Disclaimer: The rights to the Harry Potter series go to J.K. Rowling. All original ideas present in this belong to me.

Chapter Twenty-Two | Visits, and a Five-Year Plan

I look around at my surroundings, finding myself terribly confused. For some reason I'm in the Gryffindor common room. The familiar tapestries of warm red and gold hang from the walls, the fireplace that usually crackles merrily off to the side is devoid of heat, stale charcoal lying behind worn steel bars. The room is frigid, piercing, the cold cutting through to my bones, my muscles quaking and shivering under its onslaught. I walk over to the fireplace, knowing that even if the fire is out it's still warmer next to the dense stone, pulling my robes tighter around me in an effort to stave off the cold.

"Long time no see."

I whip around, wand at the ready, but I glance down in a panic. No wand. I flick my hand, attempting to conjure animated blades and other weapons from the ground and air. Nothing. I look up to the source of the voice and my stomach knots, bile rising in my throat.

Ron looks back at me, a faint smile on his face as he sits cross legged on the couch. His eyes are empty, rotted away, cavernous voids where they once rested. He grins, his mouth opened wide, giving me a glance of festering teeth dotted with blackened pockets of scum, slowly crumbling away. He waves playfully, his skin yellow and gray.

"You well?" he rasps, his voice as worn as his body, the sound like gravel under a cars tires.

"Ron… what's going on? Is this a dream?" I murmur, staring at him in horror and confusion. I rub my eyes, blinking as I look at him.

He's still there.

"This is just a dream, just a terrible, terrible dream," I continue in a mild panic, nausea tickling away at my stomach.

"Yes, this is a dream, but… it's very real," he replies, resting his clasped hands on his leg. "I just thought I'd drop by and say thank you for avenging me."

"Avenging you? You mean killing Dumbledore? You know he's not dead, dead, right?"

He cocks his head to the side, eyebrows slightly raised and another terrifying grin on his decomposing visage. "Yes, I know, but it's the thought that counts," he states succinctly. "Crazy awesome fight by the way. I watched the whole thing, bloody impressive that was. Oh yeah! You're probably confused," he says sheepishly. "Death said it would be alright if I came by and said thank you. Sorry about the whole look, you know, probably a bit freaky" he continues, gesturing at himself and shrugging in embarrassment. "Apparently this is how I look if I want to pop into your dreams. Not very attractive if I say so myself."

"You've definitely had better days," I laugh hoarsely, still not believing what I'm seeing. "Is that… is that really you?"

He scratches his head, a tuft of dull red hair getting caught in his fingers and falling to the ground. "Well, I'm not real, right? But I'm not a part of your imagination. It's really hard to explain, so I'm not even going to bother." He shrugs lazily, and I notice the way his robes hang off his body, as if there's only skin and bone underneath. I'm very glad I can't see beneath them.

"Death filled me in on your whole… time travel thing. Pretty crazy if you ask me. Told me how we were best mates in your past life… basically crammed all the memories of the other me into my head. Bit confusing that was," he says, tapping his temple with one finger. "I just wanted to say that I'm glad you tried to bring me back, even though we weren't really friends in this life and I'd probably have pitched a fit for you using dark magic," he laughs, before pursing his lips, his features falling into a sad frown.

"I don't have much time here, so I've got to go soon… but I've got to ask. Could you please look out for Ginny for me? She's taking my death really hard, and I don't want to see her fall to pieces," he requests, smiling morosely at me as I break into tears. "She's my favourite sibling you know? Little Gin-Gin, the baby of the family… just- look out for her, would ya'?"

"I can, and I will, I'll watch after her," I sob, wiping the tears away from my eyes, blinking hard as I try to compose myself. "I'm gonna' miss you mate. I'm gonna' miss you so damn much."

"I'll miss you too. You take it easy alright? I've got an afterlife to get back to. You know, it's the only place I can find someone who can actually beat me in chess? I'll tell your parents you said hello, yeah?"

"Sounds fantastic," I quaver. "I'll uh- see you in a hundred years or so."

"I'll see you then," he grins, waving once more. "Also! Forgot to mention, you look hot as a bird Harry, great genetics there," he laughs, walking out of the common room and back to wherever he came from.

-::-

I wake up crying, sobbing violently. Was that real? Was that just in my head?

