The last thing I remembered was typing in the HP sub, swearing at some blathering idiot, and the blinding headache that followed after.

Like any good reincarnation story, mine started the day I died. Which was quite funny—but not so much in a ha-ha way—since I hadn't believed in reincarnation and there I was, sitting in front of God's desk in a tropey white room, being told I was getting a chance to start over. Funnier was that I'd been an atheist. Shows what you know, huh?

The God in question was a silver-haired old man with a beard as long as himself tucked into the belt of his white robe, and he looked at me with twinkling blue eyes. Something about the whole scene seemed very familiar, and for a moment I forgot he was talking. "Sorry, but do I know you?"

"...and you get to take three items with you—what?"

"I don't think I've ever met you personally but you seem familiar, do I know you?"

"You've prayed to me a couple of times, if that helps."

"No, I saw you somewhere, I remember the beard—" It hit me and I jumped excited out of my slump. "Gandalf!"

"No."

God grimaced; the twinkle was fast disappearing, and his stare made me remember that there was such a thing as the Wrath of Gods. I settled back into my chair. Best not get on his wrong side, after all my life was currently in his hands.

"Sorry. You were saying something about three items?"

We had been discussing my reincarnation. It was quite embarrassing. It seemed I had not done well enough to get into heaven but luckily hell didn't exist so instead I was going to be reincarnated to try over. He had said where I was going to be sent but I had been distracted by the fact that I had just died, by the glint in his silver beard, and then the inexplicable feeling that I'd seen him before. If not Gandalf, then who?

"Are you listening?"

"Yes, of course," I said, squashing the nagging voice in the back of my head that was telling me I was lying to an all knowing God. "I would get three items to assist me. This is very much like an Isekai anime, will there be monsters to fight?"

"…Yes."

"Nice." This was actually quite exciting, and I ignored his glare. I was finally starting to look forward to it and secretly thought it was not much of a punishment for not making it to heaven. I would belong to a guild and get interesting travelling companions, and the way these things went I would quickly become the most overpowered hero there. And girls! Measure that against harps and I knew which one I'd prefer any day of the week. "So the three items? Do I get to choose or are they standard for everyone?"

He pinched his nose between thumb and forefinger. That was so reminiscent of my parents and my teachers, and all my bosses directly before they fired me, and that one time a girl nearly said yes, she'll be my girlfriend but backed out when I started my happy-dance preemptively, that I wondered who a God prayed to for patience if they were the only one in existence. I asked.

"To myself. And currently it is not working so well. Tell me, do you ever listen to anyone other than yourself?"

"Of course I do."

"Then you would already know the answer to your question. Do you?"

He was starting to look impatient so I wracked my brain for the information.

Nothing.

God tapped his fingers on his desk.

I felt my ears heat up.

"Sorry. Shall we start over?"

"No, your time is up."

A white light flashed over me.

I went from light to dark and was so relieved to be alive that I closed my eyes for a moment. Then I took stock. I could feel a bed under me, a thin mattress, and a scratchy blanket—damn, I really wanted to be rich. I carefully examined myself, coming to the conclusion that all my limbs were intact and I was still wearing glasses. Did I reincarnate as myself after all? I swore, and somewhere a woman shouted, "Freak! Get here right now!"

"I'm coming, Aunt Petunia!" I shouted.

And just like that I knew where I was. I tried to get up but my legs were not doing their familiar thing, and I fell instead. Thankfully I was just a short distance to the floor, and I got away with banged knees only, and I felt blindly about me for the door, adding a banged elbow to the mess.

Something brushed my face, and I yanked it. A light clicked on above my head, and I saw I was kneeling in a cupboard beside a small cot that had a broom and mop next to it and a rack with cleaning paraphernalia behind it. I had no time to investigate any of that, for the door opened, and a horse-faced woman yanked me out by the arm, clawed fingernails digging into my skin.

"Do you think I like calling you?" She aimed a smack at my head which I ducked away from, or rather I think the body did it by itself out of muscle memory, just like it had answered. "Get in the kitchen and make breakfast!" she yelled, shoving me in the direction of a door. "You have ten minutes, boy!"

I legged it to escape her claws and found myself in a kitchen, barely able to look over the top of the table. I was so small! What the hell had God done to me? Made me a four-year-old Harry Potter?

Could I do magic? I waved my hands at the fridge. "Alohomora!"

