. Simply hearing it caused ecstatic joy, and a sense of rightness that seemed to transcend reality.

"I suppose it depends on what you consider a 'God' She smiled. "Voldemort," her face made a moue of distaste, "technically fulfilled the criteria for gods from other pantheons like the Greek or Roman. Powerful, never ages, can survive the death of his body, and so on. I'm the only multi-cosmic trans-temporal omniscient being, yes, and I certainly don't get offended if people worship other gods. When you observe time as I do, getting angry about all but the most atrocious acts is very difficult. Especially when you consider everyone is a child of me personally."

Harry hoped he wouldn't get smited or sent to Hell for asking, but he had to know. "Why don't you intervene, then?"

God set aside her knitting needles. "Conflict is hard to watch because I've lived it myself. It was the main reason I did the whole 'Jesus' thing. If you remember the Old Testament, a lot of it was very 'fire and brimstone' because I didn't fully understand the human perspective. Living in poverty, dealing with human vices like greed and such, made connecting with my children much easier. After that, I came to value a certain trait much more than before; free will.

"It's very tempting sometimes, to give little nudges and pokes here and there, just to make the world a better place. But in the end, it's not my place. It's your place to make the world the way you want to see it. Earth is your birthright, but it's also your responsibility. I realized after choosing to let the Romans kill me, if I never let people choose wrong, they aren't choosing at all.

"You are the master of your destiny, you are responsible for your decisions. Tom Riddle continuously and deliberately chose to hurt others. In a perfect world, he wouldn't have grown bitter at being forced back into an orphanage in London when the city was being bombed, embittering him towards Dumbledore and setting him on a dark path in search for power and vengeance. In a perfect world, Bellatrix Black wouldn't have been tortured and broken into serving Tom Riddle, and Neville would have grown up with his parents."

God looked at them seriously, saying "But a perfect world is boring. That's what Heaven is for. What makes the mortal plane so special is that it's raw, flawed, broken, and savage, but people are still good!" She gave a triumphant smile. "Severus Snape didn't have to dedicate his entire rather miserable life to keeping you safe. But he did it anyway. Dumbledore didn't have to break his own heart and lock up his childhood friend, discarding his hopes and dreams for the good of the faceless masses. But he did it anyway."

God beamed at the pair with naked pride. "I am never more proud of you when you make the right choice, the hard choice, just because you should. At the end of the road, there is no hidden tally of goodness and badness which decides your eternal damnation or salvation. You did good deeds for no other reason than it was right, and that makes all the difference."

Harry came to a realization which made him rather cross with God. "If free will is so important, why do prophecies exist? Why did you or some other higher power decide to corral me into a path before I was even born?"

The divine being in the rocking chair in front of him smiled sadly. "You were the best candidate. You bore the weight of destiny the best out of any who could. Prophecies do not violate free will because contrary to popular belief, they do not force you to do anything. If Tom Riddle never came to your house intent on murder, nothing would have happened. You could choose to simply leave Britain, you could choose to ignore my words entirely."

Harry ran his fingers through his hair frustratedly. "They would never have stopped hunting me! Voldemort and Dumbledore forced me to fulfill the prophecy."

Lily was incensed on her son's behalf. He was right, he never really was given a choice. She waited for God's answer. "That's their prerogative. Free will is a double-edged sword. Voldemort can choose to hunt you down even after you make it clear you have no intention of trying to kill him, just as Dumbledore could have chosen to groom Neville for the prophecy instead."

"But why Harry!" Lily exploded, "how could you have known he would be the best for the job? If you look forwards in time or the universe is deterministic, how does that count as free will?"

God patiently explained, "The universe is not deterministic. Time is not linear. It is the fourth dimension, not the first." She looked mischievous for a moment saying "It's really more a big ball of wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey stuff. If time was linear, you could only go forwards and backwards. Were it planar, you might think of it like an enormous double-sided tree. In three dimensions, time would work like a bizarre interconnected tree. Human minds can't even really comprehend three dimensions of time, much less four. You can experience about three and a half spatial dimensions in total."

She waved her hand dismissively. "The point is you, specifically Harry, would have killed Voldemort. The stubbornness, that sense of justice and indomitable spirit is part of your soul. That morality, that drive which is so quintessentially you, Harry, that is why I chose you for the prophecy. Prophecies are messy business, but a necessary evil. They are my little loophole in free will. A few words, carefully placed, can pull events out from a downward spiral.