"No, that wasn't just in your head."

"Hey Death," I reply glumly, noticing the deity peering down at me. "So… that was real, was it?"

"Yes, every bit of it," he says, nodding his head, his black eyes locked on mine. "I thought I'd do that for you as a favour, considering you reclaimed my wand last night."

"Th-thanks. It was good to get some closure… say goodbye and all that," I sigh, a slight hitch in my breath as I come down from my recent crying session, 'a good cry' Terra would call it. I smirk at that thought. "So… do I give the wand back to you, or do I get to keep it for the time being?"

"Hades no, I wouldn't take that from you," Death says, hands raised to decline the offer. "Just because it's mine doesn't mean I need it. It's yours until the day you come to my realm permanently. If I truly wanted I could take it back at any time, but I get so bored sometimes. That wand you hold is one of the few sources of my entertainment," he smiles dangerously. "So many people fight over it… kill for it. No, that wand will pass from hand to hand until wizards are no longer of this world."

"That doesn't make me feel too confident about using it," I reply, holding the wand out in front of me with pinched fingers, looking at it with disdain as if its about to kill me itself.

"Nonsense. You're half dead already, and I intend to see you live a long and full life. Paperwork, you know, it'd be a bloody mess if I had to go through the trouble of sending you back again. No, Miss Potter, you will die at a ripe old age in an incredibly boring and unmentionable way."

"…and what way would that be?"

"Old age," Death snarks back, rolling his eyes. Yes, I can tell when he rolls his eyes now. "Something silly like organ failure. What do you expect of someone past a hundred years old? To die in the middle of an orgy at a Veela conclave? Pistols at dawn? No, you'll die a boring regular death."

"Well… that's reassuring," I drawl, unsure of how to take Death's incredibly nonchalant approach to my death. I guess it is his thing to be indifferent about death, still doesn't make me feel too good about it. "The wand is just a very powerful wand? No tricks?"

"Since when have I tricked you? Honestly, you mortals are all so untrusting, it's a wonder you get anything done," he mocks, pinching the bridge of his nose between two spider-like fingers. "There is no deceit, no tricks, no misleading you. I'm nothing like those stories of Zeus or those other deities, self-righteous pricks that they were. I don't meddle with the mortal world unless something goes terribly, terribly wrong, like someone dying a good hundred years before they were supposed to."

I slip the wand back under my pillow, nodding my assertion. "Well, thanks for not meddling with my life."

"Speaking of meddlers, what have you decided to do with the old man? I have to say, I was very entertained to see you put him in his place, as rash and stupid as it was to confront him head on."

"Well, I'm still planning on destroying his reputation," I say thoughtfully, looking up and squinting one eye as I ponder what to do. "I haven't really thought about it to be honest, considering I didn't expect to come out of that fight in one piece. I thought I'd have to flee the country or lay low somewhere. I think I'll use him in the fight to come. Keep him at Hogwarts and directing things where I want them to go. His political reputation is going to be ruined, but that was going to happen at the end of next year anyways after I kill Voldemort."

"A wise plan," Death agrees, twiddling his thumbs childishly. "I would recommend that you make attempts to step into the political scene soon, as I believe your fight will not be truly won until you send not just Tom Riddle, but all of his followers to my door. Your country is embroiled in back-door politics and shady dealings, and I do like to see a bit of peace after war. I like to think of it as a vacation of sorts."

"Thanks for the advice, I'll be sure to keep it in mind," I reply, climbing out of bed and stretching laboriously, working out the kinks and knots from my sleep. "Thank you again for letting me speak with Ron one last time… I never would have expected that, so thank you."

"All part of my job, no need to thank me Miss Potter. I'll be seeing you around, I have a few souls to pick up."

Just as he's about to disappear I stop. "Hey, Death?"

"Yes, Miss Potter?"

"I remember you mentioning Fate one of the first times we talked. I'm assuming that Fate is another God, just like yourself?"

He nods lazily. "Yes, I would say she's a good friend of mine," he admits, and I have to prevent my eyebrows from reaching to my hairline in shock. "Oh, don't be so surprised. I'm an immortal being of horribly immense power. Even I could make a friend after a few millennia. Honestly, you should meet my wife. I'm still surprise that she spends time with me."

"W- wife? You have a wife?" I ask, completely incredulous.