All that happened was I saw I had the small, bony fingers of a child, and that I had a tiny golden ring with a black stone on my left thumb. It didn't come off when I pulled it and clung to my finger no matter how I twisted it. God!

"You called?" God asked, suddenly appearing in front of me. He looked in a much better mood and smiled with the full twinkle. "How do you like your new life?"

"You've made me Harry Potter! Why am I so small?" Oh my God, I sounded like a three-year-old! "Am I three?"

"Four," God said. "If you care to remember you said—"

The door burst open behind me, interrupting him. "Who are you talking to?" Harry's aunt shouted and I watched stunned as she walked right through God to open the fridge and pull a pack of bacon out. She threw it on the kitchen table. "You had better start cooking boy, you know your uncle will not be happy if breakfast is late!"

"Yes, Aunt Petunia!" my mouth said and I ducked when she aimed a pan at my head before clattering it down on the stove.

When she propped her hands on her hips and stood back to watch me, I realised I had to do something, anything, so I picked up the bacon and got started. I lit the hob and stood on tiptoe to shake the bacon into the pan which seemed to satisfy her but I stopped cooking the moment she left to hiss at God. "You made me four! Why?"

"Take a moment to think about it."

I did. It didn't make sense at all and I said so. He shrugged. I don't know why he thought I would know his mind but I did realise something else and put that on the backburner. "You gave me the Resurrection Stone to talk to you, but you said three things, did you give me the cloak and the Elder Wand also? Where are they?"

"Back in your room."

"It's not a room, it's a cupboard," I said, feeling pissy at him for being cryptic. And I didn't have to cook breakfast or stay with the Dursleys if I had those things, did I? Leaving the bacon on the stove I marched back to my cupboard, past a surprised Petunia who had sat herself down in front of the telly.

The items lay on the small cot but there was no time to admire them as Harry Potter's aunt had found her wits and started to scream like a siren behind me. I grabbed the wand, and threw the cloak over me. When I disappeared from her sight she yelled "Vernon! Vernon! Help!" and rushed, arms outstretched, for where she saw me last, but I was already halfway to the door.

"Bye, Aunt Petunia!"

"Get back here!"

"What are your plans?" God asked me at the curb.

Inside the house Petunia was having a right fit and I could hear Vernon telling her to let me go if I wanted, good riddance to the little freak.

I thought I understood it now. "Twisting the ring lets me talk to you, right? The Resurrection stone was supposed to bring your loved ones, did you change it? Would it bring mine or Harry Potter's? Or just you?"

"So many questions. Are you going to listen to the answers this time?"

"Yes." It had calmed down in number 4. No-one was rushing to follow me and I figured we had time.

"If you need me I will come," God said. "As to the rest, you are Harry Potter."

So it would be Harry's parents. It figured. I probably needed to think about them when I twisted it, something I definitely did not want to do. Ever.

"Yeah, about that. Just so you know, I don't think you're very funny. Did you do this because of the way I died? You did, didn't you?"

"Funny? All you could talk about was how you would have done better than TheBigKahuna001—"

"It was just a stupid self-insert fanfic, you act as if you wrote it! And it was garbage! What's the use of writing yourself into Harry Potter if you just faff about, fixing nothing? Eleven year old and trying to keep a harem of all things! He didn't even use the magic properly!" I could feel the vein bulge in my forehead again. "My dog could have written a better fic—a four-year-old could have done be—"

"…"

Fuck.

"Exactly." God smirked. "Let's see you do it."

"Talking about something doesn't mean you want to do it, you know. Why don't you go away? Would turning the ring shut you up also? Make you go back to where you came from?"

I started walking down the hot pavement, twisting at the ring. Note to self, never run away without shoes on.

"Or give me shoes at least, you put me here, the least you could do is give me shoes!"

No answer.

I turned to swear at him, but God was gone.

When I saw the park I was happy to get grass under my boiling feet, and went to sit on the swings to take stock. There was no one about but I kept the cloak on just in case someone wondered why a kid was playing unsupervised.

I was bloody Harry Potter.

I twisted the ring. God appeared in front of me, munching on a sandwich. "You called?"

"Once I've fixed things, do I get to go back to my own life?"

"No."

Irritated, I twisted the ring to make him go away. Then twisted it again to bring him back.

"Why do you have to eat? Do you have a real body? Petunia walked right through you—"

"Would you bother to listen if I answered any of that?"

I twisted the ring.