"Part of what makes you so special is that you never fail. You, Harry Potter, have never failed to stop Tom Riddle's murderous rampage across all four dimensions of time. In infinite timelines so to speak, your sense of justice and incredible strength triumph the greatest evil of your time."

Harry began to feel rather proud. And why shouldn't he? Harry managed to pit six years of halfhearted magical training against eighty years of experience and dozens of ruthless followers, and came out on top. He may have died before finishing the job, but he had faith in Neville. The other child of the prophecy would be able to slay Nagini, and Tom Riddle would be mortal for the first time in over sixty years. He had died for Hogwarts and her children, and like his mother, his sacrifice would render his friends untouchable.

"You know," God spoke casually, "Dumbledore wanted to come here and explain this to you. Sometimes he does, but I rather wished to meet you. You fulfilled your prophecy. When I feel forced to meddle in the mortal plane, I compensate those most impacted. As the most wronged party, you shall receive the greatest reward."

Harry was dumbfounded. "Can we go back?" he asked tentatively. "-to life," he clarified. "Me and mum," he gestured.

God laughed merrily. "Harry, what ever made you think either of you were dead?"

Lily blinked. "We were both hit with killing curses."

"Ah, yes I suppose it's understandable you might think that. Well no matter. I have a different sort of reward in mind, one which has already made its way to you in a manner. Welcome to a rather exclusive club, Harry. You're immortal."

Harry felt like someone had snipped the elevator cables holding up his heart. He had thought about what those horcruxes meant, what immortality meant. Harry did not want to outlive his friends and family. He'd only just met his mother and did not intend to let her go so easily. "How has this supposed reward made its way to me?" he asked rather hostilely.

"You picked up a handful of baubles during your horcrux hunt. A stick and a stone, if I remember rightly," she smiled.

"But I dropped the stone!" Harry protested, "and I've never even touched the wand. I don't want to leave mum here and never see my dad or Sirius or Dumbledore again."

"Didn't I say neither of you were dead?" God asked amusedly. "I'm not just sending you right back where you came from. You don't have to leave here and if you do, it's not like you aren't allowed back. Master of death, Harry. Master. You can come and go, bring and send, show or hide from death. I have known you since you began to exist, right after a particularly wild Halloween party," she winked at a blushing Lily. "I'm rewarding you. Your heart's desire has always been for family. I have no doubt you will be in heaven in heaven," Harry and Lily both groaned at the atrocious pun, "but I know you want your own family," she waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

"So I'm giving you a choice. I know you, and you are rather unreasonably selfless, so I shall frame this in such a way that you will undoubtedly accept. Your universe is not the only one out there. Destiny and prophecy can be a heavy cross to bear as you well know. How would you like to travel different worlds, supporting others on their paths, learning and growing across countless multiverses.

"You will be free to come and go from Heaven whenever you wish, and you may use the Resurrection stone whenever you wish. Should you choose to accept, "she rolled her eyes. It was so obvious he would, God could see him practically hopping in eagerness. "I've got a little itinerary for the first few jumps I made in preparation. This first world has big problems and strong enemies, but ultimately it will arm you for your next journeys. After that," she paused dramatically. She never got to ham it up like this, she tried to make prophecies rare and rarely had to grant such grand rewards. "You may return to your original world, at the time you mastered your first Hallow."

"I accept," Harry said instantly. This decision was the easiest one he had ever made. Lily was grinning happily and Harry planned to visit her whenever he could.

"Good!" God pulled a sheaf of paper from nowhere, checking boxes off with a red Sharpie. "Authority to violate prophecy, E-Z Heaven pass, transdimensional cargo permit," she muttered. "I'm sending you all your belongings, as well as a few friends you've missed. To return here, wrap yourself in your cloak and apparate with myself as destination. I'll make sure you get where you want to go. Before I send you off, I've got a bit of advice to give. The Resurrection stone gives you access to all the knowledge of the dead. Besides that, Immortality is hard to achieve. Agelessness is not. Once you crack eternal youth, any family you have can live as long as they like. Last bit: bringing someone back from the dead is technically possible. It's rather fiendishly difficult, but you've got the ideal tools for the job." She signed the sheaf of papers with a flourish and tossed them over her shoulder where they vanished.

"Toodles!"

The white landscape vanished, and Harry fell six feet onto the grass below.