Death rolls his eyes once more, looking slightly offended. "Yes, her name is Life, I think you've heard of her," he jibes. "Now, is there anything important that you want to ask me, or may I leave?"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to offend. It just surprised me that Death of all the Gods had a wife. Marrying Life seems nice and poetic though."

"Thank you, we think that as well. She'll occasionally accompany me when I'm claiming a lost soul or two and it's hilarious when they realize who she is." He laughs at some ancient memory, wiping an unseen tear from his eye. "Anyways, I've got a few reapings to attend to. Do try not to get into too much trouble, yes?"

With a snap, Death disappears, and I smile faintly as time returns to its normal pace and I go about my morning routine. Who'd have thought that Death was nice. Even with Ron looking so horribly grotesque, that was still a friendly gesture. I shake my head in amusement. Death, certified big softy.

I trudge down the stairs, greeting Hermione merrily as we head to breakfast.

"How did last night go?" she asks, strolling over and taking her place beside me as we walk, a small frown on her face giving away her worried state.

"Last night was fantastic," I reply, raising my arms above my head and cracking the joints of my wrists noisily. "The old man isn't a problem anymore."

"Really!?" she gasps, faltering slightly as she understands what that means. "Did you… you know?"

"Brought back and very much bound," I breathe, hand cupped to my mouth secretively. "I've got nothing to worry about on that end."

Hermione squeals and pulls me into a hug, blushing furiously as she backs off. "Is it… is it bad of me to be happy you did what you did? For me to be happy that you're safe even though you- well, killed him," she whispers, looking around to make sure no person or portrait is listening in. I throw up a slew of silencing charms, from muffliato to a localized silencio before continuing.

"It is, and it isn't," I say, clicking my tongue thoughtfully. "What I did shouldn't have been necessary, and it pisses me off that it happened. People shouldn't have to die, especially not those who could have been allies. I'm confident that Dumbledore was either senile or deluded, incapable of trusting other people who don't share his world-view," I reason, thinking it over myself for the umpteenth time. "I don't enjoy killing, not one bit, but in war its necessary."

I stop, once again realizing I'm not talking to a Hermione that's my age, one that's gone through hell and high water to save my life or be saved in return. I curse quietly under my breath, huffing lightly as I turn to Hermione. "I'm sorry, I really shouldn't be talking about this so blatantly with you," I apologize, hushing Hermione when she opens her mouth to complain. "No, no. You're fourteen Hermione, and you haven't gone through the same things that I have. Hell, even the other you shouldn't have even been involved in half the shit we got up to. I was by all accounts raised to be a soldier, the first time I killed a man was when I was eleven. The first," I state, noting the discomfort in her eyes. "I haven't ever had a childhood, and I won't… but you? You still have your innocence, and I'm not going to let you squander it. I'm happy you helped me, truly, I am. You really pulled my arse out of the fire, but you can't be involved in this sort of stuff."

Hermione wrinkles her nose, a frustrated sneer on her face. "I get it, I guess… I just wish I could help you somehow," she quietly admits. "The other me… your me, she just sounds so incredible, you know? Like a shield-maiden from an old story. It's all so terribly romantic… I want to be like her. I want to be strong like her."

"You are strong," I chime in, placing my hand on her shoulder comfortingly. "And don't you dare say 'your me,' because you are my Hermione. The one that I knew in the past? She doesn't exist anymore. Everyone I ever knew then… they're gone. You, you," I assert, pointing at Hermione. "You are far more clever, stronger, happier than the Hermione I once knew. Trust me, she would've fought tooth and nail to have the terribly mundane and uneventful life that you do, just as I would."

She smiles crookedly back at me, nodding her head as we stroll towards the Great Hall. I grab a seat next to Ginny, patting her on the arm as I pile waffles onto my plate. I glance towards the head table, grinning maliciously as I lay eyes on Dumbledore, who's going through the motions as usual except for the missing glint in his eyes. Snape raises his glass as we make eye contact, a nearly unnoticeable smile gracing his normally sallow features. I incline my head, raising a finger ever so slightly in reply.

"Hey, Padma, Lisa? I'd like to apologize," I say, turning towards the two girls. "I've been… I've been a right bitch lately. I had some problems I had to work through on my end, but that's no excuse for the way I've treated you two. Same goes to you Luna," I add, catching the sprightly blondes eye. "I shouldn't have ignored any of you, and I hope you can forgive me."

Padma raises her nose, mocking disdain practically emanating from her. "I suppose we can accept that apology, do you not agree my Dear Lisa," she considers, turning towards the brunette on her right.

"I suppose we may, my Dear Padma," she intones, the same haughty air about her. "Apology accepted, Helene." She smirks, the act crumbling as she struggles to hold back her laughter.

"Thank you for apologizing Helene, not many people would," Luna interjects airily as she makes a smiley face out of her bacon and eggs.

"No, thank you," I say to the girls. "I'll make sure it never happens again. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go catch up with my sisters," I continue, cheering internally at that little statement as I scarf down one of my waffles and stride over to the Slytherin table, Astoria shuffling over and opening a seat next to me. I smile at her in thanks and sit down. "Hey Daphne, Astoria, Tracey," I say, looking towards the three of them.

Daphne and Astoria smile at me, while Tracey wrinkles her nose in distaste.

"Where've you been for the last week?" Daphne quizzes, eyebrow raised as she immediately cuts to the chase. "Haven't seen hide nor hair of you anywhere except for classes. Something happen?"

I sigh quietly, giving a slight shrug. "Just had to deal with some personal problems, I'm sorry I was ignoring everyone. How's your first year here going Astoria?"

"It's fantastic!" she exclaims excitedly, hands raised to the sky and nearly knocking over her plate. "I really like astronomy and potions, and we were finally allowed to learn the tickling charm last week!" she adds with a feral gleam in her eyes.

"Hey, no pranking… at least not me or any of the other girls. We're off limits," I warn her, finger raised challengingly.

"Oh, don't worry. I know I wouldn't be able to get a spell off on you, but if Dennis Creevey doesn't stop bothering me in defence…"

"Creevey is a perfectly acceptable target."

"Awesome!"

"Do you really have to encourage her?" Daphne says, rolling her eyes.

"Chin up Daph, Helene made sure we're off limits," Tracey sarcastically clarifies, startling me, and evidently startling herself, as she immediately frowns and goes back to poking away at her meal.

I have to hold back a smile at Tracey's momentarily friendly treatment of me, glad to see a happy side to her for once. I grab a slice of bacon off of Astoria's plate, laughing loudly at her frustrated cry as I toss it into my mouth. Looks like its smooth sailing from here on out.

-::-

Winter break catches up to me quickly, a slew of exams that I completed a long time ago to mark the passing of time. I can breathe easy this Christmas, with no need to worry about homicidal old men or other unseemly things breaking the short peace that I'm going to enjoy every minute of. The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore launched a few weeks ago to great success, critics lauding Rita's mud racking masterpiece for its incredible depth of research and the sheer 'bravery' it took her to publish such a divisive thing. Of course, there are those who argue loudly in Dumbledore's favour, masses of fans and worshippers screaming their disdain for the biography. Hell, there were even a couple of protests out in front of Flourish & Blotts. I heard Molly Weasley was seen front and centre at the picket line, her face as red as her hair as she furiously cried out at the 'horrible lies.'

Really, I like Molly, but she hasn't got the best head on her shoulders. There's a reason she doesn't have a job, and its mostly due to a severe lack of qualifications.

God, I can still remember the faces the girls made when they were reading over my advance copy of the book, lucky enough to have received one a day thanks to Octavius. I'd never before seen such a perfect blind of disgust and excitement represented by facial expression alone, nor the conversation that came along with it.

"Oh my God… Dumbledore dated Grindelwald?" Padma breathed, absolutely horrified.

"Grindelwald?" Hermione asks. "Wasn't that the man who started the Global Wizarding War?"

"And the Nazis," Lisa adds, a tremendous frown on her face. "He put Hitler into power and started World War Two."

Hermione covers her mouth with one hand, gasping loudly. "Dumbledore… Dumbledore dated him?"

"Lovers in fact," I add. "If they didn't have that little spat that ended up killing Dumbledore's sister they probably would have ended up married."

"Married?" Padma interjects. "Two wizards can't get married."

Both Hermione and I turn to her, asking in unison, "What?"

She turns sheepishly to me, expecting me to go ahead and speak. "No, you'll probably phrase it better than I could, you ask her," I say.

Nodding, she turns back to Padma. "I thought that wizarding law was more acceptable towards same-sex couples."

"That's true, but not in Britain," she says, shaking her head sadly. "We're one of the only countries in Europe that still boasts about pureblood, so witches or wizards who play chaser for the same team? They're considered blood traitors for not carrying on the family lines."

"That's awful," Hermione croaks, a horrified expression on her face.

I realize that she's getting ahead of herself, and unless she wants to come out to Lisa and Padma right this second, I'm going to have to change the subject.

"So… what else is Britain behind on, apart from, well- everything," I ask, Padma tapping her chin in thought as Hermione casts a thankful glance in my direction.

"Education is fine here, although there's been no magical research for the last… I don't know, three decades or so? I don't know how long it's actually been, but it's been a while."

"Why is that?" Hermione asks.

"Too dangerous," she shrugs. "At least, that's what the law says. I wanted to be a spell-crafter when I grow up, but I changed my mind when I realized that there's no spell-crafters in Britain. I'd like to not have to move out of country for work."

"That's fair… so, what other horrifying things has Dumbledore done?"

"Hey Sirius," I grin, pulling the raggedy man into a crushing hug as I hop through the floo to Greengrass Manor. "Missed you."

"I missed you too," he says, pulling back and smiling at me as he holds me at arms length. "You have no idea how happy I am to see you in one piece."

"What, you think that old man could have gotten the best of me?" I scoff jokingly, one eyebrow raised dangerously. "Oh, ye of little faith."

"Conceited much?"

"You of all people is going to ask me that?"

"Hey! I'm not conceited, I just know how to appreciate myself," Sirius argues, arms crossed, and his nose held high in the air in a passible impression of Narcissa Malfoy. I guess it helps the impression if they're related.

"Hey, lets catch up with Octavius and figure out where thing are going," I say, leading Sirius to the sitting room where Octavius is waiting while Terra fusses over Daphne and Astoria. "Hey Octavius!" I shout, running up and hugging the man.

"I just brought you home not fifteen minutes ago, it's like you haven't seen me for a year," he chuckles, sitting back down and tucking away a few errant pieces of parchment. "So, I'm assuming things went well with the old man?"

"Everything is under control," I reply, stressing the word. Octavius nods, a slight bit of discomfort in his gesture. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes… everything is fine," he says unconvincingly, sighing quietly as I peer curiously at him, not letting up. "I just- I find your powers to be quite uncomfortable, no offense intended."

I nod in understanding, pursing my lips. "I know, I know… trust me, I wasn't the biggest fan of them either. Now I'm just sort of indifferent to it," I confess, wondering where the conversation is going. "And I thought we had this discussion already? You know I'm not going to go all Dark Lady on you, right? This is sort of the best option I have for defeating Voldemort."

"I understand, but I still don't feel too good about it. When you hear about something being evil, wrong, and utterly terrifying your whole life it tends to stick. Like I said before, I'll never stop loving you, but that doesn't mean that I'm not allowed to dislike some of the things you do."

"That's… understandable. And, you're not wrong on it being utterly terrifying," I admit sheepishly. "Seriously, some of those spells… you know, how about we just not get into that," I deflect, Octavius immediately agreeing to stop the conversation from becoming too in depth. I really do understand why he's uncomfortable about the whole Necromancer deal. Even I am, and I'm the one who has to cast the bloody spells.

"That sounds fine to me. Now, we need to figure out what our 'plan of attack' is, as it were," he begins, pulling out a small folder and opening it up, placing the sheets on the table and spreading them out evenly. "I think it's time to start to really enter the political field, repealing laws that the ex-Death Eaters have been passing since the early 80's, conniving bastards that they are."

"Well, there's not much I can do on that end, considering my lack of knowledge when it comes to politics," I demur, looking to Sirius pointedly. He's the one with the true political brain in this family due to how he was raised, not to mention Octavius' extensive experience with his seat at the Wizengamot. "Octavius already holds my proxy for the Potter seat in addition to his own, but you two should make an announcement of a formal alliance at the next Wizengamot meeting. The Black seat has always been an important vote from what I've heard," I continue, nodding at Octavius to thank him for the wizarding legislature books he lent me.

"The Potter and Black seats have historically been diametrically opposed," Sirius says, brow furrowed in thought as he ponders over the decision. He taps his fingers against his knee, hammering out a silent rhythm. "It would be a grand gesture for the two to stand united, and it would probably form one of the first true neutral voting blocs in… well, a long time."

"Yes, and we can begin working towards repealing the frankly ridiculous laws targeting those labelled creatures and such, while pushing for equal rights for muggleborn as well as halfblood magicals," Octavius adds, scribbling something down. "How long do you suppose we should wait before making big moves towards striking down the old Death Eaters?"

Sirius scratches his chin, smiling sheepishly at me as he realizes I'm in over my head. I shrug, understanding that I'm more of a hands-on kind of person, and by hands-on, I mean violent. What can I say? I'm good at what I do. I fight thing, I win through sheer luck or by pulling the perfect spell out of my ass, thing is no longer a problem. It's worked for the last seven years, why change my methods now?

"I'd say we should start making waves come summer, maybe a little later. Didn't you say that Death Eaters are going to attack the Quidditch World Cup finals in late August, Helene?"

"Yeah, a dozen or so go out for some drunken muggle-baiting, as well as a bit of friendly arson," I confirm, grimacing at the memory. I'll be ready to fight them off and hopefully put down a few of the bastards. Fingers crossed I run into my old friend Lucius. "I think directly after that would be a good time to stop pulling punches and reveal our hand. Fudge is probably going to throw a fit about it, but he can't do much when we have controlling shares in the Prophet. The only reason he stuck around in my last life was because he was slandering me constantly and pulling attention away from himself."

"I'd like to see him try," Sirius scoffs noisily, his nose flaring. "If the fool tries anything we'll drag him through the dirt. Maybe we should get Rita working on another book? Corruption and Hedonism, the Not So Sweet Life of Cornelius Fudge?"

"An excellent suggestion my friend," Octavius notes, jotting that down with a wide grin as the plan begins to form, no longer a ramshackle series of goals. "I'm sure Rita would be ecstatic to drag another public figure down and allow the public to beat them senseless. I do hope that happens in a very literal manner."

"Brilliant," I say, rubbing my hands together gleefully like a tiny mad scientist. "Do you think we could start dragging Delores Umbridge through the muck at the same time? The lady is a functioning sociopath and I'd like to make sure she doesn't end up 'teaching' at Hogwarts come fifth-year. I like having scar-free hands, and I'd prefer not to have to kill another defence teacher."

"I'll add that to the list. Now, I'm feeling quite peckish, and I assume you two are" Octavius interjects, glancing at his watch. "It looks like its getting close to supper time, so let's wrap this up and get a bite to eat, what do you say?"

"Agreed," me and Sirius chime in unison, stomachs already growling in anticipation.

"If the elves cooked up that roast beef again I'm going to be mighty pleased," Sirius says dreamily, visions of mash and gravy dancing in his head.

"I know. It's even better than the Hogwarts roast."

"I'll let them know you said that, I'm sure they'd be ecstatic to earn such praise," Octavius says as we stroll towards the dining room to enjoy our first family dinner in three months. I don't think I'm ever going to get tired of saying that. Family. It just has a great ring to it, you know?

A bit of a boring chapter, but we're working towards the grand scheme of things now.

ClearSilver: Huh. I can't believe I forgot that. I doubt Dumbledore would be the type to off himself, and I know my Dumbledore won't do that, so there's no need to worry about it.

Rekmar: It's okay, I managed to decipher your comment. I get the occasional flame or hate-review, but they're always done by Guest accounts, so I don't have to worry about seeing it for more than the twenty seconds that it takes to read the tripe. Glad you enjoyed the fight scene and the story so far, apologies for not cleaving Lockhart in twain in a more gruesome way. I didn't want to focus on that particular part of the story in too much detail, considering the reasons behind it.

DuckedHard: Plenty of blood magic and Necromancy to come! Fourth year is going to be when the story really kicks off in terms of combat and funky, mysterious magics.
I didn't enjoy writing that bit, but yes, it did work as a catalyst. Things are going to start getting a bit wild later on, particularly with Helene trying to balance in her mind how she is around friends and family, versus how ruthless she can be (and has to be) in a fight.

BrilliantLady: Shit. I goofed.

Edited, 13/06/18.